If I Were a Mystic
If I were a daughter of the 1200s like Mechtild of Madgeburg, I like to think that I, too, would have visions of and write poems about God.
You’re Okay
No, unfortunately, adulthood doesn’t come with a standardized evaluation mechanism to tell you how you’re doing, but that’s not an excuse to do less.
V for Victory
I was in an honors history class during my junior year of high school. (Did he say…honors??? You bet I did, impressed reader, and I escaped with a C+.)
Rise of the Planet of the Podcast
I call 2014 the rise of podcasts because I believe this is the year that people finally understood what that word meant and took notice.
Learn To Be Light
In a world where we are not free to create and relax at will, we must discipline ourselves so that these dangerous and noble things can be a part of our lives.
The Gays and the Jewish Media
“Homosexuals aren’t people. They’re just like bitches.” — #LightRailRapper
Melancholy Epiphany, Everyone!
I like Eliot’s Magi, poetic license and all. I like that the poem is haunted and melancholy. It’s been almost two weeks since Advent ended—away with the feasting and jollity, already.
The Kindness of Oatmeal
When I first bought rolled oats, I had them plain in hot water, but after cringing through the first several bites, I realized that eating plain oats is like eating your own depression.
Always the Men
Just when I’ve turned to head to the bar, one of the men grabs my arm and says, “Hey, you know who you look like? Like the girl from the Addams’ family!”
Rokovoko
The epigraph is probably the grandparent to the murky boundaries between the content and not-quite-content sandwiched by a book’s front and back covers.
