Ruminations: Seattle: Coffee, Donuts and Another Life

Two days ago was National Donut Day. We have decent (actually really good) donuts in Lafayette, but certain foods oftentimes taste better when you have memories to attach them to. When I was little, I really loved Shipley Do-Nuts in Alexandria. Not only were they packed with sugar plus jam or icing or creamy stuff, but…

Prose: Seattle: Everything’s Going to be OK

I used to live a few blocks up, behind you, and around the corner. You can’t see it but up there is Joe Bar. It has cozy loft spaces for sitting and sipping coffee or wine or eating crepes, but they’re tiny and get hot in the summer. The spaces, not the crepes. Across the…

Prose: Summoning Seattle

Even though it’s a balmy 1,000 degrees out in South Louisiana, today I will be summoning my inner Seattle. Memories, so many. Feels like yesterday. We were all hangin’ patchouli’d-out, cloves-in, at Ernie Steele’s. Where were you? Living in the 90s. Drum beats. Wood floors. Vampires in my bed. “You’re life’s just like Singles,” she…

Prose: NYC Ramblings

Hot, bitter coffee in my cup swirled with sweet thoughts of hot dudes reading in the subway. Touch. Chocolate. Kisses on my tongue. Is that a Spanish accent? You look like you stylishly rolled out of bed. That signature coat. It’s probably designer, but I wouldn’t know. My hangover, headache subsides. Too much lemon on my…

Prose: Silent America

Senses are heightened. Look around. Notice. I push the radio off button, roll down the windows and soak up the humidity. A faint cool breeze chills my left shoulder, tickling thoughts of early mornings, Mom driving me to the mill where the yellow school bus waited for me. The air thick with the scent of…

Ruminations: Paris, My Love

I had no idea how long we’d been on the bus, only that I’d fallen asleep somewhere in-between the rolling green peas and our emergence into the City of Light. The boat-lag oscillated between my head and stomach while my eyes opened to a fraction of the enchanted view I’d only previously seen through French…

Prose: Friday 13, Locked, Loaded and Le Tired

Crusty eyes, if I lay here for a little while longer. What time is it? Shit, the clock. That’s it. Framed ax-yielding reflections and another sex joke. Hard to swallow, this head of mine. Walking shoes on. Hoodie zipped. Ear buds in. Gone girl. The rain beat me to it. A few minutes’ reprieve. Buzz…

Prose: Sweet Bitters

I wanted to say something profound, but nothing came out. “Ma’am, would you like to stop police brutality?” Ma’am? “Yes, but not now.” “Not now?! But it has to start now!” Her voice trailed off as I scuffed down St. Mark’s and over to the #6, only to be transported down to Brooklyn Bridge, up,…

Ruminations: It’s Weird

I still don’t know how to describe it. Nana and I keep saying, “it’s weird,” because it is. We finally sold the house. After eight years of being weighed down by the obstacles and the bad memories, and the good memories and the sadness that our family would never be the same, life would never…

Prose: Happy Birthday, Mama

Dear Mamacita Verbena, I woke up early Friday morning, not really because I wanted to. I mean, I did, but not at 4:30am. The cat, Kitty, woke me up meowing like crazy, wanting to go outside. No, I don’t have a cat now. But my friend’s friend does. And that’s where we stayed this weekend….