All Saints’ Day Round 2: The Dead Are Better Company
It says a lot when my son and I both prefer the dead to the living. Last year he came to the cemetery mostly by force. This year, no coercion needed, just flowers, a picnic, and a plan to keep La Llorona out of it.
Plumbing for a Scapegoat
She spent five years hunting for a saboteur. The one she was looking for was her.
Case of the Doggie Bag Creep
Three takeaway containers, four rounds of drinks, and one very validated gut instinct. A small win on the long road back to trusting myself.
Game Over, Try Again
My tolerance for the bullshit is wearing thin. The neighbor who is incapable of managing her emotions today felt the need to, in front of the council and the few attendees who had arrived by that time, show her true colors in public. How embarrassing… for her.
Absence Makes the Hatred Grow Stronger
On the particular exhaustion of being back in your mother's hometown, and why some daughters don't miss the phone call.
