TMi

Wednesday I went to Tijuana and then across into San Diego. I didn't exactly know it at the time, but it turns out that was the last time I'll be making the crossing for at least a month. The border will be closed to 'non-essential' travel by midnight Friday- today. It seemed like there were too many people outside even though it was pishing doon off and on all day. And, oh, there is supposed to be this highly contagious, potentially deadly virus going around. It was like folks were furiously trying to pretend nothing different is happening in their little end of the world. The rain has been abundant recently, so at one point the car had to turn around and get on the toll road because of flooding. The border crossing took about 40 minutes. Not a long time, but not that quick either. The wet US roadways buzzed and hissed with drivers also desperately pretending nothing is changed; the pretending was so hardcore that there was a two car smash up on the fre...

About twenty percent of people on the planet have Reynaud's Disease/Syndrome/Phenomenon . The numbers vary depending on what source you cite, but no matter where you look, it is clear that this is not a common ailment. It is, however, something I suffer from . Some people have called it being allergic to the cold. To me, it is more like having a stutter in your arteries. The blood vessels are called on to do something quite ordinary and natural, but they get freaked out and overwhelmed by it and then don't operate properly. When it kicks in, I feel like I become the ambient air temperature. I feel like I wear the flesh of a dead person. It can be harder for me to speak because of the decreased feeling in my face. I noticed this happening when I was a teen. I saw that I was the only one in PhysEd who could not warm up while running track in cooler temperatures. I found out that not everyone's hands turned bright red and hurt afterward. Not everyone's toe...

in all the sparkling hosts that sparkling host-ess cup cake of welcoming sweetest smiling red and velvet lips speaking nothing but welcome warmly crushed by selective perception in idiot wonder watch her sparkler smoke and ashes you learn nothing leering 

Thanks even in the middle of no thanks. These recent cancer episodes in my life have left me mangled, near to breaking point. And I have been trying to put on a brave front and not let on- Let on that I had to see a doctor this month because my entire digestive tract basically stopped. And that it was more complicated than just a little stomachache. Irritable Bowl Syndrome they call it. IBS they call it for short. Huh.  Three stinking, little letters triggered weeks worth of weight loss, poor absorption of nutrients and consequent panic attacks of ridiculous proportion. I am improving finally.  It was interesting to sit there in the doctor's office and hear him use the label of ' Type A personality .' If only he knew what has driven me to the anxiousness that I am certain he could see in my bearing- all over my face. It is also interesting to note that science really does have a pill for everything. It has even concocted one for rhyth...

Monday we had The Rocco put to sleep. By Tuesday his grave was dug and his body interred between two bougainvillea bushes. Not far from La Cookie [ 1 ] [ 2 ].     When Rocco came to the house, he had a big bark and a mean bite. He was an unruly  street rescue. And was by no means a tea cup poodle.  I had to keep my distance from him for the longest time.   Rocco’s main purpose was to be the household guard and alarm system.  He looked the part. He sounded the part. He did his job well- most of the time.  He liked to think he was a expert by the way he would trot back inside all self-satisfied after a good barking. During the middle of the day. After he was told to stop it already and come back inside. Because the startled women with their baby strollers weren't a threat. It took him a while, but when he figured out who his pack was, he turned out to be a big softy under all that woof power. He would escape...

Photograph: Shawn Punch . Hair and makeup: Madge Earle .