I thought I wanted a “boyfriend”
December 10, 2007
“Losing site of her objectives, she redoubled her efforts” Truer words have never been plagarized. At some point between loneliness and confusion I realized that I did not want a boyfriend. How could this be? Everybody wants a boyfriend, or partner, or girlfriend or mistress or husband/wife, SOMEONE Read more
ADHD Challenges
December 9, 2007
It is time I convinced my doctor that whining for Ritalin is not drug seeking behavior. Yes, everyone says they’re ADHD or ADD, while in fact they are only nervous, anxious, manic or real happy. My doctor and I have discussed the fact that I cannot make a sandwich, but he still is not convinced. Let’s say I have a jar of mayonaise, slices of turkey, cheese, ham and two slices of bread. A knife. A plate. I do not make the sandwich. I eat the turkey and cheese and ham as is, and eat the bread as is, and sometimes dip a spoon into the mayonaise. All ingredients end up in my stomach at about the same time, so I figure it can coagulate into a sandwich there. Read more
Nurse Casey At Bat
December 8, 2007
I love life! I was planning on performing in D.C. but low and behold I am now a doggie nurse, and my human daughter has the flu! I love this! I feel wanted. Needed. Like I’m doing something constructive for a change. Read more
Pet Land or Pain Land?
December 4, 2007
Thank you, Pet Land for making me understand the workings of a corporate body without scruples. One has to experience first-hand the horror of greed gone wild. This is a photo of my dog’s back after disc surgery. Howard came from Pet Land- Pet Land buys dogs from Puppy Mills. Read more
Motherless Child
December 1, 2007
I was standing on the front lawn in a starched Sunday taffeta, clutching a small purse, rubbing a stiff white patent leather shoe against a mosquito bite. As the afternoon sun drifted behind a maroon cloud, my mother took a photograph. Read more
Bro’ Casey reports from S.F.
December 1, 2007
I’ve lived in SF for over 20 years and for the first 10 I was amazed at the acceptance of any sort of bizarre appearance or behavior. I came to think that, here, you can express yourself freely without any filtering.
I was wrong.
For instance, in SF, it is unacceptable to think bad thoughts - about yourself or other people. Think them if you must – it’s like falling off the wagon - but under NO circumstances do you actually VOICE those thoughts. Then people will know what you’ve been thinking. And God forbid should you ever YELL (unless it’s at an appropriate venue such as a Down with the Man parade). Read more
There is somebody in my house in Vermont. A nice man is renting my house and I am thrilled because that man is renting my house and sending me money so that I can rent an apartment in Providence. Now, wait a minute. Does this make sense? I thought so, a few weeks ago, when I was working here, singing, planning, organizing, hob-knobbing, but as of today, as I lugged a bunch of my crap up two flights of stairs on the East Side, all the while knowing I would have to lug the crap back down the two flights of stairs a few months from now— as of today, I thought to myself, “Gee, I don’t feel very good in my head” I sat on the stairs, dirty stairs, very dirty, and considered my situation. I blamed the town of Bridport , Vermont, for not having a Dunkin Donut’s or a Cafe, a bar or a nightclub, a college, tennis courts, health club, movie theater. Then I blamed myself for wanting those things. Then I blamed myself for having those things here in Providence and not taking advantage of them because I like staying home and reading in bed. Now, if I like staying home and reading in bed, why don’t I just move back to my own home, in Bridport, and wait out the winter with Charles Dickens and Mark Twain? Now that I have rented my house, I miss it. It is not available. That is why I was so sad today, moving into what I thought was a nice apartment on the East Side. It is somebody elses house and always will be, no matter how many knick knacks, rugs, paintings, books, personal items I stuff into it. Renting makes me feel insecure, more insecure than worrying about how to pay my property tax. It’s silly, because none of us own anything fully. Still, sombody is in MY house and i am in somebody else’s house, and it’s ridiculous in a way that I can’t quite comprehend and it is making me very very sad.