Thrice daily, Cujo Chuggie, my platonic-canine-domestic-partial-life-partner requires my assistance in escorting him down the five steep flights of my tenement apartment building to the gritty sidewalks of my Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood. So he can relieve himself.

With the selflessne… Read full post »

The evening rush hour at the close of another warm day inspired a collective fatigue among the passengers of the crowded train car as we rode from stop to stop in utter silence. A little boy sat patiently with his pretty young mother directly across the aisle from me.… Read full post »

During seasonal bouts of deeply woven religious anxiety, often emanating from the pit of my irritable bowel, I find fleeting comfort toying with the idea of a conversion away from Judaism to a faith with less schmaltz in the traditional community meals. I'm still undecided whether my heretic… Read full post »

At the beginning of this morning's yoga class, while instructed to cradle myself in one of the less demanding contortions known as relaxing fetus, I endured a twenty minute lecture praising the virtues of a raw vegan diet from our anorexic-chic, loose fitting hemp wardrobe wearing substitut… Read full post »

There was a homemade poster board sign featuring a well-known line of educational propaganda that hung prominently on the wall of my first grade classroom. In large hand written sparkly glitter outlined red bubble letters it read, "The only dumb question is the one you don't ask."… Read full post »

An entry from my diary from the winter of 2006

Hypochondria inspire an acute sensitivity to the minutest physical changes taking place within or around my body. The emergence of whiskers on a recently shaved jaw or the drying of nasal mucus is felt with the kind… Read full post »

The Waiting Game

Although sitting around with other mental patients before our respective appointments is technically not group therapy, I could not stand the silence and thought I'd test the water. Posing the question, "so why are you here" to a stranger, whose evident anxiety was further… Read full post »

My fiery libido is wound tightly around a weighty pendulum that beats in tune with my murmured heart. Every so often it scores the surface with its barbed tip, forcing me to seek urgent relief in the Asian hub of Midtown’s informal massage parlor district.

The lounge is… Read full post »

There is a modicum of one to two hours of voyeuristic window watching that I must squeeze into my daily routine if I am ever to achieve full blown agoraphobia. Occasionally, my fellow recluses and I catch each other in this risqué act, which immediately leads to mutual bouts… Read full post »

Shit Quilt

The elderly women of Quilted Northern spend their days and nights lovingly crafting ornate quilts constructed of the world's most fragile paper only to have their precious art eventually soak up the fecal matter of unfamiliar asses.

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