At Least They're Committed

There was some confusion in line at the Walgreen’s, what with the lady in front of me switching to a newly opened register but dropping a magazine and ducking to retrieve it and the old bat (there, I used it again) at my back snapping, “Are you going to go?” while I waited for the… Read more

The boys and I were at Outback celebrating Demon Spawn’s new job with the steak and crab special, of which I got none of the crab because Edison’s Black Dahlia wanted extra and his father wasn’t going to get the crab deal and we asked him to because then he could give his to EBD… Read more

Demon Spawn got a job that is a considerable step up from his miserable existence at Safeway; the check from the Rocky pension to roll over into my IRA arrived and is deposited; Edison’s Black Dahlia started school and is more psyched than he thought he’d be about his classes and teachers; D got a… Read more

For the second time in four years, I’m looking at my children and saying, “Look boys! Your mom is walking!” And they applaud my efforts as if I were a 1-year-old. I can walk again. It’s not like I hadn’t been walking, as if I were wheelchair-bound or any such thing. But for the past… Read more

Let’s do this. Too tired. You need to . . . you’re more fatigued than tired and this is part of the reason you’re fatigued. I can’t, and besides I walked all day, including up and down stairs several times. My hip did great, but now I’m exhausted. You have to do this. You can’t… Read more

Bios are so dreary. “I worked here and there, clawed my way up from the tar pit to become this amazing specimen of humanity.” Add to that the exaggeration and embellishment factor and you’ve got yourself historical fiction. If I were to write my bio, honestly, it would read something like this: Tripping Raul sometimes… Read more