Category Archives: My Stories
My Favorite Writer
If you were to ask me who my favorite writer is, I might be inclined to say something that would impress you with my great literary insight like Hemingway, Keats, Austen, Joyce, or Fitzgerald. I love them all, but if … Continue reading →
Why Deny Science?
I think I know that answer. It’s hard to admit, being a scientist of sorts. I’ve studied chemistry, biology, biochemistry, physics. I admired the way that science layers itself over time, building information and facts one on top of the … Continue reading →
On Writing
I think if one considers themselves a writer, they have a deep desire to peck out the great novel on an old fashioned typewriter. Now this does not mean you are not a writer if you don’t have this desire. … Continue reading →
Give me Comfort or Give Me….Never Mind, Just Give Me Comfort
Torture. I’ve been thinking about that lately. Not in a “50 Shades of Grey,” S&M kind of way, either. If only. After giving it some thought, I don’t think it would take much to torture me or any other … Continue reading →
Un-Adult-erated
We have a lot of conversations on the way to school in the morning. Maybe it’s the early morning; we seem to be morning people in this family. Maybe it’s the twenty minutes uninterrupted by Minecraft or Teen Titans Go … Continue reading →
Runner’s Guilt
There is something inherently selfish about running. It really serves no purpose to mankind. At least not overtly. I still haven’t gotten back into the running groove like I had intended. There are reasons, so, so many reasons. It’s cold. … Continue reading →
When God Attacks
Uh oh, I’m going to get a little preachy…. I used to be under the impression that if God was mad at me for something bad that I had done, then He would fuck up my life royally. He would … Continue reading →
Liberal Helping of Cranberry Pecan Pie
Do you want to know the BEST part of my job? Truthfully? I’m not even going to try to lie and say some bullshit like helping people. Nope. It’s not that. It’s the food. Lord, help me, it’s the food! … Continue reading →
Feed Me
The worst part about motherhood is not the lack of sleep. It’s not the complete and unending exhaustion. It isn’t the relentless breastfeeding, sore nipples, sore back, that deep and unfulfilled desire to move except you are tethered to another … Continue reading →
Changing Times
You know that the times they are a-changing when you have lunch with your dad and he wants to talk about Malcolm X. I tried to get out of the lunch date, not because I’m some kind of horrible daughter, … Continue reading →


