We fall into patterns. Habits. Roles. You're the Helper, the Joker, the Troublemaker, the Listener, the Idiot, the Object of Desire--what more can you think of? Which role is yours? Take a wild guess at my role back in college. Now, I'd like to break out of the Insecure Writer role I've cast myself into, …
Author: mapelba
I'm a writer, artist, teacher, mother, wife, daughter, friend, coffee addict... What else? A success, a failure, a mess, a fan, a hater of housework, a lover of dogs, a liberal, an obsessive, and a bunch of other things that probably would never occur to me. I reveal myself in more ways in my writings and art than in any list of adjectives. And whoever you are, I hope most of all that you are a reader.
Ice Cream and Other Tricks of the Mind
"You have to go to the principal's office," the teacher said. "Take your things. You've a doctor's appointment." "Oh," I said. "I do?" My arm was in a sling and a classmate picked up my books and put them in my bag. I couldn't remember anything about a doctor's appointment. The teacher frowned. "Of course …
All the Best Flaws Are Going Fast!
This video made me feel better. So, what flaws would you like to trade? Let's see... I've got talks too much, obsesses, staph scars, varicose veins, insecurity, bad hair, half of my rib cage is concave instead convex, and a weakness for flattery. Any traders? Anyone? Anyone?
Stomach Turner
"You remind me of Lana Turner's sister," my dad would say to me. "Stomach Turner." "I put your school picture up to keep the roaches away," he said every year. And "If you're lucky, one day you'll be as good-looking as me." Not everyone finds the same joke funny. My friends thought my dad was …
Ask the Right Questions and Get No Answers
"Where were you when Kennedy was shot?" I asked my dad. "What?" he asked. "Everyone always seems to know where they were when Kennedy was shot, so I just thought I'd ask." He shrugged. "I had to work." "What do you mean you had to work?" I asked. "I had to make lunch for 500 …
this because making art is exhausting
and this is on my mind... ...thanks, Louise.
Shaved Heads and Spit
I noticed that the young men all have shaved heads, but I didn't think they had anything to do with me. I was at a red light and they were packed in the car behind me. I checked the rearview mirror to see how my son was doing. He was happy in his carseat, close …
Stories of Dead Girls & Other People You Don’t Want to Be
I called it The Tour of Death. "Six people died in this intersection," she said. "A semi ran the stop sign and killed a car filled with kids." "You remember when we drove by here and there was all that yellow police tape?" she asked a while later. "Man shot his son in the driveway." …
Continue reading Stories of Dead Girls & Other People You Don’t Want to Be
Fake IDs and Boyfriends
"They don't check IDs," C. said when he asked me to meet him at the bar. He was 22. I wasn't far into 18. I didn't tell him I didn't drink and that I'd never been in a bar. I convince my friend S. to go with me. She isn't the type to get flustered …
Is that Dog a Gator or a Catfish?
"Look," Dad says. "I got the gator." I am six. I look out into the lake and see the alligator gliding its way toward the dock. Dad keeps reeling in his line. "We'll cut off its tail and paint it. You can take to school as a dog." "Dad, stop." I tug on his arm. …
Marta Pelrine-Bacon 