It’s a cold morning in Oregon. I snuggle under the covers with the cat. Pussy (not her real name) purrs…
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Thirty years ago I was young and wild, and so were my ovaries. One sassy egg, not yet adjusted to…
Read More »Like most lesbians coming out in the 1970s, I defied the patriarchy by cutting off my hair. I blossomed during…
Read More »Colonoscopy. The blue sign’s crisp white letters are medical, unflinching. A bold arrow pointing down the gray-carpeted hall leaves no…
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