Could You Eat Your Friend?

I was sitting in the chicken pen thinking how wonderfully sweet my girls are.

And then I remembered that they’re not and they kill their own.

Lord of the Flies.

Then I tried to remember if there was any cannibalism in Lord of the Flies.

And I thought, “Were they that desperate?”

Enough to eat each other?

Well, those guys in the airplane in the Andes were.

They ate their friends.

And family.


Have you tried?

Not tried eating one, just tried imagining it.

I’ve tried. A lot.

That’s a normal thing to think about, right?

Life Elevated

I have a lot of days off from work right now, many of which I have spent sleeping, eating, reading, and sleeping again.

I get panicky that I haven’t “done anything” over break so I go into a tailspin and try to cram in a bunch of activities. Then, I go into a tailspin because I am not at home, taking advantage of the alone-time and writing the Great American Novel.

In-my-head is a hard place to live.

Saturday morning I left the house to go run a few errands and see a noon movie with a friend. The plan was to return home immediately after the film so that I could have part of the afternoon at home alone.

After the movie and strolling around town and a trip to TJ Maxx, I arrived home at 6:00 pm, after my children.

So Sunday was going to be a visit to MCB at his jobsite and a hike from there, then back home to wrap up my masterpiece.

Or start it.

When I arrived at his workplace, I was offered Prime Rib for lunch (with Green Chili). Suddenly I was frozen; I was spontaneous yesterday – could I handle 2 days in a row?

But lunch sounded so good, as did a little bit of extra time with MCB.

“You can hike afterwards,” he suggested.

No, no I can’t. I can’t because I only allotted a certain amount of time away from my quiet house and if I take the time to eat, then I won’t have time to hike and still get home before I turn into a pumpkin.

I ate. I mean really, who could turn down prime rib with chili?

After lunch I stood by my truck, totally stymied. It was a beautiful day – was I really going to blow a day in the canyons because I was inflexible? Was I going to choose being an introverted, hermitish, homebody over  slickrock?

I was facing west as I pondered.

I gazed out at the horizon, steeped in indecision, and thought, “Utah is right there.”

And I jumped in the truck and drove, calling out the window, “If I’m not home by morning…”

See, I can be totally spontaneous. I can fly where the winds blow me. I can embrace adventure.

Besides, it was quiet time in the car – or almost quiet – Tchaikovsky, sun on the sandstone, blue sky forever, and I didn’t say a word to anyone for the entire trip.

I had been struggling with sadness that morning and with each step, the sadness slid off of me and I felt ecstatic.

Life Elevated.


Moving In


I think that I, we, are moving in with my boyfriend.

I swore that I would never, ever get married again and often finished that declaration with, “Probably won’t even consider living with someone again.”

I LOVE to sleep alone.

I love to masturbate.

I love to eat Cheetos (out of the secret stash in my shoe closet) in bed at 2 in the morning.

I love having my very own shoe closet.

I love to have total control over where I hang paintings, what paintings I hang, and how long I leave the Christmas lights hanging.

I love to not listen to music in the house and when I do, I love listening to the same CD 52 gazillion times.

I love being the center of my children’s world and not sharing the spotlight with another adult.

I love having the excuse, “I’m a single mom, I can’t do it all,” to not scrub the tub and just sit on my ass watching The Good Wife.

So what happened?

Honestly, I’m not quite sure. One day we were breaking up. Then we were back together and using the L-word, then he spent the night when my kids were home, then we went on a family mini break, then we looked at a house to rent and now we are signing a lease – seems like all in a week.

I kept saying “This has to move very slowly. VERY,” and then, without consciously changing my mind, I asked him to look at a house.

That was yesterday and today we are taking the children over there to pick out their bedrooms.

Oh God, I think I’m having an anxiety attack.