Author Archives: didofoot
Nothing rhymes with “papaya scent.”
Last night I said, “You make me glow like a sparrow.” “Sparrows don’t glow.” “Like the ghost of a sparrow.” “Oh, that kind of sparrow.” “You make me glow like a dead sparrow,” I said, pleased. “I try.” I showered in his shower for the first time yesterday. It was amazingly painless for a boy … Continue reading
Late, as usual.
January 3rd was Tolkein’s eleventy-first birthday. Why don’t I ever find this stuff out in time?
E-mail tested, mother approved.
This happened when I was living in Santa Cruz and unhappy and plagued with enormous, fluid-filled pimples on every visible surface and cutting all my classes and crying a lot. I was sitting in my room fighting with my Syntax homework when the phone rang. I said Hello hello hello and no one said anything; … Continue reading
second adolescence, god help me
When I was thirteen, I fell in love with a character on a short-lived sitcom whose name I can’t even remember now. I was desperately, sweatingly in love, turning over and over all night like an eggbeater, gazing out the window for hours, writing the poetry, singing in the shower, sure that such a love … Continue reading
Plug
I went to high school with him and now he has one of the most interesting blogs I’ve ever seen. Plus, Jimmy apparently asked him some questions.
Maggie, Queen of the Skies
This is in the way of being an informational anecdote, providing you, the reader, with data from which to draw a portrait of Maggie: On her flight here, Maggie was lucky enough to be seated in one of the coveted exit rows. For those of you who take trains, let me explain: an exit row … Continue reading
My time with Maggie
The first night she was here, we went to a bar with the Sean(e) crowd. I had carefully arranged to have an event going on so that she would know how I am happening and fun and have many likeable friends. (Later I blew this casual coolness by accidentally referencing the fact that I had … Continue reading
In which she sort of makes up for the beard comments
So I’m listening to Seeking A Deep Feeling by The John Francis, which is the first solo album by everybody’s favorite Jack Small. It is surprisingly fabulous. (Surprising because I knew him before he met Erin, when he lived in the Doom Central room with Danny and the Lad and Sometimes Ryan, and you don’t … Continue reading
Happy Birthday, Bob!
You taught me how to tie a shoe, drive on the freeway, make a pie crust, take a picture that includes everyone’s head, hang up a leather jacket, write a resume and get a free birthday hula dance. I love you. Happy birthday, Daddy. (For some reason I can’t find an electronic picture of you. … Continue reading
Happy Birthday, Eydie!
You’re my role model in every way. I love you. Happy birthday, Mom.