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Ann Brown
In my head anywhere I go
I am the only person in the Pacific Northwest who doesn't garden or ride a bike. When I left LA my friends said to me, "you are going to hate the constant rain. You won't be able to get out and do anything." Well, HAH. When your hobbies are overeating and reading, the rain really doesn't affect your lifestyle much.
Interests: thinking about shit and making up other shit and talking shit about shit i think about. also, making soup.
Recent Activity
Well. I've just been sprung from Facebook jail. Gimme a minute to take a shower, change outta the orange jumpsuit and pull the cigs I stashed in my vagina. It wasn't my first time in the joint. The first time it happened I was so sad, but that was many incarcerations ago. Facebook jail doesn't scare me anymore. I'm practically a Preferred Visitor. This time I demanded a Kosher meal. Just to fuck with them. I asked for a nice piece fresh fish. And then I sent it back because the smell was iffy. HAH. Zuckerberg can throw me in... Continue reading
In just a few more months, I will be getting Social Security money! Every month! For free! For doing nothing! America, amirite? God, I hate Republicans so fucking much. We'll get back to that in a moment. When I was young and I thought about social security, I envisioned an ancient, arthritic, gnarled, ill-tempered old lady with her bra around her waist and stockings rolled to her knees. Well, say hello to me. Two of my arthritic fingers cannot straighten up without assistance from the other fingers (I tell people it's because I've played guitar for fifty years but it's... Continue reading
Claire and I talk every day. Well, not talk, per se, because we both hate phone calls. We will avoid them at almost any cost. It's really the defining quality of our enduring professional and personal relationship. That, and our love of salt over sugar. Our conversation this morning was about anger. Not at each other, of course, we would NEVER be angry at each other; it was about how sick we both are of people calling for niceness. And understanding. And, God help us, compassion. Yeah. Fuck that shit. If you can read about children being separated from their... Continue reading
Well. Here we are. History has been written. Republicans have betrayed justice, betrayed truth and betrayed the Constitution. When the House voted to impeach, I posted an old joke on FB about a grandma who takes her grandson to the beach and he is swept away by a wave. The grandma pleads with God to return the child to safety. She says, "Please God, I will never ask for anything else. This is all I want - my baby grandson to be safe. Please, I'll never ask for anything more!" A big wave returns the child to shore, safe and... Continue reading
Everybody's talking about love. Well, fuck that shit. I'm gonna talk about hate. Specifically, my hate for Donald Trump. I am not new to hating presidents; I've protested against them, campaigned against them, boo'ed them in person, drew Hitler mustaches on photos of them, and allegedly threw my apple core at one of them as his motorcade passed by although it was never proven no matter what that reactionary Nixon-loving asshole standing next to me told the authorities. But Trump. But Trump. This is a level of vitriol, hate, disgust I have never reached before. When my sister and I... Continue reading
If I put half as much time and emotional truth-digging into my actual writing as I do into answering, "why do you want to unsubscribe to our emails? (optional)", I'd be a successful writer. HAHA. No, I wouldn't. But I'd get a lot more writing done. HAHA. No, I wouldn't. That question they ask when you unsubscribe - "WHY IN THE NAME OF HOLY GOD WOULD YOU WANT TO DO THIS TO US?" (maybe that's just how I read it) - cannot be answered briefly. I cannot ignore it. They want to know. They deserve to know. I'm not going... Continue reading
I probably should leave Facebook. I mean, I would never go to, say, Chik-Fil-A or Home Depot. Our family didn't eat a single grape or head of iceberg lettuce between 1965 and 1971. Not one. I've never crossed a picket line, never voted Republican, never ate Welch's grape jelly, never went to Knott's Berry Farm and I have never, ever, not looked for the union label. I've only had one La Croix soda since recently learning that they are right-wing reactionaries, and that was only because it was at a party and I was so thirsty from all the chips... Continue reading
Hi. So, you know how I'm dead inside, right? I had, however, a momentary breath of life this weekend while flipping through the latest O Magazine at the grocery store. You know how I hate Oprah, right? Well, not hate her as much as reject her notion that we should all live our best lives. Our BEST lives? That sounds exhausting. I live my life at two-thirds, tops. And that's with two cups of strong coffee every morning. Frankly, I don't even believe that Ms. O is living her own best life anymore, unless there is crack in those WW... Continue reading
~A New Song For Yom Kippur (or, what I am doing with my time instead of learning the new music for the High Holydays which start in, like, a minute) They tried to make me go atone But I said, "no, no, no" Yes, I've transgressed But I’ve confessed So now you know, know, know I’m cool with my past, and I get hungry when I fast They tried to make me go atone, but I won't go, go, go I'd rather be at home with a drink Cook you shellfish and a pork sausage link 'Cause there's nothing gonna... Continue reading
Okay, so I will give any of you up to a gajillion dollars if you will break the news to Robin that my new car is a little bit very much flooded on account of that I opened all the windows and the sun roof yesterday afternoon on account of The Very Funky Bad Smell that showed up in my brand new car on account of my driving home from the pool 3 mornings a week in a dripping wet bathing suit on account of the showers at the pool being, basically, marshlands of slime, hair and you-don’t-want-to-know-what, and yesterday... Continue reading
Working on the new book with Claire. 8am, Facebook Messenger. Claire: Are you available to work on the book this morning? 9am, Facebook messenger. Claire: Are you there? 10:20am, FB messenger. Ann: Yes, this is a good time to work. Are you still there? 1:45pm, FB messenger. Claire: Yeah, I'm back. I'm here now. Ann: Great. Meet me at the Google doc. Claire: ok 2pm, Google Doc titled, "the edits" Claire: Hello? Where are you? 2:21, FB messenger. Claire: Hello? Where are you? I'm at the Google doc. Ann: So am I. I don't see you here. Claire: I'm in... Continue reading
Everything is so fucked up everywhere. I am going to live in my head today; raising my teacup elephants in my backyard, rescuing every single dog and cat and elephants and horse in the world that needs rescuing, reuniting every single incarcerated child with their parents and inviting them to live in my house as long as they desire, waving my magic wand and eliminating plastic crap from the rivers and oceans, redistributing resources and wealth and power in this country according to each one's ability and need, and sending the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. And then, after lunch, I... Continue reading
Claire and I are working on a new book. This is how it happened: A few weeks ago, I mentioned to her on FB that since Trump became prez, I have not been able to write anything. This isn't technically true; I've written a few things, but not much. And, truth be told, I didn't write much when Obama was president, either, or Clinton or Carter. My dearth of work is not necessarily tied to Republican administrations. I am simply not a particularly ambitious writer. Or blogger. Or person. I made the statement to Claire because I was bored, just... Continue reading
My radishes are not doing well. Actually, that's not true. I have no idea how they are doing. I don't know What To Expect When You Are Expecting radishes. I really need to read up on them. But Facebook gets in the way. I gotta check it first, you know, to see if I have any new views on the blog. (Spoiler alert: I don't.) And then I read the headlines in the news about the most recent assaults against humanity perpetuated by the Republicans. I note that more humanitarians got arrested for bringing water to thirsty people. Water. Water.... Continue reading
It's been nearly impossible for me to blog since Trump. Nothing is funny enough and nothing is smart enough. Plus, there is so much more important shit for both you and I to do other than reading/writing my blog. There is overeating. And gouging out our eyes after seeing photos of Donald getting a woody over Ivanka. Or sitting in the Oval Office. And I'm not writing today because all of a sudden I am funny again. Or smart. I'm writing because if I don't let it out, I really might die of vitriol poisoning. My hope for young people... Continue reading
I'm thinking about Mary this afternoon. Right about now, she's calling to Joseph to come time her contractions. Joseph is making himself a burrito. "Hold on," he says. Typical. "Hey, asshole," she says, "maybe can you focus on me for one fucking second? I'm having our baby." Beat. And they both laugh. "Good one," he says. Mary does a few short breaths through her next contraction. Not bad. She dots a drop of For Women By Kim Kardashian on her pulse points. "I'll have Joseph get me a new bottle as a push present." She smiles to herself. This is... Continue reading
This very morning back in 167 BCE, ancient Jews arose sleepily from their straw mats and exclaimed, "Fuck. It's already Hanukah? This is bullshit. It was Thanksgiving just last week! We're still finishing the cranberry sauce in the fridge! Stupid lunisolar calendar." And the ancient Jewish mamas jumped on their elephants and rode to McDonalds to get Happy Meals from which they extracted the stupid plastic toys to wrap as gifts for their kids that first night. Because eight fucking gifts. Robin and I don't really celebrate Hanukah now that it's just the two of us in the house. We... Continue reading
The other night, after Thanksgiving dinner, my son suggested we all watch a movie. "Great idea," I said. It's been wonderful having he and his wife here. And now, so cozy, watching a movie together on a rainy night, full with pie, a roaring fire in the fireplace. "It's called, 'The Death of Stalin' ", he said. Wait, what? "It's a really good movie," he said. God, it's exhausting having to pretend to be intellectually curious when my kids come to visit. I really want them to respect me. We read the political articles in The New Yorker, we discuss... Continue reading
Hi, remember me? I haven't blogged much since The Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Election. I've mostly been eating. You know, doing my part. But the other day, after mailing in my ballot for the midterms, I decided I'd check in with you. Because when everything goes to shit and people are so much worse than you could ever believe and the mean fuck in the White House is only the face of the problem, just the tip of the iceberg, and your vote isn't even going to count because of gerrymandering and voter suppression, well, it's time to... Continue reading
Well, it looks like Robin is going to live. And I guess I'm okay with it. Hahaha, I mean, I am very happy about it. I know, I know, about five years ago I blogged about how I thought our marriage was in such great shape because I wished he were dead only about 50% of the time, and everyone got all worked up about my mean sense of humor and my cold heart and blah blah blahbbaty blah. I still stand by my belief that if one is married for 37 years and wishes one's spouse dead only 50%... Continue reading
In the winter of 1965, the year I turned eleven, I turned my back on the Jewish people. My sister and I were bored. Mom said to go for a walk, surely counting on the fact that we wouldn't. But it was the last days of winter break and we had nothing to do, so we put on our sneakers and hit the streets to check out the goings-on in North Hollywood. We walked without talking. Suddenly, Karen stopped dead in her tracks. “Look,” she whispered, and pointed to a long driveway in front of us. I squinted but didn’t... Continue reading
The best Chanukah gift I ever got was when I was twenty-two years old: I was sprung from prison. I was on tour to promote my first album - Jewish folk music that was going to catapult me to the top of the pop charts. I was the girl singer, a last minute replacement for the original singer, who, as I see it now, got out just in the nick of time. Our trio, Serenade, sang in synagogues and Jewish Community Centers, places where the audiences were thrilled to see anyone under the age of ninety singing Jewish music, and... Continue reading
Hello again. It's been a while. I apologize for my long absences and spotty communication. Fucking GOP. They owe me my humor-writing career. And a good night's sleep. And about seven refills of Xanax. They can have the dozen or so pounds I've gained since Inauguration Day. As it turns out, protest marching isn't quite the calorie-burner I had hoped it would be. Particularly when I do most of my marching from my couch. On Facebook. With snacks. Bringing down The Man one Wheat Thin at a time. And I've had nothing to say. The right-wing clusterfuck in DC is... Continue reading
As I approach my 63rd birthday, I feel a need to account for the passing time. But I am coming up blank. It is concerning, and not just a little bit mortifying, I must say. I mean, sixty-three years. You'd think I'd have more to show for it than a blog about myself, five pairs of Dansko clogs, and a new cluster of liver spots on my chest that rivals Gorbachov's head. I should have kept a diary. Although if family photos from 1954 to 1957 are any credible indication, my first major accomplishments were smiling at food, pretending to... Continue reading
I officially put my bra on like an old lady this morning. Sitting on the bed. Hooking the bra. Then stepping into it. Pulling it up. Shaking it all in. God. I have aged, like, fifty years since the election. I should start calculating my age in trumpyears. Fifty to one. I'm 112 since January. And not a spry 112. My current fitness goal is simply to be able to step into my underpants without falling over. I have, so far, achieved very limited success in this endeavor. To see me in silhouette through the curtains - as my neighbors... Continue reading