I once went to second base with a stranger on a plane. He was my seatmate on the red-eye from Los Angeles to New York. We never spoke or exchanged names. We never even said hello.
I have understood I’m dying since becoming conscious of being alive. I’m not the least bit morbid. I would not consider myself a nihilist. On the contrary. This understanding — this very visceral consciousness — that life is short, truly brief, a gift, a mystery, and that each day I live is one day less I have on Earth, has made me profoundly grateful, happy, satisfied, clear, motivated, purposeful, and present. Read more
I haven’t posted a photo from the The 3 a.m. Project in a while. So here are a few recent ones. From tonight, and the past few days. I look at these photos and think to myself…how is this person 50 fucking years old??? BTW, I’m 46 or 47…I can’t remember which, because I always lie up. So now I’m not sure what age I am anymore, and I’m too lazy to do the math. Read more
So my gay husband, and friend, Matt is helping me with a project, which he thought would be enhanced by me answering the following 25 questions. Since I hate this kind of thing, and am completely lazy about writing (brain faster than hands), I can never get this kind of thing done, which is why there’s a paucity of blog posts, not to mention my hopelessly outdated CV that I’ve sworn I’d update each weekend for the past year. Best intentions… Read more