Not every experience survives translation into meaning.
Category Archives: Illinois
In a happy marriage of Star Wars and Friedrich Nietzsche: the abyss strikes back.
We call this tradition—because why wouldn’t we—our “Filling Out of the Carle Foundation Hospital’s Application for Financial Assistance Christmas Tradition,” or FOCFHAFACT, for short.
The word alderman has Anglo-Saxon origins: a noble (serving the king) as ruler of a local district. Quite literally it means “old man.”
While at home, I went on a walk, remembering how, after a long rain, the air would smell like cupcakes or Cheerios as the fumes from General Mills wafted over the trees and rooftops.
Turning out in droves despite rain and wind and snow, we marched and chanted and beat on bucket-drums and blew on whistles and papered the campus with fliers. We disrupted classes. We shut down buildings.
Jesse will be your second Tinder date, and your last.
I do not want to strike. No one wants a strike. But if it comes to it, Jes and I will be on the picket line February 26, bright and early, because at that point we will have no other choice.
And I realized these are the first things: not medals or adventures, but the cinch of laces around a foot and reliable slide of mud and bitter perfume of sweat rising like smoke off shoulders.
If nothing else then, the Illinois Regional College Fair confirmed for me what I already knew: I would make a terrible salesperson.