Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

Monica/ May 12, 2016

When the Kentucky Derby horses stormed out of the gates, I threw my neck back to see the whole television screen from under my blue floppy hat. I hadn’t bet real money, I’m not even sure I correctly entered my bid in the play money pool, but I was nervous.

Dark Magic

Monica/ April 24, 2016

I killed Prince.  I also killed Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse, and Robin Williams.  I do not plead the Fifth.  My guilty tell-tale heart confesses. 

Live, Give

Monica/ March 30, 2016

I once needed a liver. My name was never on any official organ transplant waitlist, but I spent years plead-praying for one the way non-spiritual desperate people do when their lives depend on something fully out of their hands. I wasn’t on any official waitlist because the liver was not meant for my body. It should have been surgically placed

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Going with the Flo

Monica/ January 6, 2016

I love Florence + the Machine.  I have no idea if that’s true of everybody or nobody. I don’t even know if an “&” can properly substitute the “+” in the band’s name.  I approach pop culture the way I approach math, science, and life in general: I don’t get it and I don’t want to get it.