Iris is dead. I cannot talk about it. Here’s the last picture I ever took of her, on December 20. Oh, Iris.
Iris is dead. I cannot talk about it. Here’s the last picture I ever took of her, on December 20. Oh, Iris.
Before I begin delighting you all with pet speak, lemme tell you what just happened. These past two days, I’ve been tryina keep up with reading blog comments, but it’s not easy. I tried looking at them here, not in email, and one thing that’s irking me is the comments are in order from oldest …
Some nights, Edsel is just too much. With the flumping dramatically off the bed whenever I move a corpuscle. Then floomping back on a minute later. With the pressing his head on my neck as hard as he can, for pets. At 4 a.m. So some nights I kick him out. Last night was one …
When we last left each other, flush from our reunion, I told you that Steely Dan was injured and I’d taken him to the vet. It turns out, it wasn’t a cat fight. It was a rock lobster. No. It was a fence or maybe a tree. They think he got caught in a fence. …
Years ago, I was on the phone with my oldest friend, Pal From MA. She was on her porch, and who knows what ridik topic we were on, but it compelled her to yell, “HELLO, CLITORIS!” at one point. And when she did that? A woman walking across the street waved. This obsessed me. I …
Eds won’t stop acting the fool this morning. “Come sit and chew Blu and be a nice dog,” I just commanded him. Really, I should put off covering that chair for longer. It’s not disgusting enough. I guess if I recover that chair, putting it by the back door again is out, right? I need, …
Yesterday was a day of intense highs and lows. Okay, yesterday I had a high and a low. But everything with me is intense. I’ve already done my stupid taxes with TurboTax, and I owe every year because freelance. What I parTICularly love is paying taxes and having to pay TurboTax on top of that. …
“I have an all-day meeting and I’m getting out of work early,” said Ned, and “early” for Ned means “a normal time to leave work” in my world. Remind me to never be the president of anything. Except this nonblog. “Would you like to have dinner? I’ll be early, so you can eat like the …
“Beep!” “Beep!” 12:50 a.m. it was, and some DAMN beep from some DAMN alarm was going off last night. It’d almost be better to die of the carbon monoxide or the intruder than keep getting awakened with these damn beeps. They always have to be “damn” beeps. I threw the covers off and got up …
Rabbit, rabbit. Why do people say that at the beginning of the month? Sarah Jessica Parker always does (she’s my Instagram friend), and because she does it, I think it’s cute, but all my life I have no idea why people say it. But isn’t this literally a rabbit, rabbit month? Isn’t Easter this month? …
