Tag Archives: uncomfortable

Third Thursday

Posted on June 8, 2014 by GirlZoot

He came to dinner every third Thursday. Tonight he’d brought a lovely white wine to go with the fish dish she’d emailed about on the e-vite. He sat in the car and watched her window. She was home, had been … Continue reading →

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Just a Thought

Posted on October 31, 2012 by GirlZoot

Tengo pictured it. A gaggle of sunburned men, uncomfortable in their dark suits, puffing away, mourning a man who had died of lung cancer. —Haruki Murakami/1Q84

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Picking a Font

Posted on September 10, 2012 by GirlZoot

I got hit on the other day at the Denver Art Museum. I don’t really know what to do with this information other than to say it out loud and to be a little weirded out by it. I was … Continue reading →

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The Descendants

Posted on July 2, 2012 by GirlZoot
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What Am I Doing Here?

Posted on April 3, 2011 by GirlZoot

I find myself at a birthday party. Not a big deal, but it is at the end of a weekend full of thinking, and that is never a good thing. All I can do lately is look at people and … Continue reading →

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Poki Says Hello

Posted on January 14, 2011 by GirlZoot

There are times in life when you find yourself in a room with people that you know, you know and that you really care about and yet you feel unbelievably uncomfortable. I am not even sure why I feel uncomfortable … Continue reading →

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The Darjeeling Limited

Posted on August 4, 2007 by GirlZoot

I can’t decide if I love Wes Anderson, or if his films make me incredibly uncomfortable. I think a little bit of both.

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Just a Thought

Posted on February 22, 2005 by GirlZoot

America. Just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable. —Hunter S. Thompson

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Wrap Party

Posted on October 30, 2004 by GirlZoot

Last night I went to a party with friends. The party was filled with the movers and shakers of the Denver film industry. All over the immensely lovely home was art. On the walls, in the corners, on display there … Continue reading →

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