March 15th, 2010.
My fingers are freezing. We haven’t seen the sun in what seems like weeks and my body’sgot the lethargy of slow, sluggish, glutinous, cold blood. It stiffens every part of
January 28th, 2010.
Someone out there is a toilet paper tester. They check out the scent. They investigate the softness, the flimsiness. They worry about the grip, the ripples, whether it rips. Someone
January 21st, 2010.
I’ve got a headache. It’s sprung from nowhere to abuse my brain. Not enough sleep, too much coffee, and quite possibly the edges of a cold all encroaching slowly on
January 20th, 2010.
I’m really freaking tired, so I’m going to keep this short. Saturday was our last day at the NAMM show and we saw a lot of cool stuff. Kristen wrote a
November 20th, 2009.
Almost home. Sort of. Almost home, but headed West at 75mph through Western Pennsylvania with every sense wailing “but you’re going the wrong way!!!”. As we round Pittsburgh yet again,
February 19th, 2009.
Excerpts from letters to a friend: So, Thursday nights at home, I help run a weekly open mic I’ve mentioned to you before. We run a monthly songwriter’s challenge, also
August 29th, 2008.
Sunshine is stabbing through as we find ourselves pinned behind a dump truck on I-70 heading rapidly out towards Louisville, KY eating molasses cookies. It’s going to be a long
August 28th, 2008.
Heather and Rowan and I are hitting the road again today, I-70 is flashing past and grey skies are glowering down, Rowan’s in the backseat putting on his distinctive orange-smelling
April 18th, 2008.
I’m often reminded that maybe my brain doesn’t work quite the way a lot of other brains work. Different types of connections, different types of leaps. I don’t remember things
September 21st, 2007.
“I’m not a real person yet.” It’s a funny sentence. A couple of my friends have uttered it or something similar to me. I think what we mean is we’re