Pamela Ribon

Tag: Dad

  • SHUT. UP.

    Not you. Me. So, I guess I just wasn’t looking in the right place. Here’s the link to the Austin Chronicle’s Top Ten Austin Websites, in case you want to read what they said about me. I’m feeling much better today. I remembered this nasal spray stuff that my doctor had given me last year…

  • Letters

    a few notes to send out Dear Eric, As much as you love visiting your family, I’m very excited that you are coming home tonight. I wish it weren’t so late. I’m not too familiar with the new airport, so I don’t know if I’ll meet you at the gate or not. I’ll be somewhere…

  • in my defense

    sorry so sloppy Immm-hmmm. Well. Alright. Dear Patrick, It seems that there was a gathering of journallers who all got together to play Cranium because they had heard that I enjoyed the game. I understand that you were one of them. It also seems that you and your friends had an easy time with the…

  • conversations

    i can hear the holidays approaching Let’s see, last night…. yoga, talk to my mom… oh, and about five hours of Resident Evil 3. That’s it. That’s all we’ve been doing. We bought it the night before we went out of town (which means we played the game pretty much until it was time to…

  • quick one

    just to say where i’ve been Just a few minutes to tell you that Squishy is going to be a bit sporadic this week. I started the new job and we moved into our theatre for Polaroid Stories. I’m pretty much going from seven in the morning to almost midnight.

  • the wall

    or why i’m afraid of wallpaper I got the part.  Starting August 1st I will be rehearsing for Polaroid Stories at Hyde Park Theatre, playing one Skinhead Girl. We are going to have a “dialogue” about what my hair will look like.  So, for now, I’ll just keep wearing it long, hoping that I’ll get…

  • self-torture

    through my amazing memory There’s a part of my brain that is sectioned off to remember things that hold absolutely no value for me. For some reason, periodically, since I was a child, I’ll be doing the most mundane thing, and my brain will say to me, “I’m going to remember this moment for the…

  • the name game

    how i became pamie My name was almost Amanda. That’s what my mother wanted to name me.  Amanda.  Well, maybe I would have been called Mandy.  I knew a few Amandas growing up, one of which got the horrible nickname “May-May.”  (I’ve lived in the deep south, as you can see). My father was the…

  • busy

    we’re having spaghetti Late posting– sorry. I’ve been training people all morning.

  • feeling valen-tiny?

    keep calm, i gotcha covered Happy birthday, Dad. Happy birthday, President Lincoln. When I was a kid I thought that since my dad shared a birthday with Lincoln, then somehow I was related. To Lincoln, I mean, I knew I was related to my father. I thought that my people all came from log cabins…