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Amy Palleson | Amy Palleson

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Mar.22.2014
And he was beautiful.  So my words were true, and I could still hold myself in high regard.  For not knowing him, yet floating into this family’s hardship through coincidence (as if there is such a thing), landing on this tile floor, hugging this mother—my new friend?—in a...
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Jul.16.2013
I can’t remember what specific event caused me to cancel our cable.  In the dusty recesses, I remember being peeved that it cost so much to rot my brain.   Rotting your brain should be virtually free of charge, I thought.  And a helluva lot more fun.  That’s just basic cost...
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May.27.2013
My mom was the impetus behind A.v.A.—my weed-smoking boyfriend--coming to live with us.  The year was 1987—I was eighteen--and A.v.A. was an injured bird—motherless, practically fatherless, and a senior in high school—so, when his dad finally went MIA, my mom dove into action so as to prevent...
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May.25.2013
I had gotten up at 3 that morning (years ago), so the first time I watched the film “Spirited Away”, I nodded off.  The half-consciousness in which I found myself pulled in selections of sensory input which—when set amongst the film commentary of my fellow home-theater audience members (two 10...
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May.08.2013
A few years ago, I caught a cold that wouldn’t go away.   The runny nose left me dehydrated and exhausted and was accompanied by sneezes so powerful that my eyes would explode like volcanos of hot, mascara’ed saltiness while twin rivers of black gook oozed down my face.     “Are...
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Apr.24.2013
(As a pet sitter, I just felt that I should share what I've learned.) 1.  Try and establish a positive relationship at the outset.  Non-confrontational postures (head tilted down and turned slightly away from the feline), slow movements and calming voices, letting them be the ones to come...
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Apr.21.2013
On September 11, 2001, J. and I were in Reno, Nevada.   J. had a business trip, and my mom and stepdad (from California) agreed to meet us in Reno for a visit if the girls and I drove with J. from Salt Lake to Reno. Courtesy of my sleepless daughters, we were awake early that morning....
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Apr.07.2013
On October 17, 1989, I was unknowingly on a collision course with a lifetime of future regret.  I was riding my bike home from my Clinical Psychology class at UC Davis, looking forward to watching the Bay Bridge World Series Game 3—San Francisco Giants vs. Oakland A’s—on TV with my boyfriend...
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Mar.31.2013
Years ago, I got food poisoning.  Lying on the couch—10 or 11 or 12 a.m..; unsure—the repeating cycle of "I wish I would die" took 20-40 minutes, commencing immediately after I vomited.  Which was the exact point where I would feel better and convince myself that maybe it was over and...
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Mar.31.2013
I can’t tell you what his name is.  Okay.  Well, that’s not entirely true. What I mean is that I shouldn’t tell you what his name is. Or what college he teaches at.  Or what symphony he is a conductor for. Because Google is like truth serum.  And reveals private information...