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Dying to Remember in 2016

Posted on December 27, 2016

I remember reading the newspaper headline about River Phoenix. I never once thought, “This took too long for me to find out.” As the idols of my youth die and friends post about broken bones and their parents’ dying, I realize I am old, old enough to be able to anticipate that people I have known or loved will be dying. George Michael, Prince, Michael Jackson, none of them perfect, but oh, the spaces they held in my life—the guy who blasted Father Figure on a first date with me, “This makes me think of the girl who is pregnant with my kid” or Michael Jackson for just being so different and not making me feel like a misfit for not looking like a girl…

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Here We Are & There We Were

Posted on December 19, 2016

The last ten years have been growing up all over again, from learning how to be a partner in a marriage, to learning how to be a parent and a business partner. Talk about all-elbows and knees, and if I’m honest, stubborn chin and chips on shoulders. I never imagined how closely raising myself and raising my kids would overlap. I suppose I thought time would give me the courtesy of allowing me to figure myself out before it became time for me to stand at the edge of precipice after precipice with blue eyes on me asking, “Do you know what to do next?” The saving grace has been that for the first time in my life I’ve trusted myself. As a mom, while…

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Hate Unchallenged is Hate Allowed

Posted on December 1, 2016

I was trucking along for a while there, reading posts, writing some of my own, commiserating in private groups, but then it became too much. There was a local story about a rainbow Mickey Mouse being ripped from a car antenna and being replaced with a hastily scrawled, “Fuck You Mickey faggot” on a napkin. A comment left on the FB thread, “Get over it, it’s a piece of paper.” I absorbed countless similarly worded comments directed toward people who had fear or sadness over what has felt like a surge in publicly communicated hate. “Why do you even care? It’s not your fight!” Sometimes a rant gets interrupted by heartbreak.   I got tired of playing whack-a-mole on Twitter with assertions people make that racism…

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