and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.
–James Joyce/Ulysses

Yes, she breathed in his ear 


So much in life is No. 


You make me feel like yes.

Entirely yes. Yes. 

Again, yes.

Still. Yes. 


On making plans

My relationship with making plans is somewhat tempestuous. While I absolutely love a spontaneous invitation to do something fun, I am also a big fan of having something to look forward to.  I love that anticipation of pleasure. The wondering how it will go. Yes, it is important to live in the moment…and no, I shouldn’t do so much what-iffing…but what-iffing the possibilities when you have plans with someone is part of the fun. 

Often things seem to fall through when I make plans with people, and I am not sure why that is. 

Over the long holiday weekend, I had multiple layers of plans go astray. Which left me sort limbo. Which is exactly the place I least like to be. In fact, if I were a designer, Hell would consist of ironing, pulling weeds and “maybe we should do something this weekend, I’ll let you know on Friday night.” 

Spontaneity is great. Definite plans are even better. The maybes are a killer. 

You might think that all of the anticipation and what-iffing would lead to disappointment. That is only true when the plans fall through. When the planned activity happens, I am never let down. Somehow, everything is better than I expected almost every time. 

Why do you suppose that is?

Obviously, it is because of something about me and also about the people I make plans with. 

Me? Since part of the what iffing includes the direst of possible outcomes, any time my plans work out I am thrilled. I mean,  I was probably assuming there would be a tsunami, so when people actually end up at the beach with me it will be way better than that! Optimistic pessimism is great. 

Most of the credit has to go to my friends and family: the best people on the planet, and also the most fun. It is well documented in my blog. They are huggers, laughers, tongue sticker outers, drink pourers. They are story tellers, football watchers, coffee drinkers, domino players. They are caring, tolerant, compassionate, smart. They are whimsical, prone to hijinks, golf cart racers, food servers. 

They are, without exception, the kind of people who take care of each other and love each other. 

What did I ever do to deserve them? Hell if I know. I show up on time. I kiss everybody.  I bring a lot of booze. I laugh at everyone’s funny stories and cry about the sad ones. Sometimes both at the same time. I post about it all here. It doesn’t really seem like a fair trade. 
You know what time if year it is? It’s the time if year I think about what to do on my vacation…

Who wants to come along?

An imaginary conversation about sight seeing

i can’t believe you’re leaving before I had a chance to show you all of the official sights of my island..

Don’t you think I’ll be back?

You’ll definitely be back. 

Yes, I will. 

But I didn’t even take you to the lighthouse, or to see the bicycle in the tree, or the coffee roasterie or the Sea Monkey Museum. 

We can go to the lighthouse any time and …wait, there’s a Sea Monkey museum? Why was I not informed of this? Is it open on Sunday?

Well, that isn’t quite the reaction  I was expecting…



The King of the Sea Monkeys has a trident, you know. 

I don’t even know where to start..


I’m just going to have to say it. 


There isn’t really a Sea Monkey museum. 

Wait, you lied to me about something this important?

Really? It’s important?


It’s really disconcerting how excited you get about sea monkeys. 

Don’t you remember the ads in comic books? The king of sea monkeys had a crown! And a trident!

I’m really sorry that I started this. I mean, I am really sorry to disappoint you. 

Well, fuck. There needs to be a Sea Monkey Museum. Can we start one?

I am just a little taken aback by the direction this whole conversation has taken right now. 

So, I should stop yelling SEA MONKEYS?

Would you mind?

Not at all. 

Thank you. 

You’re welcome. 

The next time you are here, I will be a better host. 

How could you possibly have been a better host? I mean, aside from lying to me about the Sea Monkey Museum. That was a blow to my level of trust. 


NO. Of course not. 

That’s a relief. 

When can I come back?

Whenever you want. 

Will you get me some sea monkeys?

Do they still sell them?

Yes. I got some on Amazon for a co-worker last year!


She hadn’t ever had any before. It’s a whole story. 

Ah. Everything seems to be a story with you. 

Is that a bad thing?

No, no. I enjoy it. 

We also had a pet house fly named Ruprecht. 

Of course you did. 

That’s also a story. 

I figured as much. 

Let me know if you want to hear it. 

Soon. Right now I am going to make you stop talking. 

How are you going to….ohhhh! Yes.