Nutella, skim milk,
Sweet potatoes, whole wheat bread,
Cucumbers, mustard
Haiku
Ain’t ‘nough room in this state for the both of us
Return to Texas
Re-remember my birthplace.
Here I come, lame duck.
I heard thrilling news at work today. I’m going to San Antonio for a conference in November! It will be just a few weeks after a new president is elected, and George W. Bush, who has cast a bit of a pallor over one of my favorite autobiographical facts for the last seven and a half years, will by then just be waiting out the last of his last term.
I’ve always been proud that I was born in Texas. Not many kids in Connecticut come from too far west of the Ohio River or south of the Mason-Dixon line. Having San Antonio on my birth certificate, learning to crawl while my parents kept their eyes open for scorpions and roly-poly bugs (delicious!), playing in patches of bluebells, riding around the Alamo in a stroller, teething on tortillas—these things made my infancy and toddlerhood special. I love that I was once a yellow rose.
If I could change one thing about myself, it would be wanting to change anything at all
Just for today, I’ll
Be left-handed; tomorrow
I’ll be me again.
Two people and a video camera are watching me type right now
I’m WordPress testing.
I feel more important than
I probably should.
In the future, let’s avoid analogies that link physiology and food
My PT told me
The spine is like a stack of
Jelly donuts. Squish.