“Kathy, I’m lost”, I said, though I knew she was sleepingI’m empty and aching and I don’t know whyCounting the cars on the New Jersey TurnpikeThey’ve all come to look for AmericaAll come to look for AmericaAll come to look for America America, Simon and Garfunkel Sometimes you just gotta throw off the shackles and…

Letting go of routines is fucking hard. At home, I’d wake up around 7am, make coffee, check emails, surf the internet for an hour. If work was in, I’d jump on it. Otherwise, I’d watch the news for an hour, and then a couple episodes of Law & Order: SVU to get me through the…

If they ask me, I could write a bookAbout the way you walk and whisper and lookI could write a preface on how we metSo the world would never forget Songwriters: Richard Rodgers / Lorenz Hart Apparently I’m a Pants writer. As in ‘by the seat of my pants’. I don’t like outlining things in…

Spaghetti is a bugger to relearn. You need your front teeth to bite off the excess noodles. And because you’re concentrating on chewing with just your back teeth, a few strands tend to slide down the esophagus. Which you have to cough up. Or stick your fingers down your throat. I don’t recommend the second…

How freeing would that be? To not hold secrets. To live authentically. I know. It’s not feasible. You don’t want the convenience store owner to know your 401K. Always keep hidden your gambling addiction. Never divulge you believe in psychic phenomena. Or that garden gnomes make excellent security systems. Am I sounding paranoid? Or am…

The heat is bearable today. It’s maybe 30 degrees C with the humidity. A tiny breeze blowing off the river. Spent about 30 minutes on the dock drinking McGuyvered coffee. It was a rough morning. Wasn’t feeling connected. Worried I was going to ruin this trip for everyone. Feeling a bit better now. Kinda hoping…

Did you know Mister Freeze makes watermelon freezies? And did you further know that it has an after-taste that is not enjoyable?

I now have a full understanding of the concept of isolated showers/thunderstorms. Marlo, Maddy and I drove into town earlier. Their main street is about the size of my living room, but I wouldn’t wanna walk it in these heels. (Alice Baker. The Promised Land. You must’ve seen it at the Hamilton Fringe in 2019.)…

The coffee maker is broken. The coffee maker. Is broken. Okay, the kitchen light isn’t working. But the coffee maker is broken. Thankfully they will replace it, no questions asked. I was only cleaning out the filter. Not my fault the little spring doohickey fell off.

It’s so fucking quiet. Everyone’s asleep but me. No city noises. Just the hum of the portable a/c. Which will be sorely needed this week. Sleep was attained easily enough. No flat sheet needed though. That would’ve been too hot. It’s so strange. It’s 9:21 on a Sunday and I’ve no idea what to do.…