She calls herself a numerologist and astrologer, not a psychic. But she’s all of those things, and a medium besides. Oh, and a no-nonsense life coach. Exactly the person I needed to connect with in desperate times. And I did.
January 9, 2007
January 8, 2007
354/365 Donny
What is with these bad fathers, the ones who produce gorgeous, sensitive children and consistently neglect them after the divorce? We call them “sperm donors.” This one couldn’t even remember his daughter’s birthday. Clueless and stupid, they miss so much.
January 7, 2007
353/365 Curtis
Dour describes Curtis to a T. I always found humor under that ultra-dry demeanor, and sensed a certain warmth and sensitivity. But I’ve been known to be wrong before. So many people whose opinions I trust do not trust him.
January 6, 2007
352/365 Dianne
She showed a slide show (shot below the waist) of my daughter Jill’s birth to her childbirth classes. One father-to-be, a friend of mine, had seen the pictures after Jill was born. In class, he blurted out, “Oh, that’s Susan!”
January 5, 2007
351/365 Jimmy
I was 18, and horribly drunk. He was older. In the hallway outside a party he tried to take horrible advantage of me. But fortunately he was horribly drunk, too. Can you tell the whole thing was a horrible experience?
January 4, 2007
350/365 Alex
He was tall, slim, Russian-descended, and sooo bright. We were friends only, but sometimes that opens the door to the most fun. In high school we’d race each other down the stairs, feet barely touching the treads. Seems impossible today.
January 3, 2007
349/365 Juan
An architect, he builds poems with soft edges. Or is it his Spanish accent that puts them there after the fact? I imagine his house soft-edged, like a fairy-tale cottage. Inside, a fire awaits, and a bottle of Argentinian wine.
January 2, 2007
348/365 FBH
Remember the dream sequences where the movie/TV star breaks through the screen and steps into the room? FBH stepped through my monitor yesterday, carrying a bowl of waffle batter. No dream, this…we hugged, her welcoming hands warm against my back.
December 31, 2006
347/365 The Artist and His Wife
One New Years Eve I accompanied friends to the home of a couple I didn’t know. While others drank and gazed at the city lights, I drank in the sculptures, paintings, and rugs, discovering the importance of living with art.
December 30, 2006
346/365 Donovan
He aspirated meconium before birth and was hospitalized three hours away. In a medically-induced coma, his tiny body seemed no match for the intense treatment. But here he is at two, running around, asking for a “kayak” (ChapStick) for Christmas.
