me, today

I exist, though not so much in the ether as in meat space. Working with students and seeing their faces (are they getting the jokes? are they engaged? do they understand?…) is great. Then I go home and hole up and don’t talk to anyone. The computer is shut down at the end of day not to be looked at until the next morning. Keeps me sane. Alone is good.

four letter words

The past is fluid. You think you have a handle on what was, but with some crucial bit of information you realize you had it all wrong. Who am I to you? Or you to me? What is the significance of a shared bite or a small gift? For me it was something, for ¬†you…just friends. “Just”. A four letter word like “shit” and “fuck” and “loss”. and “love” Which …

11/15/2016

Happy hour. Dollar oysters. I don’t need no stinkin’ date. The happy hour cocktail is pear bourbon sour. Don’t like bourbon. I do like this.   I write on paper, in a leather bound journal of handmade paper. It has a lock.   Funny. This is old school. Normally, I’d take a picture. Just ink and paper. Here is an oyster. I’ve been sad. But one of the bartender shuckers …

11/10/2016

Some of you are gracious. I am not. Yesterday, I was sad; today, I am mad. Today, I am not magnanimous. You voted for Trump? Not okay. I’m supposed to empathize with your disenfranchisement? I’m supposed to understand your anger? You didn’t vote because both were bad? Were you in a swing state? But you’re not a racist. (The kkk is holding a victory parade) Oh. And you’re not a …

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