August 1, 2012


Tap, this thing on?

Ahem. So....spending most of today, August 1, thinking about my best friend, who is so deeply missed, and trying to find a way to honor his memory.

And then it occured to me: Oh! Tobacco Brunette!

No one loved TB like he did.  It seems only right to bring her back - a resurrection of sorts with just maybe the teensiest bit more discretion.

I know most of you have moved on to wordpress and then on again to twitter, tumblr, pinter-insta-what-the-fuck-have-you, but hopefully you'll find your way back here.

I miss you.


January 14, 2011

Oh Frig

Hmmm...I thought that when I ditched my blog after the Mommy Group Discovery, I did so in a way that the blog wasn't actually deleted, but just not published anymore. Like I kinda remember coming back to my dashboard periodically, visiting TB like the grave of a dead, beautiful friend, and eyeing the option to "republish"...

Or some shit like that.

Is it all lost?

Frig, I hope not. I must investigate - in the meantime, if anyone still reads this and can advise...drop me a comment, baby.

September 11, 2010

An Open Letter

Dear TB's Adoring Public,
So. Where to start other than with I FUCKED UP, followed by I MISS YOU.

Without going into the gory details -- because gory details have gotten me into all this trouble -- I told someone in my real life, another writer I'd met who I thought would get and even like TB, that I blogged. So she found me, outed me, and I spent a few days perusing real estate ads in between panic attacks.

TB is gone and I miss her already. She was a good time, no? If only I hadn't been so careless. If only... *sniff*

I hope you'll keep in touch with me. I need to write, but I can't do this anymore so I'm thinking about reviving the fiction 'zine' (yet another tumble further backward into those glory days of mine - the 90s)...if I can find what I did with my old word processor, I'm a do it. If you want in on all the mimeographed glory-to-come email your address to Subscriptions will cost you a flattering comment and a foot rub. Unless you bake. If you bake, send chocolate.

If you're all mukluk-wearing and earthy and think paper belongs on trees, you can wait for the movie.

(Thanks, guys, for all your love and support during the last few years. You certainly got me through some dark days.)