Tag Archives: shame

Misreading

We were in the blue station wagon, my head in her lap. We’d come to this park near the basketball courts in Honolulu because the sky filled with shooting stars. One after another, for hours, as though the world were ending in failing light.

She … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Tomboy

I hate the word tomboy. It lands on me like a blow. Sometimes I actually flinch. You’re so determined to tell me I’m not a girl that you have come up with a word that literally means male boy. You are redundantly doubling down … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Rings

I met Ruly when she was still called by another name. This was in 2005, when I managed a bookstore. She had a jewelry store upstairs, and came down with a banner that she needed to hang from the air duct several stories above the … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

On the suffering of others

When my child was three, he inadvertently squirted hand soap into his eyes. We were in the kitchen. He screamed. SCREAMED. I lifted him into the sink and ran water over his eyes, but when I had him open them, I hadn’t gotten all the … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

I just can’t decide how much humanity you deserve

In the new age of acceptable fascism, I guess the thing I find most troublesome is how familiar it feels. I stood in Dachau Concentration Camp as a child. I looked at all the photos and the ovens. I stood there as a five year … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Privacy

I was twelve the first time I shaved my legs. Nervous, I locked the bathroom door and spent quite a while sorting out how to navigate┬ámy ankles and knees, and how high you’re actually supposed to shave. Before I’d finished, my dad kicked the … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Girl with heron

In the dream, a heron slopes by. There’s a river, and a fence, and stone walls everywhere. I’m standing in a pasture. Behind me are sheep. It’s Ireland, from an August when I was 23. The woman I am infrequently sleeping with is somewhere nearby. … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Hush little baby now don’t you cry

Two nights ago, I dreamed my aunt and her husband came to visit me in a high-ceiling town house in New Orleans. He stood at the base of the stairs in the hallway, and she followed me into the kitchen. We were both young women. … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Sontag

We watched the HBO documentary on Susan Sontag last night, and I found myself getting angry with her. She talks about truth in a way that feels false, then circles around and comes at it from another direction. The way I struggle with meaning. What … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Walk it off

I’m reading Cheryl Strayed’s Wild, and I’m struck by the way she is brave, defiant, vulnerable, and often embarrassing. It takes courage to write about how we’re ridiculous. Human. I was younger than she was when I set off for Europe by myself. Determined to … Read more

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments