Here we are, November 20, 2025, and nearly 2/3 through NAM/NAAM. It’s the middle of the night, and I have nothing to say.
Well, plenty to say, but it takes way too long. I am 2 days behind, though I started several pieces–almost finished. Endings suck; fact checks suck; lost links suck; weird computer tricks suck. Though out of vogue, as someone trained in scholarship, I like things to be right, not what I want to be right. I obviously could not work in the Beltway, which many years ago was my profession of choice. Ultimately, I wanted to be the Ambassador to the Court of St James. I once saw Bobby Kennedy on the steps of the Capitol. A friend walked straight into him on purpose so they could have a 2-word convo–“Excuse me.” The closest I came to my dream job.
All of this NAM/NAAM work cuts into my TDS and Epstein! Epstein! Epstein! time. I need to catch up on General Hospital (who shot Drew?) and Beyond the Gates (when will my man Big Bill figure out Haley is poisoning him?) I’ve fallen off my diet due to writing stress. Last night I had a Sonic double bacon cheeseburger and onion rings, which were much more filling and fulfilling than my diet food. I wake up in the middle of the night with great thoughts, ideas, lines in my head, that disappear as soon as I hit the keyboard. Writing every day about adoption and its adjacents is a killer. And so limiting. I want to jump out the window, but we live in a 1-storey house, and I could only crawl out the window,.If I could get it open
Tonight, I’m doing an open mic at the monthly Say Something gathering at Produce Bar downtown. The next night another open mic at Black Cat Books. I don’t write adoption poetry per se, but I have 4 pieces. One, “Pruning the Family Tree” was published in Tangled Locks, and 2 others sent out to a couple of journals and awaiting their dire judgment. I posted the 4th and newest one here for our annual Hell Month. I think I will read a couple of the poems for the open mics, since I suppose I should do something for NAM/NAAM. I am nothing but dedicated. On Saturday I’m reading my poem My Texas Fantasy at the launch of the Texas Bards Anthology 2025 at the Texas State Museum of Asian Cultures and Education Center. It’s not my best work, but if somebody likes it enough to publish it, I will like it enough to read it.
If anyone here writes poetry, I highly recommend Joseph Fasano You can read his work nearly daily on Facebook. He writes of consequential things in a beautifully intimatel yet accessible way that digs deep into the heart and our personal experiences, unlike the plethora of bougie MFA eftovers that smother the imagination and only look good on a Curriculum Vitae did a workshop with him last week and it opened my mind. Now if I could just scuttle NAM/NAMN and get to work on something I enjoy rather than to dutifully comply with.
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(No, it will never be X!)
Stop Safe Haven Baby Boxes Now
Poke the Bear 2025
Day 20 – 10 days to go!
