I went to a poetry reading last night. I saw the old “Maker of Worlds” crew and heard them read poetry.

The featured poet was Rita Mookerjee, a fabulous, LGBTQ+ poet who commanded the space. I’m not usually into hearing a lof of poetry being read, but I could have listened to her all night. The poems were great, and the performance was wonderful.

I didn’t get a chance to read until Jeri, Wendy, and I went out for drinks after, but here are the 2 that were on my phone (so I had them to read). I wrote them in France. Which is why they were on my phone.



That was what the dreams back home were of.

Walking through the shaded glade with friends

The feelings of those nights not long ago

a déjà vu of something not yet seen.


i give my heart as fully as I can

Further than I was but growing on

Flying over roadblocks stumbled through

With each step being closer to my home.




My breakfast is made up of hollowed out things.

An egg

A kiwi

Pomplemousse juice

My enemy’s chest cavity




And scene. Thank you for coming.


The New Schmooze

Well! Apparently, when you work alone in the house all day with 2 dogs and an Adam, and don’t see anyone else, except on a computer, and maybe a once a week date with the neighbor friend, you are in a better place to actually want to talk and network with people! I met a lovely person through Zoom at an audition today, and also I’m wanting to send messages to the lovely people on the Diversity in Audiobooks panel. This is good.

ANNNND I am more inclined to go out and do stuff at night, such as hear poetry at a bookstore, or see a show. And I can’t wait to talk to people at that bookstore! This is unlike me.

Or is it like me, and I just didn’t know because I never had the energy before? I don’t have to get up early. I can mingle till the wee hours. And that’s when all the good mingling happens.

First Day at the New Job

School has ended for now, and I have taken up my position once again in The Disco Booth downstairs.

I have goals, of course I have goals. Here them are:

  1. Be amazing. ✅
  2. Make enough money to cover health insurance.
  3. Make enough money to cover a JCC teacher’s salary.
  4. Make as much money as Adam.
  5. Make as much money as Adam and me at the JCC combined, possibly adjusted for inflation.
  6. Make F.U. money.

I am happy. I am so happy. It feels like I’ve gotten out of jail*–not because teaching is jail; the JCC is a delightful place. Teaching is just not my calling–but because I am free to follow my heart. I don’t I have to squeeze all of my projects into my spare time. And that gives me energy to do other creative things in my spare time.


*Not prison, jail. I’m sure nothing can compare to prison.


I am retired from preschool teaching!!!!! I officially work the gig economy now, and the I’m my own boss jokes haven’t even gotten old yet.

My people sent me off well, with a cool ass tote bag, a cute little plant, pizza, green beans, and a giant tray of mediterranean meat and rice that Bree ordered the other day. We froze it, and it will serve us well in these sparse days of hustling.

And 2 of my kids got me cookies and candy, and a large gift card we will be using to get steak at L Woods one day when the ramen will have become overwhelming.*

Seems to be that when you leave you feel the most appreciated.


Now I’ve got 2 years to Make It before I would have to do the Walk of Shame back to the JCC. Wish me luck. And if you want to send leftovers, we are really going to miss those.


A New Amy**



*Kidding. I’ve been trying to get Adam to cook ramen with me for years.

**A BOSS Amy! Monday I have orientation and sexual harassment training with myself.

Know what I don’t have anymore? A meeting on what to do if a guy with a gun comes in and starts shooting babies.


New review

“OH MY GOODNESS. YOU ARE A GENIUS!!!! THIS IS BETTER THAN I EXPECTED!!! Thank you so much. This is for a script that I’m doing. Will let you hear it when I finish later this summer and I will be in touch with more projects. YOU ARE THE BEST!!!”

-Person on Fiverr

Man, you’ve got some ‘splainin to do

The most incredible thing I’ve ever seen posted on Facebook was a work of comedic genius.

A guy from high school posted an article written by a male doctor on how to clean a vagina.

And he was WRONG.*

My mind was blown. He couldn’t have been serious, right? I mean, here is this inception of males, instructing us on how to take care of our own bodies. I had so many responses to that, I didn’t know where to begin.

I supposed with the benefit of the doubt. This was too good to not be a joke. In which case, it would have been appropriate to say, “Well DONE, Sir! You had me going there! You got me good. This is a work of comic genius, and I salute You, the King of Irony. Thank you for your service.”

But I didn’t actually have such faith in that, and in the responses was nothing to indicate it was anything other than a sincere attempt to…I wanna say…help? And if I was absolutely sure it was serious, I would have said, “You do hear and see yourself, right? Because I’m seeing you, and first off, let me applaud your chutzpah. Second of all, nobody asked you, dude. And finally, vaginas are like my oven: SELF-CLEANING. If you don’t like the state of someone else’s vagina, you are under no obligation to visit one! So grow up, but until then, you can literally go fuck yourself. Love ya mean it!**”

So I wasn’t sure either way. So just to be safe, I said very clearly, “Don’t EVER put soap in your vagina.”

Did I miss an opportunity? Was I vehement enough? Did I keep even a single woman from soaping up her cooter?

I’ll never know.



*Soap. In your vagina. Why are men allowed to be doctors?    #notallmenIknowIknow

**I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have said this last part.

Mary Poppins Comes Back…to Amy

So what she says is always very grumpy, but what she does seems to be the opposite of that. So I suppose if you can ignore her grouchiness, she’s great. I get it. Kids never listen anyway. Except for ZPW in my class. She soaks up everything and is incredible. But she’s not my story to tell.

However, some of the kids (including her) were talking in the fall, and I promised them I’d call them in 20 years to say hi and catch up. So if I am/we’re all still around, stay tuned.

P. L. Travers’ “Mary Poppins”

After watching the movie last Friday (which is always a timeless delight), I read the book last week. I have not read the sequel or seen “Saving Mr. Banks” yet. That in mind, I have some questions:

  1. Why do people like her at all?
  2. Why does she work as a nanny?

Mary Poppins is terrible.* She is not a pleasant person to be around, and she doesn’t seem to like children at all. All she does is scoff and snip at them. Is it some sort of Stockholm Syndrome? And not even the tricks she does redeem her, because they still have to be around her constant mocking and disdain even when they’re having ceiling tea parties, or Christmas shopping, or going on a racist journey around the world. She’s a nightmare lady, and this book is the stuff of future therapy sessions.

Travers was supposedly angry that Julie Andrew’s MP was nicer, but nobody would have seen the movie if she weren’t. I don’t see what the draw is to a horrible, egotistical, snotty nanny, even if she is a star-aged being and a snake’s cousin, and knows all the universe’s cool kids.

The Banks family is delightful. Mary sucks.

Review: a ladle of smiles, a soupçon of discomfort, and a stock pot full of “Why are you like that?!”.


I’ll let you know about the next one.



*More like Mary Poopins, am I right? …no? ok then.

Successfully Zesting

When we take Miri on a walk, which admittedly happens rarely, she marks with urine as dogs do, and Adam calls it zesting. So this morning, I commented that she had successfully zested, and now I want there to be a song with that lyric. I’m opening it to anyone, because when I try to compose it, it just sounds like a jingle*.


*I would be a master jingle writer (a jingler?), if I cared to do so.

Jealousy as a tool


I’m at a lull. I just finished a book and am waiting for the next of 3 in the series, but other than that, I’m auditionless, voice-wise.

I had a lovely therapy last week, learning that feelings, even shitty ones like jealousy, are messages telling you what you need.

So the Audies were last night. And I looked at the winners and WUZ JELLUSS. After I congratulated my longtime friendsister* who won**, I listened to what the jealousy was telling me, and signed up for Narrator’s Roadmap. It is the next step, one I would have liked to have done 2 years ago but wasn’t ready. But now I am.

I respect my process. I do. But sometimes I wish it was*** just a little faster.


*She’s the one who actually got my switch flipped and started me narrating

**And I’m SO PROUD of her!!!!

***Sorry, it’s probably “were” but that just didn’t sound right.