Michele Catalano

Former music contributor at Forbes, freelance writer published in The Magazine, Maura Magazine and at Boing Boing http://www.michelecat.wordpress.com


i love you. i know.


I know this couple. They have been married long enough to have accumulated children and a complete set of china. They met in college, brought together by the politics and…


High Anxiety

Breathe in, breathe out. That’s my mantra for today, as it is for so many other days. Breathe in, breathe out. It will be ok.

I’m going to a show tonight. Or maybe I’m not going to a show tonight. It all depends on whether or not I can talk myself down from the ledge I am perched on.

I suffer from Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Within that…


i thought i knew it all

Many years ago I wrote an essay containing advice on parenting. My kids were in grade school at the time and I was still navigating the increasingly convoluted maze of motherhood, yet I somehow thought I had it all figured out. I wrote about band-aids and seat belts, about healing hearts as well as cuts. I wrote about a lot of things, and I wrote as if all the advice…


all apologies


I’m sorry.

That’s all I wanted to say. I’m sorry. But sorry is so much more than a word, isn’t it? There’s a history involved, a conflict, a potential resolution. It’s a word with its own baggage, a heavy word that needs to be carried and handed off carefully. So when I say I’m sorry, I’m saying a thousand words.

Publications edited by Michele Catalano

thoughts as essay

Latest Story

comfort meds

one photo. one hundred words. one story.

Latest Story

shipping out

notes from the subway


of statues and infidelity and 99 cents: a valentine story

I ventured to the 99 cent store yesterday. I’m sure you have one of those stores in your area — I’ve never driven through a town that didn’t have at least one. Some of the stores might mark up for inflation (Everything One Dollar!), but it’s the same idea.


George Thorogood and the 36 Year Grudge

I’m not the kind of person to hold grudges. In fact, I’ve only had two in my life and they are both long-held and still in effect. The first one is against Q*bert (It’s ugly. You don’t want to know. It involves a lot of cursing). The other is against George Thorogood. That one, I’ll tell you about.


Maureen

Her name was Maureen and she was, for a time, the only kid in the school more hated than I was. I say this as a simple fact of life, that I was hated. It’s not meant to evoke sympathy or sad looks. It’s meant as a point of refrence.

There was nothing about Maureen that would set her apart from the others, make her seem any different. She didn’t dress weird, she wasn’t…


measured

I was in Bed Bath & Beyond — a mistake on a Saturday afternoon — looking for a frame when I came upon a whole section of framed inspirational quotes. I’ll state right off that I hate inspirational quotes. They almost always make me cringe. But I read every one of these framed instances of pithiness, and I felt an irrational anger building up as I did. I imagined a house filled with…


comfort meds

It was just a short email from Walgreens that set me off. Just a few words. “Unable to submit payment to your insurance carrier.” If I wanted to pay the out of pocket expense for my Abilify, it would be $1027.99. A month.

I immediately called the Walgreens pharmacy. They didn’t have any explanation and told me to call my insurance carrier. While I was on hold…


Breaking in the New Year

I might have cried a little last night as the fireworks went off. The champagne popped, the ball dropped, and as we hugged and kissed and wished each other a happy new year, I was overcome with emotion, with a grand sense of relief. As 2014 turned to 2015, I exhaled long and hard after holding in my breath for so long. With that exhale all the feelings about 2014 left…


Mr. Dillon

I belong to a Facebook group for people who grew up in my hometown. Most of the people are around my age. For the past week or so, the group has been posting class photos from grade school, which led us to talking about the teachers we had. The subject of Mr. Dillon came up, and the ensuing conversation with other people who hated him was enlightening, to say the least.