Pilgrim in the Trailer Park

 I was going to title this post That Time When I Had a Kitten for a Day. Well, cause that’s what happened.  We have a neighborhood cat we named Girly who eats at our house (aka the 24/7 cat cafe). When she first started showing up we could tell right away that she was pregnant. Well, the anticipated day came, and this chunky girly showed up without her pudge…so we knew the kittens had been hatched. And we planned on finding these kittens and making them ours because we’re kinda feline deprived ( not depraved) people, and kittens are such a joy, and we would be giving them a better life (i know first hand that life on these trailer park streets is not pretty).  But we had to wait. And wait. And wait some more.  Because you cannot take new born kittens away from their mother (like I said, not depraved. I’ll keep repeating it), and we don’t have the talents to raise practically naked and needy infant kittens (we tried once. We failed). So I waited four weeks until I got...

 Exploiting yourself in the name of writing (I like the ring to that): not as satisfying as you’d think. As a woman (didn’t think I’d ever use that phrase), I should keep my age and my secrets to moi, but I’m so hopelessly boring that I have to dig up dirt on myself (in lieu of my own psychoanalysis. As my friend Ray would say, “this is going nowhere”).  My mother called me to ask “you’re not quitting writing, are you?” with the same tone as if she’d asked if I was drinking again (how did my past and present become this diametrically opposed? (Hemingway operated a typewriter and held his liquor quite well)). I hadn’t planned such, but what are plans (? In regard to goals); if you produce no work people may as well assume you’ve hit the bottle again (except in infancy, I never really drank from a bottle per se)…I don’t like being stereotyped, but my little square peg does fit in the little square hole (can a hole be square?), however unique and original I think I am (the traile...