2014 – March 31 – Rinse and Repeat

The last day of the month brings us to “Rinse and Repeat” by h.l. nelson.


Dear Diary,

This is how I feel lately:

6:02 A.M.: Alarm blares. Abruptly wake. Hit alarm so husband can sleep longer. Stifle urge to hit husband instead. Jump out of bed. Shower. Blow-dry hair. Apply makeup. Put on mom costume. Walk down hall to kids’ rooms. Wake them for school. Same thing, Monday through Friday, August through May. Rinse and repeat. This is your life on motherhood.

In January I wrote: “It’s all quite entertaining on the surface, but one can sense a spring winding tight.” This month we hone in on Joan’s Continue reading

2014 – March 30 – The Blind Date

On the 30th day, we’re reading “The Blind Date” by Joanne Jagoda.


Anne has the twins drop her off a half hour early for her blind date. She can’t stay home another minute. Her stomach has been doing flip-flops all day.

In January I wrote: “Beware the Ides of March, Anne Donaldson, and the weeks after too.” It appears I wasn’t wrong. This month finds Anne preparing to go on the blind date her twin teenagers have been pestering her about.

They didn’t let up last month until she agreed to try the on-line website they found. Anne looked at different profiles but one stood out, … retired patent Continue reading

2014 – March 29 – Winter Weight

It’s the 29th day, and we’re reading “Winter Weight” by Vanessa Wiebler Paris.


The Lunch Ladies are crabby today. Even crabbier than usual, since it’s the end of the fiscal quarter, which means a mandatory Saturday at work.

In January, I noted that Jamie, Slim Jim, had “a tinge of dark in his underdog white.”  This month we see another side of Jamie. He works in a school cafeteria.

At 29, I should be a Young Professional. Instead, I’m the one man among the Lunch Ladies, none under 50. We wear soft-soled comfort shoes that pad slowly through the halls. We all wear oversized clothes – cheap, because we’ll save Continue reading

2014 – March 28 – Reunion

On the 28th day we’re reading “Reunion” by Kimberlee Smith.


My husband Dean hasn’t seen me in months, but I get a feeling he will today. Ever since the snakebite, I’ve developed a constant but slowly intensifying extra sensitivity, a perception as to what might occur in the world. This is something new to me, just since I’ve been gone. When I mean gone, I mean dead.

Last month, I noted that “the retrospective approach may even enhance the concept in that it adds distance, a barrier of sorts, between the living husband and the deceased wife.” This month is more immediate, yet there remains a good bit of retrospective, especially concerning Australia Continue reading

2014 – March 27 – Samford gets a rectal exam

It’s the 27th and time for “Samford gets a rectal exam” by Nathaniel Tower.


Samford is waiting in the office of the proctologist. He is nervous, not because he doesn’t want to be anally probed (he doesn’t want it, but that’s not why he’s nervous), but because he’s worried that this proctologist is some sort of government spy. He is fairly certain that everyone is a government spy.

Last month I finished my review with: “I’m kind of dreading what we’re going to probe then [in March].” Am I a prophet or what? There’s a whole lot of probing going on in this month’s installment. Samford is pretty obsessed over this whole am-I-a-clone Continue reading

2014 – March 26 – Shot

On the 26th day we’re reading “Shot” by Gary Percesepe.


This happened in Saint Louis. I was a graduate student, and a regular at a half dozen bars. I managed to fail my language examination in German, then French, a language I had studied since seventh grade. By this time I was meeting students after class in bars. The students were female, Catholic, and underage. I made $550 a month as a Teaching Assistant. Rent was $225. Jobs in my field were non-existent. What I did next is that I fucked one of my students, then fucked another.

Last month was about the dog.  This month takes us Continue reading

2014 – March 25 – Morganna Malone and the Mystery of the Opium Den

Hey, it’s March 25 and we’re reading “Morgana Malone and the Mystery of the Opium Den” by Matt Potter.


Mary Agnes flicks crust from the edge of her mouth with her finger and sits back into the armchair. Tucking in her triple chin, she looks at me and says, “Doesn’t she, Morgana?”

In the mirror, I see tears welling in Zebadie’s eyes.

(Zebadie’s ex-co-star Virginella Vox pulled out last week, due to a Botox overdose, so I’m the lone bridesmaid now.)

Last month was about penis extenders and re-birthing. This month is more sedate… sort of. It’s all about balance.

There’s no denying Continue reading

2014 – March 24 – Another Man

Today, we’re reading “Another Man” by Teresa Burns Gunther.


A moth, wings wide, rests in the globe of the ceiling light. A quitter. Rachel, on her back in her closet, resolves to clean it. The crisp sleeves of blouses and jackets point down at her from their hangers. Normally cleaning gives her satisfaction, but today she’s stalled out. Her father is coming.

Last month was a bitingly funny escapade with the neighbor’s rabbit. This  month gets serious, but no less biting.

When her doorbell buzzes she jumps. Stella leaps from her bed, barking as she races to the door. “Good girl!” Rachel smooths Stella’s fur standing stiff along her spine. Continue reading

2014 – March 23 – Big Words

It’s March 23, and time for “Big Words” by Darryl Price.


This day does not deserve its own paragraph.

Last month left me longing for some plot movement to go with the beautiful prose and imagery. Does this month deliver? Well, sort of. It’s a really interesting progression we have here, I think, from detached misery to attached misery to this very simple, straightforward avoidance of misery. There’s such a shift in tone and focus this month, that I’m counting it as plot movement (or rather character movement). The narrator is beginning to leave behind the source of his pain, which is forcing him to acknowledge the more chronic Continue reading

2014 – March 22 – Dreaming

Today is the day for “Dreaming” by Margaret Bingel.


Ned is dreaming about the dogs again. Purple and floppy-eared beagles bounding through fields of pure plaid, with a pale clock bleeding from the sky, melting with the solid blocks of ice Ned thinks are clouds. He watches the dogs while they yip and yelp, sniffing each others’ asses and then, recognizing their smell, as they sit on the grass, or at least what Ned is pretty sure is grass.

Last month we were “wondering what March will bring. Will Ned recover? Is that something we want, or dread?” Well, March is here and it’s quite the psychedelic ride.

Ned sits down, running his Continue reading