Currently viewing the tag: "death"

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I have a lot of posts and projects on the back burner, right now. My body can’t really keep up with my brain. I feel like I need ten extra hours in a day, mostly so I can sleep through them without feeling guilty.

Friday Favorites // 019 ::

  1. Is it weird to like a toothbrush? I like this toothbrush. It’s black. Whatever, dental hygiene is important.
  2. While shopping for part of a certain fellow’s birthday present, I found these. They also come in rose flavor, so naturally I bought both. I’ve become a big licorice fan. The fault is entirely my mother’s, I am sure. I am also sure that she’d find it hilarious.
  3. Terry Pratchett (author of the Discworld series, and co-author of Good Omens with Neil Gaiman) passed, yesterday. If you haven’t read any of the Discworld novels, I think you should. I’ve still only read fewer than half, but I have loved them to pieces. The Colour of Magic is a good place to start, but check out this handy chart.  Mort is great, too. The man will be hugely missed. This piece from 2011 on choosing to die is an important, difficult thing to watch. Coming to terms with death is one of my biggest challenges, and I am so awed by people who tackle the idea with intelligence and dignity. Frankly, I’m a frightened crybaby.
  4. I bought a few lot more Jamberry wraps. Teej actually said my nails looked cute, the other day, which is nice because I assume that boys don’t notice things like nail polish. Timeless and Tungsten are both new for spring. YES, dark colors for spring. I will never stop saying that.
  5. I would like to own this Takashi Murakami pillow. Once upon a time when I was a young, pale, black-haired little oddling (circa 2003), I had the pleasure of seeing a Murakami exhibit at the MFA in Boston. It was one of the greater moments of my life. I visited for free multiple days in a row, thanks to my MassArt student ID.
  6. Red booties? Red booties.
  7. Yes, please, to this tunic.
  8. I love this anatomical heart wax seal. I worry, probably rightfully so, that the art of writing letters is long dead.

Happy Friday the 13th, by the way. ♥



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This has been sitting in my drafts for days. I’m publishing it unfinished. It’s hard to find words, and I’ve been a bit discouraged lately. This is me.

[written 12 June, 2011]

It’s been ten years since my mother died.
That day, I brought cupcakes to school for a friend’s birthday.

I had promised my mom that I would save her one.

That fucking cupcake sat on our kitchen counter for a week. I wouldn’t touch it. I couldn’t.

There will always be things I can’t let go of.

Styrofoam coffee cups from the hospital cafeteria still in a shoe box. Spools of thread. Every notecard with her signature starry-eyed smiling face scribbled on it

But for other things, ever so slowly, I am letting go.

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