I don’t think the people who tell us to run a spaghetti thin trickle of water have ever actually used an old faucet. In New Orleans. I have bucatini sized. That’s as good as I can get.

All I can tell myself is he’s not “yours” anymore. Let him go. But it honestly doesn’t make it any easier. Onward. But it sucks.

My “next door neighbor” is the freight train tracks. And sometimes, I wish they’d just run the trains all night. Bc lying in bed to the soft rumble of the trains is just such a peaceful feeling.

I was a junior in high school when the Challenger blew up, 40 years ago today. I was in chem class, and our teacher was a hard ass who threw erasers at us when we got a chemical equation wrong. It was the 80s. You could do that then.

Hey #Minneapolis Just wanted you to know that lots of us in New Orleans see you. We are grieving with you. We are crying with you. We are outraged with you. And we are rooting for you. The people united will never be defeated.

Tonight I saw Roger Ebert’s name and in my head, I pronounced it as Roger Hebert. Have I been in New Orleans too long?

Let’s all run our water so our pipes don’t freeze and then wait to be told that if we keep running our water so the pipes don’t freeze, we’ll run out of water.

My dad had a stoic personality and so do I. I was told that was a bad thing all my life by pretty much everyone in my family except for my dad. He was too stoic to be invested in it I’m still not sure it it’s a bad thing or just a way of being. It’s all I know how to do.

I really really want to meet the people who see one of the absolutely insane Egenberg attorney commercials and call him.

I mad red-wine braised short ribs and risotto tonight for friends. Bc if I l love you, I will put my all into cooking for you. And then we raised a glass to those no longer with us. Especially tonight.

Made risotto and braised short ribs for a bunch of people tonight. Cooking is love.

A year ago today, a friend of mine shot his infant. And his wife. And then was gunned down by police while he tried to kill his other two daughters. It’s still impossible to process.

I still feel naked without my wedding rings. But nothing to do but keep gong. Wearing our 10th anniversary ring on my right hand now. Bc it’s a really pretty ring. And I’m considering it now as a thank you gift for birthing our daughter. Bc she’s wonderful, and I’m not at all biased.

I feel like an unattractive piece of shit and also that I’m prettier than I ever knew I was since my husband left. I guess my glow-up is in process. (Also spite. I am very kind naturally. But I dare you to push me. )

Watching the daily show from last night or the day before (what is time?) and one of the MN protestors is throwing a slices of bologna onto ICE cars so it sticks to the car. AND THIS IS MY PROTEST JOB. BOLOGNA THROWER.

I watched a woman get interviewed on the one-year anniversary of the Palisades fire. She lost everything. She was nine months pregnant at the time and her biggest sadness in the interview was that she hadn’t really been fully present for her daughter’s first year of life.

It is time.

I heard Chappel Roan for the first time this week and my reaction was, “Umm, do people not know that Tori Amos did all this first?”

Gonna need Michael Stipe and the guys to get back to for a new version of “It’s the End of the World.”

Thinking of my “happy labor newborn” picture. I was awake for 48 hours, all of which were induced labor. Which turned out to be back labor. I burst the blood vessels in both of my eyes during 16 hours of active labor. So yeah, I don’t have any glowing mom and newborn pics.

I am trying to be all “single,” but I haven’t done my best at forming getting my husband, despite his selfish ways.

As a child of the 70s m, I have so sometimes wonder why all the adults felt it was so important to impress on us that life is cold and cruel, and heartless, and then you die. I mean, my parents were relatively loving for people from the Silent Generation. But…

Also, if anyone needs to know the humidity level, you can just ask me for a picture of my hair. If I’m at Bozo levels of frizz, you should just stick it in a bun and stop thinking you can get away with it down. You CANNOT.

It finally happened tonight. I had to introduce myself in person to someone I only know online as supercalifragopossum and didn’t want to. I stayed incognito for 10 years for…reasons.

I miss playoff football. And I hoe rye Rams lose.

“There’s a terrible evil in the world, and it comes from men. All other elil just do what they do to live on the earth and get food. But men will never rest until they’ve spoiled the earth and destroyed the animals.” —Watership Down

Things I have said as a parent that confirm I’m Gen X: “If you slam that door one more time, you will no longer have a door. I’ll take it off while you’re sleeping and then you can slam something else.” May have also said, “Oh, you’re BORED?….I can give you something to do. “

The scary part is if I die, it could be “the cat ate my face bc he was hungry” territory. I live alone now. No roommate. No husband. I work remotely. I could be dead for several days before anyone notices.

The righteous rage I needed today. www.cnn.com/2026/01/07/u...

Our grandchildren are at some point going to get stoned and debate whether, if they had a time machine, they should use it to go back and kill baby Stephen Miller. YES. THE ANSWER IS YES.

Zero part of me is Cajun. (Irish, English, Austrian Georgia cracker mutt since the 1700s.) But I love this song. Along with “How you doin’ today, my baby?” youtu.be/oNtv7F2aDLY

I had two feral kittens that I started feeding a few months ago because cat person/KITTENS/CATS. They’re “teenagers” now but sit at the back door at 4:30 and stare at me imploringly until I feed them. And then hiss when I open the door to give them food. Lol. I always tell them how scary they are.

Happy Feast of the Epiphany, Twelfth Night, Kings Day, Jeanne d’Arc’s birthday, and start of Carnival. Go forth and eat king cake. Preferably with some sort of cream cheese filling.

Cracked me up seeing this tonight. Because at the time, the Saints lost their last game and were done, season over. And we haven’t been to the playoffs since the NOLA no-call travesty in 2019. Playoffs, PLAYOFFS? (Jim Mora voice)

Still gets me teary-eyed, three years later. Especially her hearty MERCI at someone holding up a Joan sword at the end. Sniffle. ❤️ youtu.be/mGZF7NUEmR8

My favorite part of my first post-separation holiday was giving “private walking tours” of the French and Garden District to my cousins. They gave me five stars but didn’t tip me. Except in beers. I am in no way, shape, or form a New Orleans tour guide. But 28 years here pays off eventually.

I had a good NYE with my cousin and his family bc we all crack each other up. But everything else feels like a wound that’s painful to the touch. My mom won’t read my texts or call me. My separated husband sends me mixed messages and won’t tell me whether we’re fully done or not.

The only thing our toxic family members process is if they feel loved or hated, regardless of what they’ve done to cause and provoke our negative or positive reactions. Who we are and what we feel are not considerations for them.”

Went to the Quarter tonight with some family here visiting. Teared up when we got to the memorial on Bourbon Street. Dear god, this has been such a horrid year for so many of us. Sending prayers and interpretive dances that 2026 will be kinder to us all.

My mom’s Christmas gift to me. At least now I know where I get my passive aggressiveness from. Compiling a list for her as petty therapy that I’ll never send.

And apparently, if I want to have a relationship with my almost 84-year-old mother, I must also go back to pretending my sister is fine and everything is fine. I am so ready to give up sometimes but can’t. Bc I have a daughter. My mother has made it pretty clear.

My house didn’t initially get water during Katrina. The water rose slowly, as the 17th Street Canal failure accelerated and spread. My house was in four feet of water for 14 days, is what I’ve been told. I thought someone had ripped the berber carpet out and I was walking on sheetrock. I wasn’t.

This game is giving me a headache.

My brain, watching Survivor: this would be more interesting if you killed someone at tribal, like in Squid Games. Fictitious. I kid. But yeah, that’s sometimes how my brain works. But my brain knows I’m being facetious.

I started 2025 married and with a friend killing his wife and baby before the cops shot him to death. Alcohol-induced psychosis. Still grieve for him and that wasn’t him. And my sister telling me I’m a self-serving cunt. And separated after 30 years.

This second half has been good.

Mom: Your sister has CHANGED. Therapist: No.

Things you learn w a narcissistic sister are be quiet; don’t have an opinion: stay out of sight and out of the line of fire. I’m 56 and haven’t seen her or communication w her in 18 months. It still affects me every day. Not her not being in my life. But my other family refusing to accept it.

Still my favorite photo of E with Santa at around age 8. No idea of what she said to him, but it looked serious.

If I die before my time, I hope someone will say, “Well, I guess god didn’t have a plan for her.”