Cheering on a Long-Distance Runner
Every spring, Notre Dame holds a half-marathon called (surprise, surprise) “The Holy Half.”
Every spring, Notre Dame holds a half-marathon called (surprise, surprise) “The Holy Half.”
Here I’m asked to explain it: why we talk so loudly, why we dress so sloppy, why we elected Donald Trump.
The pattern of post-grad life has few intuitive goals. The to-do list is not made for you; life seems more intrinsically aimless.
The friends who kissed early were given the eyebrows at youth group and the girls who hadn’t kissed by college were insecure.
We buried my great-grandmother on Saturday, March 25. She was ninety-six years old.
The timeline suggests Potterville is overdue for another disaster. The Potterville Curse is alive and well.
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.”
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.
“What did I hear you say?”
“I said I was bored.”
We’re nodding our heads, ready to keep walking, and then he opens his mouth to sing.