Lady Lazarus Rising

“I have done it again./One year in every ten/I manage it——“ These are the opening lines of Sylvia Plath’s poem, “Lady Lazarus.” One of the most famous parts of this poem—a part Bill can actually quote—is, “Dying/Is an art, like everything else./I do it exceptionally well./I do it so it feels like hell./I do it... Continue Reading →

Emotional Surfing

I have never surfed in my life. I don’t really like the water and I am not a strong swimmer. Yet here I am, straddling a chunk of fiberglass, holding on with every bit of strength I have as an invisible tow line carries me farther and farther out into the chaotic, endlessly heaving waves.... Continue Reading →

Happy People

I’m struggling with something today, so hold on. This could be a rambling mess of a post. I am having difficulty understanding something that is most likely obvious to most other humans. Ready? I don’t get happiness. I simply do not understand it. I can read a dictionary definition and know that it means “a... Continue Reading →


Since embarking upon this, my ninth journey into the land of Weight Watchers (and no, I am not exaggerating, although this is only my second uber-serious trip), I have lost a good amount of weight. Thirty pounds. This would make most people ecstatic. But I’m an over-achiever. I want to lose more quickly. I want... Continue Reading →

The Final Google Search

Do you ever Google yourself? If not, I congratulate you on having no egotistic curiosity. But if you do, welcome. I believe you are in good company. I Google myself on a regular basis and no, I don’t think I have a problem with severe narcissism. I do it to see if the blog you... Continue Reading →

Visiting Sylvia

Because my husband Bill is a good sport and a willing participant in my madness, we drove to Washington, DC, last weekend just because I wanted to see an exhibit about Sylvia Plath. I’ve been talking about seeing this exhibit ever since I found out about it last fall. So we drive all the way... Continue Reading →

Motherless Day

It's almost Mother's Day once again. My mom has been dead for fifty-seven weeks. This is a fact. As for the feelings, I am still inexplicably devoid of them, at least externally. I know they are there, simmering beneath the surface, but I continue to find it difficult to access them. My grief is like... Continue Reading →


When I was about 13 years old, my dad taught me how to shoot a gun. He was an avid hunter and gun collector who even did his own reloading. It was what he poured his spare time into and where he found joy. My brother didn’t seem to have much an interest in guns,... Continue Reading →


Two thirds of my job is being my school’s testing coordinator. Because I work in a special education school, this position means that for two months of the year (after seven months of mind-numbing planning, mind you), I sit in the basement of our school and watch students as they are tested. This sounds like... Continue Reading →

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