Category: Inexplicable Essay

A Day Filled with Books

I did a lot of reading today. The line-up of library books is reaching ridiculous levels, especially now that I’ve coerced myself into checking out all 22 collections of Fables comics. That’s like, 100+ issues. All because I accidentally checked out volume 22 and therefore had to check out volumes 1-21. These are the dilemmas I create for myself. Syria…

Risky Biznassss

From my experience of attending exactly one live episode, Risk is the kind of podcast you listen to when you’re gripping the razor blade over the bathroom sink and you really need to hear about a person whose life is worse than yours. I mean, maybe there are funny episodes. The manic host fella did tell a gay sex romp…

Bookstore Blues

Once in a great while, I’ll spot a book at Barnes & Noble that appears to be worth picking up and reading right there in the store. Maybe the cover is bright and attractive, maybe the pages are dense with illustration. I’ll admit to reading books by their covers, or at least picking them up for that reason. Most often,…

I’ve Had Some Wine

This bottle of wine has been open for nearly a week, which is a perfectly legitimate excuse for drinking half a bottle of wine on a Tuesday night. Originally, that sentence included “alone,” but I realized that the phrasing implied the bottle itself was lacking company, not me. I’ll clarify – I’m alone. Just me, the glass, the coaster that…

Afternoon in the Apple Orchard

Apple picking is more enjoyable than you might expect for glorified farm labor. Especially when considering the conditions typical to October in Wisconsin: deep in the solemn orchard, clouds dense overhead with barely contained rain pellets, the wind crisper than any apple. I saw a scarecrow in a pumpkin patch slowly draw his grain-stuffed arms tight to his body as…

Let’s Talk About Relish

Tonight I read Relish: My Life in the Kitchen, by Lucy Knisley. I often read books, especially graphic novels, in one sitting or, at the very least, over an evening spent in alternating sitting spots. It’s rare, though, that I complete a story out of sheer reading pleasure as opposed to the horrible hunger of my dark internal engine that…

SWM Seeking a Cause

Watching The Wind That Shakes the Barley, about the Irish fight for independence from the United Kingdom, I feel a sense of something missing from my life. These young men and women are almost rabid in their agitation for Irish independence, practically to the point of foaming at the mouth and biting strangers. They’ve dedicated their lives and souls to…

Desiring Soup

The smell of soup. Good soup, clean soup, the soup of childhood sick days spent at home on the couch watching cartoons. Mom in the kitchen, cleaning, cooking, watching, out of the corner of her eye, her child in unsolicited misery, silent on the sofa. She makes soup. Chicken stock, noodles, carrots diced so finely they may as well be…

Indian Summer

It was hot today. The kind of cantankerous September heat that signals the last days of summer, the burning ember at the bottom of the campfire, flaring up for one last hopeful go at sparking a conflagration. Alas, it’s too late, the seasons are moving on, inevitably, but with all the dull insincerity of a forgetful boyfriend. “Oh, it’s our…