Sad Like Keats

It’s decorative gourd season, alright. It’s reposting McSweeneys season. I’m about to go looking for the old TV State Fair ads with that big old redbird, too. And winter may be coming, but before it does, we’ll all be drowning in chemical pumpkin sauce.   It’s also about time for my annual explanation of how … Read more

Algebra II

There’s a frozen custard place in town we like to frequent. Mainly because it’s frozen custard, but we also like that it’s a local business. We kind of like that the process of ordering itself has its own local grammar – not as inscrutable and insular as the shouting chaos of Ivar’s in Seattle or … Read more

Anybody But Angelina

Anybody But Angelina Last week, Maleficent starring Angelina Jolie ended up being number one at the box office, most notably over the new X-Men movie, and I’m pretty sure I can explain why, and it may not be what you think, exactly. It’s important to tell you that I don’t know anything about either of … Read more


If you’ve got freaky sinus crap, you ought to go get yourself a massage. I sidled up to the whole idea slowly myself, because I typically don’t like Enya music, herbal smells or strangers touching me. In the dark. To be honest, I’m not a big fan of relaxation. It strikes me as an interval … Read more

Just Another Post

Brandon Flowers continues to fill the Jim Steinman-shaped void in my heart these days with his sweeping epiphanies, pickaxes masquerading as lollipops. “Just Another Girl,” one of two new songs tossed onto the recent compilation Direct Hits – it’s that song from the early eighties movie you saw in the theater they tore down to build … Read more

ITINIDKWBIPSIDWTIT (If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what, but it’s probably something I did without thinking it through.)

“Lemme know when you’re close to home. I locked the inside door, because, you know, the asshole Cardinal.” That was my text to my husband last night before I dozed off, waiting for him to get home from band practice. It may seem hyper-vigilant to lock the interior kitchen door to keep out a bird. … Read more

Singing After Dark

We’ve all been having some pretty strange dreams lately. Mine percolate these days with the kind of mildly fearsome, mildly consoling brew of Jungian/thrift store imagery that populates the horoscopes in hipster magazines. I woke up the last day at Oaklana still imagining my hands to be full of small stuffed animals: a blue monkey, … Read more