This was never meant to be a space about grief. It was meant to serve as a haven, a skunkworks, an indoor track to put me through my paces and learn to actually do the thing I now essentially do for a living.
My heart has been stolen twice.
I did it. I heaped everything I owned into a uhaul, drove for five sweltering days, and drove across the country to Portland.
Continue reading “… I Look So Fine, and I Feel so Low.”
This all boils down to a long-lost mixtape given to me in roughly 1996.
Forgive the Marcel Proust act here, I am literally all over the place.
Everyone I know eventually hears this joke. I now offer it to you. Punch line is delivered by video. Suffice it to say there are spoilers below the cut.
A novel fragment. Remember the family is Southern. Imagine that sis talks like Ms. Munson. Opinion: Aside from TBL and Fargo, The Ladykillers is the Cohen Brother’s masterpiece. The song referenced is a pretty sweet tune, too.
Other family tidbit: I call
ed my sister “Smelly Michelle-y”
(and, yeah, I did yell “Ce Cosa Fa!” Per che Veloce!?!?” as this place’s owner, my neighbor five houses away, nearly hit me on his Vespa)
It’s a Tom Waits pun. And, obviously, I need to clean my apartment.
The following story is both truth and fiction.
It’s truth in that the chess game annotated beyond the cut represents a huge, heartbreaking moment in my life, the point when I stopped loving something I loved. A thing that I would now like back.
It’s fiction in that… it’s going to be, like more and more of these posts, a novel chapter. In the story, J’s little brother Todd, with the frosty hair and a cooking show called “Foods for Dudes,” actually finds Nd5. I have this pegged as about the fifth of fifty-ish “epistles.”
Strange Jeff Fact: I call a military cadence to myself as I run.
Stranger Jeff Fact: I misunderstood it until a few days ago.