I have a complicated relationship with Medusa. Of course, Medusa herself is a complicated girl — with an identity that spans classical myth, castration anxiety (Really Freud? Really?), and angry feminism. She’s been shadowing me forever, it seems. For one thing, my hair is a mop of spiral curls, and for a time, by certain people, I was referred to as having “Medusa Head.” It was meant as a joke, … Continue reading Medusa Got A Bad Rap
For years, I have been talking about writing a book. Talking about it and thinking about it, and wondering if I could, and what it should be about, and if anyone would read it, and if people would be mad at me if I did. I’ve made several starts at this, taking classes and trying to publish stories, blogging (very) occasionally, reading out now and … Continue reading Books & Letters
People want to talk to me about the TV show Smash all the time. Without preamble, they’ll excitedly tell me they saw one of the actors in the park, or confess they lurked while a scene was being shot on their street, or start singing one of the songs at me. It’s a fair assumption to make, that I know and love this show, given … Continue reading Why I Think Smash Is A Tragedy
I am constantly telling people they need to read “The Gift of Fear.” I am a freaking one woman Gavin De Becker parade, to the point where I have to re-buy it several times a year because I keep giving it away. Until now, my de Becker immersion has been mostly theoretical, which is how you want it. But it all got real this afternoon, when some totally … Continue reading So This Happened
I don’t have a nickname (unless you count “Stef,” which I do not). I’ve been trying to make “Scully” happen for years now. Alas, just like “fetch,” it’s not going to happen. But when I was very small, I was my father’s Sweet Petunia. And it suited me then, all chubby cheeks and giggles. I’m pretty open about the fact that my relationship with him … Continue reading A Petunia By Any Other Name
My mother annoys me. I love her, and we get along fine. Better than fine, frequently. We make each other laugh, and we’re on the same side more often than not. She adores my daughter and treats her like royalty, like Emerson is here to do something very important and my mother’s job is to nurture her until she fulfills her destiny. And that fills … Continue reading Black Box
Urban Dictionary variously defines “shugging” as: going to the toilet while half asleep (and missing the toilet), furtively masturbating, or searching through a bag of marijuana leaf shake for enough bud to roll a joint. This post is not about any of those things. This post is about exercise. A couple of months ago Jonathan came home with a sledge hammer. Jon’s not really a … Continue reading Shugg It
I’m what you’d call well-endowed. Or, if I happen to be walking by and you are drunk or wearing a construction hat, you might call me a brick…house (which, well into motherhood, is A-OK with me, and thank you, sir!) Dealing with my boobs has been an occupation of mine since they first arrived on the scene — demanding an underwire bra — when I … Continue reading Confessions of A Bra Snob
The first day of Summer 2011 is June 21, so I figure I should post my thoughts on last year’s summer reading list before I get going on this year’s. “I’m Down” by Mishna Wolff. According to the Publisher’s Weekly review on Amazon: Wolff details her childhood growing up in an all-black Seattle neighborhood with a white father who wanted to be black in this … Continue reading Reader Roundup (2010 edition, file this under “better late than never”)
A penguin. Continue reading You know what I want?
Working Without a Net 