Another hot, muggy day in the City of Angels; smog so thick my eyes burned. I wiped away another streak of black eyeliner, catching it as it ran down towards my cheek, and I kept walking, keeping time with the jingle bells that hung from the end of[…]

A simple choice, really. Walk to the bottom of the hill, cross the street, and stick out my thumb to hitch south to Hermosa Beach, or keep trudging down the hill with my arm out towards the street, my thumb hooked forward, hoping some poor soul would be[…]

With the events this past week concerning one, Harvey Weinstein, I have decided to repost this piece of memoir. I did not tell anyone about the following events for years. I was sure what happened to me was every bit my fault. I believed in many cases, women got[…]

Playing dress-up with my new hippie  friends was lots of fun and all that, but on the inside I was unraveling. Peace and love, along with rock and roll, just wasn’t cutting it for me.  It all seemed like a counterfeit for something else, something more authentic.  I just[…]

I woke up to the sound of rain on the window.  I had cracked it open before I went to bed and the air filtering into my apartment was damp and smelled sweet.  I turned over and tugged the blanket up over my shoulders, attempting to recapture a[…]

Whenever I tell the story about my marriage at sixteen, I always feel the need to say, “…and I wasn’t even pregnant!”  It still seems as crazy to me that my parents allowed me to get married at sixteen-years-old as it does to those I tell. I get[…]

Despite the various and sundry crimes my fiancé perpetrated on unsuspecting friends and strangers, my parents caved in to the pressure by his parents to allow us to get married.  Apparently, being the more innocent one in the relationship afforded me a certain elevated status in the eyes[…]

One summer day when I was fifteen, I found myself sitting across the kitchen table from a tall, black, big hulk of a guy named Slim, and five, twenty-something white prostitutes lined up on the couch like pieces of fruit left to rot on a weathered windowsill. Slim[…]

(If you would like to start at the beginning of this journey, please go to the archives on the right and start with “It Was A Dark And Stormy Night”). The guy in the turquoise 1956 Chevy was really something!  Dark hair, like my father’s.  Thick lower lip,[…]

My eyes flew open as the searchlight passed by the window for the umpteenth time that night. Sleeping was something you did in between. The room was about 10’ by 10’ with a big thick, double-paned window looking out at nothing.  There was wire mesh in between the[…]