Twisted ~ All On My Own

It all began to fall apart when my brother Jim died in August of 2018. Nothing since has ever felt the same. Until it happened I couldn’t have known my little brother was a weight-bearing cornerstone of my planet. It’s small solace to know how much I’m sure this pleases him. It happened the same week my one and only son moved to NYC (soon to be San Diego, and then West Hollywood). The same week one of my closest friend’s sons stepped in front of a train. Every single belief I held as a sure thing came into question.…

Twisted Fears

Lately when I write it sounds like I’m taking myself way too seriously, sort of like a 51-year old hormonal tight ass.  Nothing could be more completely unacceptable. But even as I write those words I hear a voice in my head say, “Well, it IS your only life.  It would be nice if you didn’t fuck it up.  You might want to take it a LITTLE seriously.” Some people stop eating (not me), some people get ulcers (not me).  Fear simply paralyzes me. I just had the most evil thought . . . I’m starting to sound like Oprah. * * * As Anni said…

Twisted Pieces of My Heart

I’ve been the kind of mother who is a pain in the ass to all authority.  I once wrote 2 pages of instructions regarding my daughter’s potential haircut.  After handing them over to the salon owner I proceeded to burst into tears.  She did not get her hair cut that day. Oh, yes, I am a fucking freak.  In my defense, I have had fine, straight, brown hair my entire life.  My daughter has magnificent blonde curls.  How can she possibly be mine?!  If you fuck with her curls, if you even tell her she should straighten her hair, you awaken a wildebeast…