I wrote to the New York Times about my love life.  Enjoy!
​How Do You Know When It's Time to Break Up?

Then: Ten goats, three cows, fine silver, and a nice carpet
Now: One (1) Vitamix

I asked the Universe for a magical Tuesday.  I probably should have been more specific. 

Not what I expected on the back.

Would you like to know how?  I wrote you a poem.

​Seasons can be subtle in San Diego, but if you look closely you may notice the smoothie garnishes change from lemon to fuyu persimmon.

​If this pie tastes good just know that I fixed a tire and cut my finger while making it, so there are at least two secret ingredients.

 I recently scored this personal marquee sign on deep discount. Shopportunity! I thought I could write myself affirmations or inspirational quotes. Turns out, nothing I want to say is simple. Not enough letters, not enough space. Not enough dots to make ellipses— no way to even hint at what is missing, so thoughts hurtle over a jagged edge of unfinished words or devolve almost immediately into nonsense.
But there’s a semicolon. You know, in case I finagle two clauses and need to connect them. This is how it looked before the batteries exploded.