I’m writing a column on sex/relationships for the Willow Springs blog, Bark. It’s called Disclosures & I’m pretty excited about it. My first essay is about Hump!, an amateur porn festival held here in Portland. I hope you’ll check it out.
Today is the seventeenth day. I didn’t mean to begin counting but after the tenth day, I couldn’t help but notice. It’s been seventeen days since I saw any of my neighbors. In theory, there should be five humans, one for each of the five doors besides ours in this building on the second floor, but of course, it could be more. It might not seem all the strange to you, that I haven’t seen a single soul in the hallway outside of our apartment for seventeen days, but as an unemployed person who spends most of her days going in and out, it’s becoming more and more bizarre. When we first moved in, I saw the man across the hall at least once a day as he was taking his small dog for a walk. He always spoke, or least nodded, and he seemed like a good omen.
I opened with the most important player of this trip — my car, a 2007 Dodge Caliber with a heart of gold. This post was on Bark, the blog of my Creative Writing graduate program. From here on out, look for updates here on Monet to Goes to the Other Shore.