There’s always so much throat-clearing, when I start writing again. Am I apologizing to you? To some other imagined reader? To Pallas Athena, goddess of war and poetry? To myself? Showmanship, stupid. Stop making excuses and tell them you’re back. Slowly, yes, on silent haunches, etc., Fog City
There are days when I'm looking at my life through thick glass. I think you know the feeling. There are days when you care, and days when you... don't. Can't?
Kerstin and I camp in a pony pasture and chase the solar eclipse across Texas.
We popped out into the sun-bleached streets, and there beside us were Corrin and Dafne, rising up the BART escalator. “Hey! You dressed up!” Corrin lit up and Dafne ducked behind him. With eight minutes to curtain, we walked briskly in the summer breeze. Kerstin nearly started skipping, a will-o’
I guess it was my fault. Kerstin would like the karaoke condoms to be accessible, right as you’re running out the door. In case of a karaoke emergency. I moved them, in a fit of spring cleaning, to the champagne bucket under the table with the car keys and
It’s less than subtle that Saltburn, a movie about social media envy, is set before Instagram or TikTok invaded our lives. Every scene is a perfectly composed snapshot of wealth porn. A thirst trap. Of course, Saltburn does not wish to be subtle, in any way, at all. Much
Fifteen years old, in 1998, I desperately wanted to play with the other boys, and they all wanted to play Golden Eye. I have very fond memories of Golden Eye, but I was terrible. I always chose Oddjob and proximity mines. All that kept me from being too annoying was
Slower on my feet, but stronger, I suppose. A few of those pounds, at least, got added to my lats and chest. Started going to the gym with Agent Coulson that first year in San Francisco, and just never stopped. It’s hard, trying to be in my body. But
There’s always some urgent, instinctive thrill, hiking along the edge of the continent. A subliminal understanding of just how much of the planet extends out from those cliffs. I think that’s why, when we’re feeling really shriveled up, we run for the Headlands. For the past eleven
"All ready!" In the four-inch heels, Kerstin stood taller than me, and I felt suddenly off-kilter, like how the newspaper-reading public 100 years ago must have felt when Darwin or Einstein made their big splash. Fleetingly, uneasily, not at the center of my own universe. I put on
It’s searing and too bright. First the crowds. Turn the corner past the movie theater and see the shining, shimmering throngs nosing between stalls. Always a shock, from the still of our living room and out among these hundreds. Our first priorities are berries and bread, most weeks. Get
However you measure the gristmill of time. An ocean between, or eight miles of it, at least. Lapping at concrete shores, spraying the pylons and the sea lions. An empty stretch of sky. Blue today, thank god, with the conveyor belt turning in the fog, gulls swooping from the towers