Remember when that duffel bag fell on her head?

Yeah, neither does she.

Where are you going
And from where have you came
From home and to home
Though they’re hardly the same

True story

There once was an unfilled exit row seat

vacated by a 14-year-old…

A volunteer is needed. I wait.

The flight attendant scowls, threatens:

Folks, we’re not leaving.

The big, strong, apparently useless men ignore her –

not to be bothered.

16-year-old, 100lb me steps up to be the hero.

Smiles big. Raises hand. Stands up.

Slams head on plane ceiling.

Receives dirty looks.

Too many peanuts make me nutty.
Too many hours and my brain’s putty. 


Eating Golden Oreos on the way to the Golden State.

I hope someone out there got a promotion for that idea.


Margin notes

as lines remind me of two.

(The pencil fell)

They’re inked, permanent –




Love makes awkward snuggling positions comfortable.
13B and C for example.
I just drink coffee and take notes.
They don’t notice.

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