When I write, I write about people and memories, not smells, though smells do conjure up lots of memories about people. Here’s a new memory, thanks to the smell: Slumberhouse Ore. When I sit in a dark corner in a private booth at a ramen restaurant, after a long day of friends and fairs, I’m in dinner mode. I’m ready for food and drink. But when I sit in a dark corner in a private booth at a ramen restaurant […]
It’s the time of day when the sun pours through the window next to where I lay my head to sleep and I lie down on the bed and close my eyes for a nap. I watch the inside of my eyelids turn the color of Mars. My face gets warm and I’m reminded of the first time I visited the gynecologist. Ladies build it up to be some horrendous thing, but everyone who has ever shared their experience forgot […]
Categories: stories • Tags: Chow mein, Gynaecology, Light, Mars, Obstetrics and gynaecology, sun
I somehow managed to submit a couple of simple and cynical writings while getting my interior design degree. What follows is the preface to an anthology about childbirth I compiled right after high school. Preface The notion of a woman sprawled out on starched, white sheets, with her legs reaching out towards the ends of the universe in preparation for a pulpy, gray and purple breathing mass to desperately inch its way out of a hole whose existence I was […]
Categories: stories • Tags: Andrew McKenna, Anthology, Father of the Bride Part II, Umbilical cord
“Will you go home with me?” I stood in front of her and petted her bangs, heavily exhaling 6 hours of fermentations on her face. Her hair was BEAUTIFUL. I stared at her fringe all night and this was the first conversation that didn’t start with me asking about her hair. “Did you cut your bangs that angle on purpose?” “I love how the curve shows off your eyebrow.” “Have I met you before? Did you have curly hair?” She said […]
Categories: stories
Driving through oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-die fog is one of my favorite things. It’s thick and creamy and gray and dreamy. Give me a few passengers and I love it even more. I’ll scream during every turn of the tour out of sheer joy and excitement. When am I ever up that early with actual people to share being up that early with? But this morning I was by myself so I kept quiet and got lost. I thought about leadership. It was scary […]
Sometimes you’re leaning in a doorway, watching a man eat a steak with his pants and boxers around his ankles, and to be polite, you avert your eyes and see a small red Dirt Devil by your side. You ask aloud, “What was that movie called about witches who rode vacuums? With Sarah Jessica Parker, Bette Midler, and some fat, funny woman?” You can’t remember. No one around you can either. The following day you’re still talking about it (with […]
Categories: stories • Tags: Bette Midler, Halloween, Hocus Pocus, Sarah Jessica Parker, Witchcraft
Environments trigger more sensations in me in than music, art – maybe even people. It’s why I rearrange my bedroom when I’m upset, it’s why a disheveled office inspires curiosity, it’s why naval air stations trigger plasmic releases from my nether regions. It was my first excursion to the Alameda Naval Air Station at night. Everything from the security lights just bright enough to meet code, to the massive ships that were the finest examples of neo brutalist architecture on a […]
Categories: stories • Tags: Alameda California, Alameda Naval Air Station, Brutalist architecture
You know how they say serial killers usually start off hurting animals? Ryan’s idea of a play date was me coming over to watch him hurl bricks at lizards sunbathing on his backyard wall. The kid played sports and had great aim. Ryan’s idea of a play date was me coming over to watch him give baby birds that had fallen out of trees swimming lessons. The kid had a shovel and could dig deep holes fast. Ryan’s idea of […]
Categories: stories
She was a sitcom quality neighbor. Her laughter passed walls, hedges, driveways, and entered our house every night…and we didn’t even have to let her in. Her hair was a massive tree of curls, every branch reaching a different direction, trying to capture the whole of the sun. Her hair tree succeeded. It was jet black. One day, her tree of jet black hair caught a Japanese beetle. I was in the back seat of her van, watching her drive […]
Categories: stories • Tags: Japanese Beetle, laughs, memory, Neighbors
We were sitting in silence, fully absorbed in the compliments that had just been exchanged, lightly tracing each other’s waists, when she came down the stairs. “K just told me that he had a journal entry from the night….from the night Mr. Betty was killed.” Her eyes became more reflective and her lower lip quivered. “I’ll never forget that night. Never.” The following seven minutes were spent listening to her recount the barbaric tale of loosing her friend first, and […]
Categories: stories • Tags: death, diary, rooster, This American Life, urban farm, wet pants
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