Just learned that a former boyfriend of mine, Ray Brizendine, passed away unexpectedly. He was 41 years old. I first met Ray, as did many others, in his role as backward-walking, sass-talking tour guide at Rice University. A year or so later, after I'd enrolled, I met Ray on the second floor of Jones College. It was the day after Windsor castle burned, my nineteenth birthday, and I'd stayed up all night celebrating with friends. Running down the hallway with Angela Hung on my back -- or maybe I was on Angela's back -- we crashed into Ray. Our first conversation was sitting on the floor amid images of the burning castle on the cover of the Houston Chronicle.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
Ever since the stroke she’s been unable to see pictures in her head. When she tries to visualize something, she can't. She can see everything outside her head just fine. Inside her head: nothing.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Saturday, August 11, 2012
My friend's dog Daisy loves to eat condoms. He says he can't leave one on the floor for even one second before Daisy runs over and snarfs it up. He thinks it's the lube that makes the condom seem so delicious to her, or else she's just really stupid. In any case, he'd taken her out for a walk in the park one afternoon . . .
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
banana image courtesy: Fir0002/Flagstaffotos
If your plastic doll lost one of her legs in a playground accident, you could pop it back into her hip socket. Even if her leg were badly mangled by a lawnmower or melted off with a blowtorch, you could order a replacement, theoretically, from a toy warehouse in China. Snap the new leg on – she’s as good as she ever was.
When you feel a painful emotion, your instinct is to recoil. It's painful, so you pull away.