Discomboobulated 

Bras were not on the top of my list of things I needed to free myself from, but they were definitely on probation.

The Black Suitcase

I am so glad that the black suitcase came into my life and set me on this path toward the past, because I am the Queen of Repression and Denial.

Need Gone

Having a baby for the purpose of selling ones own breast milk on Facebook seems unnecessarily complicated when you can easily sell your used underwear to men.

The Ruby Slippers

Each night on the Tucson BLM, we would have a big campfire with live music and welcome anyone who stopped by. Our only requirement was that guests not be Trump Humpers or nationalist whack jobs. The BLM is lousy with single, angry, white men living in squalid cargo vans. If and when someone proved to be a hater, we would tell him (it was always a him) to leave our campfire and then hope he didn’t come back and shoot us.

My Secret Weapon

I  was introduced to Christy the year that I abruptly went from sous chef to head chef in the dysfunctional yet totally lovable cafe where I had been happily learning everything I could while avoiding all the stress and responsibilities of the head chef. My promotion came about after the head chef, Sarah, cut off …

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The Blessed Season of Chemical Pie

When we first met, I never made pie baking a prerequisite to being my friend. I accept you just as you are, so please, never feel that you must bring me a chemical pie from Stop & Shop or the farm stand.

Viva Willow Dell

The deck, which was the heart and soul of the place, was built from wood that seemed to have been chosen especially for the size and quantity of the splinters that it could produce in a day.

Conquering The Final Frontier

As hilarious as the spectacle of me frantically excavating my boots from under the bed in a peristaltic frenzy was, the time had come to stop the madness.

Chiefly Paranoid, The Olde Creeper and The Petro-Erectors

I watched our septuagenarian companion make a fascinating transformation from a somewhat insufferable, falsely modest, Birkenstock-shod spiritualist, into a slobbering bird-dog.

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