Pa and his Snake Stick “How d’ya feel?” “Seventy-One.” He’s spent the last two days on top of the mountain. Chopping wood. Because the ten tonnes of coal he’s hauled in for the winter isn’t burning like it should. “Is it in your chest?” “Nah. I’m ok. I don’t feel old at all. I just
Browsing category blogging
James Blunt makes us feel good about being depressed. (Not that I’m depressed, but his music almost makes me wish I were.) I realised this on my way home today. Listening to Radio1. People love him because they feel like he gives meaning to their misery. Adds a certain kind of celluloid romance to it
Ever had one of those days where you just want to run and run until your lungs give out? Because it’s the only thing that will do? I feel like that today. Full of pent up anxiety. I feel the need. The need for speed. I hate that movie. I dare say running would do
In the UK I go to my GP just by calling up in the morning and attending the office sometime later in the day. His time and advice are free. If he writes me a prescription I get it filled for something like 15 dollars. No matter what it is. I’m usually one of the
The new year rings in the restart to my five-days-on / two-days-off gym routine. It’s painful but mandatory if I want to get any cardiovascular activity at all and not turn in to a sausage. They say it takes three weeks to form a habit, and that’s about how long it will hurt. After that
I hated Faulkner in school. Found his stream of consciousness irritating. Ended up buying “As I Lay Dying” because it was 99p in a bargain bin a few years ago – read it again over the course of the week in St Anne’s Square because I couldn’t be bothered socialising with my coworkers over the
I’ve been tumbling. If you know who Julia Allison is, you may know what I’m talking about. I’ve also been reading from “An American Album: 150 Years of Harpers Magazine” and drinking wine. On Monday night I ate three deep fried sour kraut balls. I thought that deserved a mention because, well…it’s deep fried sour
Yesterday Mallorie and I spent 8 hours Christmas shopping. Because I always wait until the last minute and she needed to tie up a few loose ends. We also spent three hours reading theology books in Borders, trying out every lip gloss known to Nars in Sephora and lunching down on pecan encrusted trout and
Chris and I after a few rounds of “Skip to My Lou”. Complete with the singing and the snorting (which invariably accompanies any thing we sing) and the skipping past people who clearly think we’re just a little bit ‘SPECIAL’. But never mind. The way I see it, if you can’t sing cow’s in the
This is the first time in ten years I’ve spent a week away from the internet. Frightening, really. Just checking my email and realising I may have left the last post open to confusion. I often refer to my grandfather as “Pa” – And he’s fine. That’s what he’ll tell you, anyway. But he said
I never thought it would bother me so much. But that’s the thing. I didn’t think. You don’t. About this stuff. Until it happens. Then you know. After Pa told me I put away the phone. Pulled over on the side of the road. And threw up. ——— The other day I was listening to
