On Monday, The Teenager comes home from college, for a month. I am so looking forward to her being home, her new home. These last few months, living almost on my own, has been an opportunity for self-reflection. I am lucky in that I live alone, with my dog. No partner on-site full-time. So this moment of alone-time, these months of it, is louder than bombs (a nod to The Smiths, ofc). There’s a profound luxury in returning to your child-free days; again, I am not child-free. I am always with my daughter, under my skin, in my heart, on my mind. It’s this other thing, the physical, where she is not living with me day-to-day. Where I have to rush home from wherever I am to walk the dog. Where I make dinner for one. Where I walk out of my bedroom to utter quiet. No one asking for anything. No one plopping on my bed at 1 in the morning to tell me about her night. No one to share the simple things of life with, sharing those jokes that only you two know, sharing those pants that you’re so excited about, sharing those lippies she found while jap-packing across Europe. Oh, I have missed her being home. And while I have been enjoying the quiet, I have not been relishing in the emptiness. And I am so looking forward to coming home on Monday, knowing she has walked the dog, and seeing her sitting on my couch, telling me everything about her day.
Why are people in Florida so screwed up ?
Eliza Dushku. Baller. I have been a fan since the Buffy days, and I am so happy she won her suit.
Lisa Bonet, a model co-parent.
Die-hard Jenna Jameson fan.
If you have any interest in a smokey eye, here you go.
Am I in menopause? No idea? I know, right?
And now have a laugh with Joyelle Johnson.