Tag Archives: daddy

The People I Know Say Funny Things (aka The November Blog: The Sequel: Day 15)

So my dad and I had a conversation tonight about our respective industries. He mentioned that a recent episode he’d directed had aired last week – one he’d worked on almost a year and a half ago. Surprised, I asked … Continue reading

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Caption This (aka November Blog Fest: The Sequel: Day 6)

I went through a lot of pictures today, because this documentary I’m a part of wanted photos of me as a po’ lil mexican baby. Found some funny ones of me and of family membes. Pick one (or more), and … Continue reading

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The Hot Air Balloon Story (aka EveryDay May: day 30)

Man, barbeque sauce is disgusting. Here are all the reasons why. Actually, I don’t have the desire or creative patience right now to devote a solid post to why I dislike BBQ sauce – I just wanted to freak Brian … Continue reading

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Protected: It’s Five Years Later (aka EveryDay May: belated day 28)

There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

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I Can Poem (aka EveryDay May: Day 23)

On occasion, I tweet miniature poems. I do it because I enjoy the challenge of fitting a piece that has both meaning and form into 131 characters or less (the hashtag #icanpoem is 9 characters long). I also find poetry … Continue reading

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Protected: Dear Alanah (aka EveryDay May: belated Day Five)

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Poetry Hour Will Ruin Your Good Mood

A lot of people have been telling me about how depressed they’ve been this week. Bad days and bad dreams and bad bouts of bad badness. So poetry hour today is informed by those bad things, if for no other … Continue reading

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The Week Before Thanksgiving (aka The November Blog Fest: Day 20)

[Author's note: This is a pretty depressing post. I don't recommend that you read it unless you feel like being sad and sort of confused. This was pretty difficult for me to write, and I didn't plan to write it, … Continue reading

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Untitled

Your palm and fingerprints, I told you, were often too warm when you would hold a heavy grip at the back of my neck, steering me into class when I was five years old. Hiding under my hair, your fingers … Continue reading

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I Remember Looking At Her

I remember I was seven when my brother was born. Which means I was six when I found out I was getting a brother. It seemed like a logical course of events to me, even then. I was three when … Continue reading

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