Thursday, September 25, 2025

Dogs

I was just watching Yosh and thinking how we need to let dogs settle into their own quirks and let themselves be known to us. He is his own dude for sure. He can get excitable, but he can also be super chill. We've had him for two years now on Sept. 30, and still I'm learning more about him every day, trying not to conflate him with his fellow four-footers who came before. Heart you, kid.



Anger

Baz told us he'd gotten a "wood thing" stuck in his ear. 

After he left the room, I pounded the couch. "What the fuck? He barely tells me anything, now this?"

"He's 10," Adam said. "It's what they do."

Tuesday, September 23, 2025

Times Square, December 2024

 


Two years

 


At 5 a.m. on Sept. 23, 2023, my Maizie awoke. Something wasn't right. We knew that was going to be the day.

Four hours later, she died in Adam's arms.

This was my soul doggie. There is no second-guessing that. That doesn't mean I don't love my other dogs just as much. 

It just means that Maizie, my Little Miss, my Little Girl, got me in an entirely different way.

Sunday, September 21, 2025

Camp Loma Mar, 2024

 


Everything about this picture grabs me: the way he's smiling straight into the camera, the way he's done his whole life; the beautiful eyes, the dirty little knee. There are not words to tell you how much I love being his mother, how much I appreciate and value it to the damn moon and right back again. 

Monday, September 15, 2025

Love him so much


 

Solano Stroll

 











I want to knit you a sweater
I want to write you a love letter
I want to make you feel free
I want to make you feel free

Barenaked Ladies, "One Week"

I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve
I have a history of taking off my shirt

Saturday, September 13, 2025

Wegovy Week Whatever

Down 10 pounds, able to pass up the Pumpkin Joe-Joes at TJs. I'm liking this. 

Thinking about my mom

By the time I had Baz, she was too far into dementia to show much interest. But I swear to fucking God, there are times I go to pick up my phone to get advice from her. She's not taking calls, unfortunately. 

Thursday, September 11, 2025

From Ahoj once again

I have, it seems, roughly the sense of a rutabaga when it comes to romantic connection.

Tuesday, September 9, 2025

Still more Ahoj

We get on the train. Ukončete, prosím, výstup a nástup, dveře se zavírají! Please finish getting on and off, the doors are closing. We are spinning in a circle of our own making. We are two people who don’t particularly like one another – that much is becoming clear – but still. There is that draw.
 
Is that enough?

Friday, September 5, 2025

More Ahoj

My father is talking about something. I’m not really listening. It’s the same old song of my childhood, the typical momentum of his conversation for as long as I’ve known him.

He’s talking about himself. If that meant he was opening to me, revealing something meaningful, that would be different. But he’s talking about the same shit he always discusses, stuff that feels like it doesn’t matter in the long run, the kind of conversation you might find at some incredibly dull happy hour. It’s not so much what he’s saying as it is the way he says it; fascinated and trying to telegraph it, as if I’m expected to be as taken with his words as he is.
 
I want my father to ask about my experience in Pardubice, to question what I’m doing there, maybe even to challenge it just a little bit. I could handle that. What I can’t handle is his arrogant insistence on speaking only, only about himself.
 
Children rely on their parents to care, to show interest.
 
At heart we are all children.

Thursday, September 4, 2025

Tori Amos, "Silent All These Years"

Excuse me, but can I be you for a while?My dog won't bite if you sit real stillI got the antichrist in the kitchen yelling at me againYeah, I can hear thatBeen saved again by the garbage truckGot something to say, you know, but nothing comesYes, I know what you think of me, you never should'veYeah, I can hear that
But what if I'm a mermaidIn these jeans of hisWith her name still on itHey, but I don't care'Cause sometimes, I said sometimesI hear my voice and it's been hereSilent all these years
So you found a girl who thinks really deep thoughtsWhat's so amazing about really deep thoughts?Boy, you best pray that I bleed real soonHow's that thought for you?My scream got lost in a paper cupYou think there's a heaven where some screams have gone?I got 25 bucks and a cracker, do you think it's enoughTo get us there?
'Cause what if I'm a mermaidIn these jeans of hisWith her name still on itHey, but I don't care'Cause sometimes, I said sometimesI hear my voice and it's been hereSilent all these
Years go byWill I still, will I still be here waiting to understand?Years go byIf I'm stripped, if I'm stripped of my beautyAnd the clouds raining in my headYears go byWill I choke 'til finally there's nothing left?One more casualty, you know we're too easy, easy, easy
Well, I love the way we communicateYour eyes focus on my funny lip shapeLet's hear what you think of me nowBut baby, don't look up, the sky is fallingYour mother shows up in a nasty dressIt's your turn now to stand where I standEverybody looking at you, here, take hold of my handYeah, I can hear them
But what if I'm a mermaidIn these jeans of yoursWith her name still on itHey, but I don't care'Cause sometimes, I said sometimesI hear my voice, I hear my voiceI hear my voice and it's been hereSilent all these years
I've been hereSilent all these yearsSilent all theseSilent all these years

Joni Mitchell, "California"

Sitting in a park in Paris France

Reading the news and it sure looks bad

They won't give peace a chance
That was just a dream some of us had
Still a lot of lands to see
But I wouldn't want to stay here
It's too old and cold and settled in its ways here
Oh but California

California I'm coming home
I'm going to see the folks I dig
I'll even kiss a Sunset pig
California I'm coming home

I met a redneck on a Grecian isle
Who did the goat dance very well
He gave me back my smile
But he kept my camera to sell
Oh the rogue the red red rogue
He cooked good omelettes and stews
And I might have stayed on with him there
But my heart cried out for you California

Oh California I'm coming home
Oh make me feel good rock 'n' roll band
I'm your biggest fan
California I'm coming home

Oh it gets so lonely
When you're walking
And the streets are full of strangers
All the news of home you read
Just gives you the blues
Just gives you the blues
So I bought me a ticket
I caught a plane to Spain
Went to a party down a red dirt road
There were lots of pretty people there
Reading Rolling Stone reading Vogue
They said "How long can you hang around?"
I said a week maybe two
Just until my skin turns brown
Then I'm going home to California

California I'm coming home
Oh will you take me as I am
Strung out on another man
California I'm coming home

Oh it gets so lonely
When you're walking
And the streets are full of strangers
All the news of home you read
More about the war
And the bloody changes
Oh will you take me as I am?
Will you take me as I am?
Will you?

Tuesday, September 2, 2025

Two years ago

I saw my mother alive for the last time.

In that moment my world cleaved into two: before and after. Those who were with me in both are the ones who matter most.

From Ahoj

Totalitarian rule feels so quaint, so essentially European. It’s part of the history books, not something that’s real. Or at least, not real for me as an American. It belongs here, with the castles and the cobblestones that cause my backpack’s wheels to clack. Here, where I have no ties and no commitments, where I can flee at a moment’s notice if need be.