It’s so close.

I would like to thank the academia, and my husband Jason who supported my jackrabbit decision to quit my job, go to school full time, live like a pauper, and be too obsessed with learning for a year and a half to be any fun whatsoever. Also my car Charlotte who always had an old OSU sticker on her back window which I am sure contributed sub-consciously to my university choice, after all any other Oregonian mad enough to own this car is surely a kindred spirit. And everyone I’ve been a crappier friend or relation to over the past 13 months because all I could think about was on a page or in a lab, believe me when I say I’ve spent the majority of my time in my house but my theme song has been I’ll Be Coming Home Next Year.

Alllllmost home!

PS. Apparently the allures of ‘regalia’ are lost on me.


I’m taking a sociology of aging class right now, and an assignment this week was to think of a social norm that puts an upper age limit on some sort of behavior, like driving, and argue in favor of or against the restriction. My thought was that society needs to quit shaming old people for dressing cool and sexy, stop trying to beige the world, Helen, we have enough of that from the everlong condo popup book this city’s turning into. This is clearly a topic I have a lot of emotion about, so I wrote a fire-and-brimstone sort of piece and was well pleased with myself.

The crap thing about online classes is that to foster a false sense of group and collaboration, you have to read at least two other peoples’ assignments and write up a ‘thoughtful’ response. This week some idiot human that I assume is nineteen wrote that they think there should be an upper age limit at bars and clubs with dancing, because old people should have grown out of that by now and it’s creepy when they’re there. Why don’t they get their lives together. AND THEN THEY SAID THAT THE UPPER AGE LIMIT TO KEEP THINGS UNCREEPY SHOULD BE 33.

I swear, there are so many types of non-kindred spirit in this world.


My Thoughtful Response


I am cool with getting an f this week

I mean no disrespect but I couldn’t disagree more with your idea. I think that everyone should be able to spend their time in ways that make them feel happy and connected to their communities and other people. For some people, going out clubbing is what they’ve been doing their entire adult lives, and they haven’t lost the joy of it. I personally am 34 years old and would feel like my life sucked if I all of a sudden couldn’t take the old carcass out dancing on the weekend anymore. Although a lot of people lose energy and their taste for loud music and dancing as they get older, some people I know actually keep their stamina and fitness up by going out dancing. I do understand that as a woman sometimes older men can be creepy – but I also just feel like sometimes any man can be creepy. I don’t think you should exclude an entire group from an activity because some of them are creepy, or you will wind up with teenage girls only dance night and that comes with its own potential for creepy too. It may just be because I’m older now myself, but I think it’s kind of unfair to expect all people to grow old in the same ways. Just because some people want to keep up activities they enjoyed when they were younger does not mean that they are stuck in that timeline’s entire lifestyle. They could have three kids, a mortgage, and be taking care of their sick mom, and need to go out dancing on the weekend after the 40 hour work week to relieve some of that very adult stress. I personally think you should take creepy old people dancing as an invitation to age any way you want to, also. As long as you can still zip up the knee boots the sky’s the limit.

it sucks as it cuts

April 7, 2018

Wayne’s World was on tv last night and now I can’t help calling the dogs ‘psycho hose beasts’ when they’re bad.

sometimes in life

April 2, 2018



















I bring you no thesis on the origins of your disrespect

I offer no evidence of its harms.

I refuse it because I choose to do so

I bring you my own standards for the culture we create between us.

I do not have to explain myself to you

But if you’re nice to me I would love to.

through a telescope

March 2, 2018



last years ribcage

purple sunset


mended web



snow on the rooftop



snow agate



mia gold


up dawgs



I am just sitting here, drinking my second coffee because I am not a morning person but the dogs both are, blearily thinking about not much, except that it is beginning to look like spring and I bet the grass on the side of the house that nobody spends any time in because a) there is nothing to do there and b) if you are a dog there are tasty cigarette butts to eat there that our neighbor graciously tosses over the fence (I know, I lie awake some nights thinking about the juxtaposition of those cigarette butts, and that grass) is growing like crazy and somebody ought to do something about it.

A thought welled gently into my mind: well but those kids already took care of it. And then my body buzzed with the shock it always feels when my mind has taken a dream literally and is disappointed with the allocation of goods and services between dream and reality.

Last night I dreamed that I was looking out the front window in my craft room, and two neighborhood kids rode up in their little power wheels ride on cars. They both had retro low rider corvettes, or the following story would not have been possible.


They waved at me, drove their cars summarily onto my lawn, and began to cut cookies across it. Shavings of grass flew out behind them as they went, because of course you see, the bottoms of their cars were lawnmowers. (God knows where they kept their feet, hopefully there is an inside cabin to those corvettes. I would remember from childhood but [great bitterness] nobody I knew and I were ever rich enough to see one of them in real life, although I did run into a few of the jeeps while I was still under 40lb).

Having a glorious time of course, shredding 360 degrees in clouds of grass clipping, they cut the lawn into a beautiful pattern of circles. When all the grass was cut they waved and drove over to the next door neighbor’s yard, where I expect their grass dust will kick up no cigarette butts.

Now I am sitting here with my second cup of morning coffee, facing a world where none of this happened and furthermore is not going to. They say you’re supposed to be the change you want to see in the world, but sometimes that’s just not possible.