thanksgiving with the ex

For Thanksgiving, Django and I are going on a little trip to see his dad’s side of the family. Despite my trying to wriggle out of it, (“This might just make everyone uncomfortable. Maybe it’s time we grow out of this. We’re really fine on our own.”), it’s still going to happen. I’m more or […]

misfits

On Thursday I run into Jeff at the coffee shop. “Hello Delilah,” he mumbles unenthusiastically, from a stool behind the door. Which he didn’t have to do, because I would never have noticed him there. I take it as a reluctant sign that I am supposed to greet him back. Being polite, I do what […]

you’re my only hope

My friend Chloe is a yogini. Aside from being lovely and flexible and hypnotizing me with her long, graceful arms when she wears those billowy-sleeve blouses, this also means she’s all spiritual and stuff. (They’re probably hemp. The blouses. I’m not trying to be catty, but they probably are.) Chloe is married to Ken, who is either […]

lovey, the teen-aged queen

Lovey turns 13 today. For those of you who don’t know who Lovey is, shame on you. You clearly have not been paying enough attention to me or going over the details of my life with the fine tooth comb I provided in the form of a blog. Fine. Let’s review: Who is Lovey? Is she […]

growing up dalston house

Once, in a Proust Questionnaire, I was asked for my greatest accomplishment. “My brother,” I responded quickly, without thinking it through. I could tell by the looks on people’s faces that I’d gotten the answer wrong. I blushed, and it slowly dawned on me that another human being’s existence could probably not be my accomplishment. I mean, […]

earth-born spirits

It is a long weekend and Delilah and her son, Django, are invited to go camping with some other families they loosely know. Delilah wonders at this, only insofar as she recognizes the signs of being taken under the wing of more established others. It is not exclusive to her life with Django, but rather a […]

a season to break me

You still don’t know me. Next time, I’m going to say, “How hard can it be?” over my shoulder, as I’m walking away. But in the meantime, let me give you this. (It’s a magic decoder ring.) Scenario One: You stop by my house. The lawn has not been tended, but there are stripped crayons […]

who we became on the way down

Half of my family was staying on the east coast the summer it all went down. The other half was supposed to meet us there. Not all of them made it. I was eleven. “Stop faking,” Mum demanded, when I came to her about the staggering pain. By that time, I was well aware that […]

seb

I met Sebastian in a summer writing program to which I’d applied as a result of feeling lost again (my standing motivation, it seems, for anything). I hadn’t really expected to get in. “Why do we write?” we were asked, the first day. I found the question generic, and I leaned forward at the table […]