Sunday evening convos in our eclectic suburbia

When Matthew died, it really changed how I interacted with those in our neighborhood. Like with the exception of a few, I didn’t actually interact. Like when I saw people I knew “before” I, quite literally, ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction, and I also threw away block party invitations, and we turned our lights off for Halloween (not that anyone trick or treats anymore), and, one time, when I saw one of our neighbors, Ed, behind me in the checkout line in the grocery store, I put all of my newly-dyed dark hair over my face (Cousin It style) and silently prayed he didn’t see me. I saw Ed a few more times thereafter, each of which I pretended I didn’t know him. Continue reading

Three alarm f#ckory

So this story is embarrassing, and I should probably be writing something more reflective/serious, but I just can’t because I feel compelled to write this instead because it seems more fun and also distracting… So last Thursday night we had what I’d consider to be a three-alarm fuckory at our house, which confirmed to us that during this time of heightened anxiety, in moments of non-stress, Mark and I can be relied upon to go ahead and manufacture some stress ourselves. Continue reading