Wisdom from Trader Joe's

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Existential Housing Crisis

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A friend of mine recently posted on Facebook that she had, " determined there is no discernible difference between being a first-time home buyer and having an existential crisis." I think she just about hit the nail on the head with that one. I wish her luck in her quest, but can offer no satisfactory response to her 21st century housing crisis. And yet, I muse on. There is no practical way that I am ready to buy a house. I can barely keep the living conditions in my apartment under control. What with work and children and laundry and four trips to urgent care in the month of May alone, I am already well beyond my zone of proximal development. Yet I dream of owning my own home. When houses in my neighborhood go up for sale, I drive past them slowly, longingly, dreaming of the lives of the people who live there and imagining myself opening the front door to visitors, walking my older son to school, and choosing my own native-inspired, drought-resistant landscaping. Th...
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Building Community with a Non-binding Vote

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As my little blog has now earned its first pennies, I thought it time to spend more than 3,000% of my earnings on business cards while simultaneously keeping my day job. However, here is where you, dear reader, can contribute and show your love for my continued reflections and rantings. Here, you can take a moment of your precious life to vote on which style of card from the "Elegent" list on Vistaprint best embodies the style, mood, and tone of my illustrious blog.  Yes, I know what you're thinking. How could one tiny rectangle of heavyweight cardstock possibly do justice to all that my blog contains? Well, obviously, or at least hopefully, it can't, but at least you can have some input as to which example does the least crappy job. I will take all votes into consideration, then do whatever I want to do anyway. Artists and writers are fickle and capricious like that. And with all seriousness, thank you for reading my blog. It brings me great joy to know that...
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In the Space Between

I was going to tell you to stay Not sure if I’ve told you before Told you so you’d really hear me Told you so that you’d understand Understand that I am being torn apart By fear By scorn By fractured expectations That we would grow old together Watch our parents die And our children grow Holding each other up along the way But now you’ve torn away my handrails Telling me that what we have is not enough Or too much And in all the wrong places But I couldn’t fit it all In the space between You putting on your shoes And you walking out the door
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