SALT LAKE CITY, UT-

I work at a computer software company. This means I am on the front lines of an ancient and terrible battle, much like the one described in the opening lines of Chapter One, “Certain Citizens of the Warm Sea,” of The Book of Fishes (1924):

                Even man’s most terrific wars against his fellows
                have a respite; they are but cataclysms in the normal
                course of the world; but the battle of fish against fish—
                furious, quarterless, to the death—is everlasting.

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COLUMBIA, MD–

People have a really bad habit of thinking I care.

Now, this should not be construed as me hating the world because, really, that’s only part of the problem.

The apathy at work here is far greater than mere hatred.

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PARIS-

In America, we take our language for granted.

If forced at gunpoint to describe our feelings about English, we might use the following words and phrases:

Flexible.

Fun.

Inclusive.

Open to new words like google, supersize and manga, just added this year to Webster’s dictionary.

We’re certainly happy it’s so popular outside the borders.

That way we don’t have to bother learning other languages.

But I’ve never heard any American – or Englishman, Australian or Canadian, for that matter – say they were proud of the English language.

We just go with the flow, and the easy and frequent development of our language reflects that.

Such is not the case, however, in a place like France.

They speak French here. (more…)

SAN ANTONIO, TX-

Today I had the lovely task of translating a death certificate.

From Spanish to English.

Our institute gets all manner of language-related requests.

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SARANAC LAKE, NY-

“It’s good to walk out of a prison and have a beautiful woman there to greet you.

This statement is accompanied by a grin and a wink of a raised eyebrow.

“You know, they all dream about it,” I reply.

This is night No. 3 of entertaining slam poet, Roger Bonair-Agard.

Entertaining might be the wrong word.

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CHARLOTTE, NC-

My sister was getting married.

Again.

This was going to be her second marriage.

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SACRAMENTO, CA-

Children have no inhibitions.

They are filled with wonder.

They have their whole lives ahead of them.

Anything is possible.

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LOS ANGELES, CA-

If I were a Bond Girl
I’d be Thunderball beautiful
Have a body like a smart bomb
Be Jill St. John, Britt Eckland and Barbara Bach
All rolled into one

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PHILADELPHIA, PA-

This is a love story. It involves a poignant moment of collecting urine.

Maybe it should involve velvety rose petals and a suburban porch.

It doesn’t.

It starts here, where my love first bit my fingers and left bits of rotting food on my hands:

I’ve peered at overflowing dumps with wistful eyes ever since.

That’s how I met him, the reigning love of my life who died on May 21, 2005.

In 1995, I was walking to work when a friend said, “Want a cute dog? He’s a really cute dog. I know you’ve been looking for a pet.”

She took me by the hand into the nearby set of dumpsters, where trash overflowed onto the ground, sidewalk, and street.

Among those decaying, forgotten things, I spotted a bright, intense face.

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SALT LAKE CITY, UT-

Recently a friend and I were talking about a mutual acquaintance.

His marriage broke up last year and he’s been dating this new woman for the past few months.

He just told my friend that the woman’s ex has come back into the picture, “which is too bad,” he said, “because I was about to propose.”

It was clear he was still considering it anyway, but my friend figured the ex being in the picture would prevent the woman from accepting a proposal from our overeager friend.

I wasn’t so sure.

You know how women get when somebody flashes an engagement ring in front of them.

They lose their minds.

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NEW YORK-

Here’s a typical situation I get myself into.

I’m going to the grocery store and there’s this guy by the bottle recycling area sitting in a wheelchair and calling, “Hey miss. Miss?! Hey!”

I don’t have a lot of time for beggars, so I hurry toward the entrance.

But he keeps at it, and is loud about it, “Oh, hey! Hey, I’m calling you! Can you hear me?”

Now shoppers standing near the front door begin to stare at me as if I am the rude one here.

This is when I get my bright idea. 
 
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PHILADELPHIA, PA-

You know what really pisses me off?

Stores that have puns for names.

Dog grooming joints are notorious for this. Drive past any stretch of suburban blandscape and you’re bombarded by sickeningly sweet monikers like:

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LOS ANGELES, CA-

Picture the scene

I’m at home with my girlfriend
It’s a Friday night
I’ve worked a long week

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SAN DIEGO, CA-

I live in downtown San Diego, a block north of the Gaslamp Quarter known for its faux gaslamps that were once real gaslamps back when half the storefronts were brothels and the other half were speakeasies.

Now these storefronts are trendy shops, trendy bars and trendy danceclubs where the over 21/under 25 crowd make fools of themselves whilst preening for hookups.

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MELBOURNE, AU-

Death.

It’s a curious thing.

I don’t mean to sound macabre but I’m feeling a bit philosophical and whimsical.

If it’s possible to feel whimsical about things of such a heavy nature.

I’ve had a fair bit of death in my life, and as time passes I’m able to look back on some of it and even giggle.

Of course, most of the time there isn’t very much that’s funny about death at all. Unless you’re reading the Darwin Awards.

Most of the time death is a vicious, sad, horrible and frighteningly inevitable part of life. which means, that on the odd occasion when something is funny about death, I have to seize it and run like a cheetah for all I’m worth.

Laughing in the face of fear is often the only weapon we have to combat it.

Sometimes I wonder if I have a sensitivity chip missing, or if I’m trying to protect myself with humor.

And I think, no, perhaps I’m just a little more twisted than even I give myself credit for.

And I think it’s genetic.

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LOS ANGELES, CA-

For a healthy girl, I am at the doctor’s office more often than anybody else I know.

There is virtually nothing wrong with me, other than my bad personality.

But that’s not why I’m at the doctor’s office.

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PHILADELPHIA, PA-

The first time you sleep with someone, some childhood skeleton will awaken and creak.

Maybe it will only be in your head.

Maybe it will happen out loud, and you’ll squirm in the moment, truly naked or almost revealed.

I’m scared of the dark. There. I’ve said it.

I will never forget my first night with my ex.

He usually smelled like grass, rain, and cars.

I know that because I live on and through smells.

I remember them like skin.

He leaned over my side of the bed to turn off the light. I shrieked.

“WHAT are you doing?”

“I wanna sleep now.” He cowered.

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SALT LAKE CITY, UT-

My husband Kelly’s mother didn’t return to Canada after depositing my stepson Kody on our doorstep last October.

Instead, she parked her RV a few blocks away, in Kelly’s grandmother’s driveway.

From there, she monitored our progress with Kody.

At first I found this unnerving. But eventually I resigned myself to the fact that she intended to stay parked there until Kody turns 18.

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PHILLIPSBURG, OH-

After three hellish summers in Madrid, I decided to do something different.

I went back home.

Home is Phillipsburg; Ohio, a suburb of a suburb of Dayton, which is famous for the birthplace of aviation (the Wright brothers grew up here), the Dayton Peace Accords (Serb-Croat conflict) and Guided by Voices.

Other than that, the place is basically the post-industrial plains. (more…)

AUVERGNE, FR-

This week marks one year since Fred moved in with me in Chicago.

And less than a year since his first visit where we met each other, nervously, at the airport.

After that trip we spent another two weeks together in France and went off to Budapest with a friend we decided to move to the next level and try out our relationship for real. (more…)