Wind Swept.

One weekend: City lights in the rear-view, The Sunday Times, an Irish pub, sunsets, crashing waves, cold nights, sweaters, drive-up beach fronts, and books and books and books and books and books and the first glimpse of springtime sun.

Here’s to the warmer months to come…



I met a glass blower today on Capitol Hill. I didn’t know that could be your living these days. Apparently, Seattle has the second most glass blowing studios in the world after Murano in Venice, Italy. Walking down to the docks today, water on all sides, I wanted the sense of urgency that this city would be sinking too.

Triple Shot.

At the bakery in the market, the woman behind the counter always calls me “scrumple.” Like, “Whaddya need today scrumple?” “Try this this sample you scrumple you.” Not only is it weird, but it sounds like a baked good, and I just don’t like the insinuation that I have the same name as the things she sells.


“I want every day of my life to look like a postcard,” he told me.

“That’d be good,” I said. “Then you could buy the cheaper stamps.”


I heard this on the bus: “I just feel like we’re adults now. We can’t just go off and start stealing cars all of a sudden.”

Kids will be kids, that’s what I always think when I hear about motor vehicle theft.

Through west Texas

Through west Texas you told me I needed to take a step back

when all we had was yellow brick after yellow brick after yellow brick,

I stayed between the lines.

And that always bigger picture of things loomed

above us, gazing in through the windshield,

squeezing our cheeks like a grandmother, so proud.

For us, all that was were stars and stars and stars.

Hours crawled by a mile a minute and change.

You got quiet for fifty some odd ticks to the odometer

and I peeked over and saw your eyes open.

I flicked my brights to wink at you and maybe you missed it.

I took a step back.

What’s left when every thing’s ahead?

Triple Shot.

Sometimes, my life feels like just one long episode of Moesha.


A friend of mine in northern Canada sent me a picture of herself and her two huskies in layers and layers of clothes in a snow covered field holding up a sign that said “Occupy the Tundra.”


One of the better feelings in life is no longer ever asking, “hey, ummmm, do you mind if I like, take a shower?”

Triple Shot.

The Chairman at work.

April : What is Zumba? I keep hearing about it and seeing ads…

Me : We walked past a class in session this weekend. Looked like step aerobics without the steps.

April : Oh… So dancing around like a moron. I think they offer that at my gym. I think they offer that at every gym.

Me : Dancing around like a moron. I like it.

April : If that’s what they actually called the class, I’d totally take it.


If Lydia were an office, she’d be Suite 104B.


I should introduce you to Chairman Meow. I asked him to type up a bio for you. He wrote: ” ß e3g4mr4g65;gkyo6pr] -r0t]rty0 9a99999999999(((jirejgre'” and then promptly fell asleep on my keyboard.

Merde, il pleut.

Brought to you by the always genius of Ms. Sarah Plovanich