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Monthly Archives: March 2017

Life in a Series of Starts and Stops

The pattern of post-grad life has few intuitive goals. The to-do list is not made for you; life seems more intrinsically aimless.

Kiss and Tell

The friends who kissed early were given the eyebrows at youth group and the girls who hadn’t kissed by college were insecure.

Wait for the Lord

We buried my great-grandmother on Saturday, March 25. She was ninety-six years old.

The Potterville Curse

The timeline suggests Potterville is overdue for another disaster. The Potterville Curse is alive and well.

Little Holy Moments

I recently took a picture of a dumpster while scouting a location for work. My coworker ‘s reaction was basically a polite, but baffled acknowledgment: “ah, yes, that is a dumpster.”

A Love Letter to the Cast of Ragtime

I was recently in a local theater production of Ragtime. I’d like to take a moment to thank my fellow cast members for being humans, and for the joy they brought to my life just by existing.

The “B” Word

The “B” Word

by | Mar 23, 2017

“What did I hear you say?”

“I said I was bored.”

Sidewalk Buskers

Sidewalk Buskers

We’re nodding our heads, ready to keep walking, and then he opens his mouth to sing.

Smiley Human Ban Declared Un-Henson-tutional by Yip Yip Court

Smiley Human Ban Declared Un-Henson-tutional by Yip Yip Court

SESAME STREET – Mayor Guy Smiley’s recent housing and business ban has been roundly rejected by the Yip Yip Court this morning on grounds that it unfairly discriminates against humans.

Let the Yarn Spin Madly On

Let the Yarn Spin Madly On

Sometimes I am lulled into a false sense of simplicity.

My Wife is a Saint; Or, A Review of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

My Wife is a Saint; Or, A Review of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

But as much as this story would insist that Link is the star of this latest quest, the real star of the show isn’t a person at all. It’s Hyrule itself.

This Land Is My Land

This Land Is My Land

Two weeks ago, I revisited the City of Magnificent Intentions.

Crossing German streets

Crossing German streets

Life as an expat can be categorized according to two phenomena: experiences that reinforce the expat’s sense of belonging to her heritage and experiences that point to a shift in identity.

Why Karaoke Is Oddly Empowering

Why Karaoke Is Oddly Empowering

Confidence is less like a characteristic trait for me and more like a fluid scale influenced by several external variables that I have a bad habit of internalizing.

The Men I’ve Loved

The Men I’ve Loved

We would say it without worrying about whether or not it came off to anyone within earshot as romantic. As you say it to your family, so we said it to each other.

Last Sunday

Last Sunday

As soon as we walked into West Park Presbyterian Church, we were already in the wrong place.

The Other Side Again

The Other Side Again

And so here I am, standing still in the eye of a hurricane, the confluence of these memories, documents, and moments of déjà vu swirling every which way.

Bad Apples

Bad Apples

Unfortunately, while one “bad” student—disruptive, selfish, rude—could derail an entire semester for an entire class, the opposite is not true.

City Stories: Life on the Road

City Stories: Life on the Road

Stories of travel compel us, she says, because “more reliably than anything else on earth, the road will force you to live in the present.”

Self Deprecation Man

Self Deprecation Man

“I suck at math.” “I’m bad at writing.” “Nobody likes me.” “People don’t get my jokes.” Stop it.

The Theater of Protest

The Theater of Protest

Their shouts of “white power!” were countered by our shouts of “Nazi pigs have got to go!” At the end of the day, nothing really happene

I Read Fun Home in New Orleans

I Read Fun Home in New Orleans

I examine the photos of us together on my phone. “I look like a cartoon character and you look like a Dominatrix. I’d say these fit our personalities pretty well!”

Toxic Masculinity

Toxic Masculinity

In urban, educated America, masculinity is fashionable only with a veneer of irony.

Butt Dust

Butt Dust

…while remembering that we are dust is meant to be striking and a bit uncomfortable, I’m confident that no one wants to remember being “butt dust.”

The Food Struggle

The Food Struggle

No one remembers to send okra a Christmas card, and they usually misspell “okra” anyways. Ocra? Akra? Okrah? Occasionally, someone visits her when they go south for spring break.

If That’s What Writers Are, I’m Not One

If That’s What Writers Are, I’m Not One

But so often the story would rise up and out of me, and I couldn’t find it again. And I wouldn’t really try.

Deaconing

Deaconing

I’m stepping into church council. Humility knows no bounds. What can I reciprocate? I grovel, lying prostrate, prone.

Moving Day

Moving Day

A fan. A spatula. Thirty soft-cover books. A pile of dresses. Yarn. A bottle of balsamic vinegar.