Red Pointe Shoe

“Everything is okay, but I’m rushing Jed to the vet right now” is how I began a phone call with Bill yesterday. And, nearly everything really was okay. Jed put up a fight when he got his toenails clipped, and his jerk pedicurist got one prettttttttty far down. Lord Google said that a good household solution was to apply cornstarch. That didn’t work. Lord Google also said to be concerned if the bleeding didn’t stop after twenty minutes. So, covered…

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Hey, here’s a grand idea: let’s get a goddamn puppy. Because I know anything about raising a small creature and also I’m sooo responsible with a gloriously predictable life plan. Here’s to being a sucker. I’ve always been a few years behind in the growing up process. Everything from molars to boys came after all the other toothy, sexual women got to go through the ringer. Here I am, twenty-almost-eight (at the time of the original writing), and talks about…

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My pantsless roommate carried the next door neighbor’s beagle mix to my bedroom because Sailor was too timid to climb the stairs. Sailor and his sister, Olive, are staying with us because half their house caught fire last night. Getting ejected into the strange and unexpected scenario of your own street filled with firetrucks whose job is to put out the fire next to your own bedroom window is, in a word, emotional. “What if” turns into “hell the fuck…

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The next time you get the flu and are 1,000% positive you’ve permanently broken your phone, my hope is that you get as kind and patient of a Verizon representative as I did, who graciously reminded me to turn it off and back on again. Thanks, Quon! But this isn’t a post about Quon. It’s about cooties. I’m going stir crazy as the sun is setting on my third day of what I’m mostly certain is the flu. Today has…

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Dropping everything and running away to Europe for one month: 10/10. Highly recommend. I got back two nights ago and am feeling all sorts of rosy, honeymoon-style feelings about returning to Life™. Familiar faces, dog-wrestling, and readjustment abounds. Technically, I was gone for a total of five weeks. I left a week ahead of The Great Escape to spend Christmas with my family in Los Angeles, and it was there I boarded a plane to Paris, where I camped out…

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