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Clockwork heart

Clockwork heart

I have a clock work heart. In the morning when I wake up, all the gears tick, spin and whirr. They turn without protest as I swing my feet out of bed and go about my morning routine. Slow and steady, spokes touch spokes, turning the great machine that is my body and brain into a slide-show of normality. I wash my face. (That looks like my mother’s if she were fat.) I brush my teeth. (That are crooked like hers but not like...

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Just give me one moment more.

Just give me one moment more.

My mother. What do I say about my mother? What can I say about her? “She was beautiful.” Of course she was. She was my  mother after all. What child who does not love their mother think their mother is anything but? Even when crows feet begin their slow, inevitable climb at the corners of their eyes. Even when their hair starts to go a little grey at the temples. “She was strong.” Any woman who gives birth to...

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Star Wars: The Old Republic. 2phatgeeks Celebrating the NDA Lift.

Star Wars: The Old Republic. 2phatgeeks Celebrating the NDA Lift.

Since August of this year, Shawn and I have been beta testing possibly–if not the most popular up and coming MMORPG’s–the most talked about: Star Wars: The Old Republic. And the thing is, is other than flailing about the internet squealing and telling people we were in the beta, that was it. We couldn’t tell them what we thought of it, what we liked, what we didn’t, how the game was doing, our reactions or...

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A little crazy is okay.

A little crazy is okay.

I read the other day a post about crazy people making the best bloggers. And I thought they so do. And then I thought but I’m not crazy, in my head in one of those tones.  I heard myself say it in my head (I did, yes, stop staring at me like that) sort of self-assured. Like the notes you would hear from ladies with silver-blue in their hair, bent over afternoon tea on their front porch on a sunny summer day. The two of them...

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If the walls where I got my Mammogram could talk.

If the walls where I got my Mammogram could talk.

Today I had a mammogram. A lot different from my first mammogram at 13 in Canada, where I had lumpy boobs and the Doctor just wanted to make sure it was natural breast development and nothing else. I had to go to a hospital then–down white hallways and across pale chilled floors. I distinctly remember the glaring white of a large hospital room; florescent lights and five or six people–one or two men– in light colored...

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