Monthly Archives: December 2017
On this last day of the year, the post calvin would like to suggest some tunes for your New Year’s Eve festivities. Check out the Spotify playlist here, or just listen to the choice from your favorite writer.
Each of us have chosen a few favorite posts and a handful of honorable mentions. Read on to see what you might have missed this year on the post calvin!
Most people say that I shouldn’t let anything hold me back from doing great things. But I don’t have much desire to do great things. What are great things without the small things?
Shrouded in myth, internship was spoken of in the same way people talk about Voldemort: they act as if it’s taboo, but they all secretly love to spread their anxiety and feel a bit naughty.
The show covers a lot of emotional and psychological ground, but in the midst of watching it through a second time, I’m struck by its representation of physical and emotional vulnerability.
It was classy enough to rise above the dive bar ranks, but not so swanky that you couldn’t waltz in there with sweatpants and flip-flops.
To a large degree, the underlying argument of the Net Neutrality debate can be traced to the basic tenets of the two primary political party systems in the United States: Big Government vs. Small Government.
Why this part of the story? Why is this heavenly exchange, from a narrative full of divine meetings, such a favorite in western Christian art?
Perhaps answers come in the weight. Listen, lean in, linger. There is something here in this suspended scribble.
This year, I’ve been in a kind of retrograde. I’m moving forward, but in some ways, it can appear like I’m moving backward.
I concede that the events of this year have been, on balance, terrible. But if you lift up your head for a moment and try to look forward, lots of good things are happening.
Stefon, I’m genuinely afraid to ask, but what is a human vending machine?
My little bubble of relationships and routines exists for me to serve it with compassion, not for me to overlook it because something more interesting is on the horizon.
Still, having experienced it myself now, I can sympathize with the twinge I’m about to give my many well-meaning English teachers when I divulge this next bit of information.
I’m not totally clear on the distinction between Great Britain, the United Kingdom, and the British Isles.
I wish the employees at the restaurants I frequent would pretend they’ve never seen me before.
The story has been told, but the rest of us are still here: waiting in the middle of the narrative, confronted with Herod’s uncomfortable realization: we aren’t enough.
The scale runs from zero to five cheeses, with five cheeses reigning supreme for the lamest pick up lines and most predictable plots. Warning: contains spoilers.
What are your goals for the coming year? How can your manager support you in meeting these goals?
In a world where fame and infamy
are two sides of the same coin,
who gets to leave a legacy, anyway?
One of the best critiques of our generation is that we are so busy deconstructing things, we stand for nothing.
Eventually you have to look these fears in the face, and you have to sit with the things, both true and false, that you believe about yourself.
A lot of people talk about turning thirty like you’re turning dead.
My daughter will be here at the end of February. I am a mix of emotions.
I am baffled as I listen to TV reporters and NPR correspondents struggle to reconcile their love for someone with the terrible things that person did. We all love people who have done horrible things.
I stood ten feet away from Kate Stables in the front row of an audience that barely totaled twenty people, and yet This Is the Kit wasn’t playing for us. They didn’t even know we were there.
The room was smaller than I expected, square with leaded glass windows and peeling paint, a water-stained chartreuse couch and scattered chairs.
“Oh! Like ‘Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird,’ except with bits of conversation. Without, like, any sort of context or link in between?”
It’s not the kitchen I imagined. In fact, it’s nowhere near the kitchen I imagined.
But there’s no place I’m happier in.
This is why Lady Bird is the perfect holiday movie; ultimately, Lady Bird asks us to reckon with what we’ve been given by our parents and by the places we grew up in.