“I think you co…

“I think you could fall in love with anyone if you saw the parts of them that no one else gets to see. I don’t know, like if you followed them around invisibly for a day and you saw them crying in their bed at night or singing to themselves as they make a sandwich or even just walking along the street and even if they were really weird and had no friends at school, I think after seeing them at their most vulnerable you wouldn’t be able to help falling in love with them.”


“True friends a…

“True friends are those who came into your life, saw the most negative part of you, but are not ready to leave you, no matter how contagious you are to them.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson


“Falling in lov…

“Falling in love is like getting hit by a truck and yet not being mortally wounded. just sick to your stomach, high one minute, low the next. Starving hungry but unable to eat. hot, cold, forever horny, full of hope and enthusiasm, with momentary depressions that wipe you out.

It is also not being able to remove the smile from your face, loving life with a mad passionate intensity, and feeling ten years younger.

Love does not appear with any warning signs. You fall into it as if pushed from a high diving board. No time to think about what’s happening. It’s inevitable. An event you can’t control. A crazy, heart-stopping, roller-coaster ride that just has to take its course.”
― Jackie Collins, Lucky

A Letter to That Nice Guy I Ignored That One Time

So strong and powerful and true.

days like crazy paving

A comic depicting the difference between what a Nice Guy thinks is happening between him and a girl and what is actually happening. a shift in perspective can help.

Dear Nice Guy,

I’d say you probably don’t remember me, but I know you do. I know you remember me the way you remember every single girl you’ve ever latched onto like a leech who also happens to recommend books and carry shopping bags. I know you remember me because this is a small town and people talk and you wouldn’t believe some of the things people tell me you say about me, except that I guess you would because I know for sure that you said them.

I know you’ve waxed poetic at length to anyone who will listen (and a fair few people who won’t) about how I don’t know what I’m missing. And you know what? I guess you’re right. I don’t know what I’m missing. Maybe if, somewhere between the endless offers of a lift home and the free coffees…

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Holocaust Day, My Children, and My Mind’s Eye


Emily L. Hauser - In My Head

Auschwitz_TrainOccasionally, on Holocaust Day or some other, random day, I will look at my children, and see them on a train.

See them starved. See their clothes in shreds. See them with blank eyes and sores on their faces, their hair matted, all joy, all light, gone.

My mind doesn’t allow me to go far down these paths (a fact for which I am eternally grateful), but it peeks down the path, toward the incomprehensible at the other end, and then I recoil in pain and tears.

If for no other reason that I know that I am not, really, seeing anything.

My mind providing me, unbidden, with an image it imagines to be something like Jewish children at the time of the Holocaust is simply me overlaying a hundred thousand photographs on top of my beautiful children’s faces. It’s nothing like actually seeing it. It’s not being a mother…

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No one EVER notices… do they?

Its one of those days.

A Monday.

You are already sleep deprived and now you’ve got to get up and go somewhere… and do… something. So you drag yourself out of bed. You stumble around your house. Get coffee. Find clothes. Do anything to that “bird’s nest” pile of hair to make it at least semi-presentable. Get your things together. Get into the car. Then you remember that you forgot something. Jog back into the house. AFTER fumbling with the lock on your door. Find that thing you forgot. Now you’ve gotta pee. And you realize you didn’t brush your teeth this morning. So you swish around some mouthwash. And if its Listerine, you start to cry. Cause it burns your face off. Finally, you’re in the car. You’re all ready. The house is locked. You didn’t forget anything. You break into a smile and think: “Hey! Maybe this day won’t be so bad. Maybe things will even out once the day starts rolling!”


You get to work (or school) and everyone has got their own agenda. They fly past you. They jostle you. They mumble something that could be taken as a vague greeting. And you some how make it through alive. You are wearing new clothes and new shoes. You got a hair cut on Sunday. You’ve recently dropped a few pounds. Your teeth are dazzling like diamonds. Your breath smells like Listerine (with a tinge of blood… from your face burning off)

And as usual?

No one notices. Not a word. Not a peep. Not even a glace in your direction. “Oh cool!” You think. “I’m the invisible                  !!!!!”(insert gender) And you quietly sit down.

And it is. As usual.

A Monday.