When Life Gets Crazy, Make Spaghetti Squash*
My life didn’t become any less crazy after making spaghetti squash, just like it didn’t become any less crazy after eating ramen for lunch four days in a row.
My life didn’t become any less crazy after making spaghetti squash, just like it didn’t become any less crazy after eating ramen for lunch four days in a row.
We were servers, carrying trays of bruschetta between the tables and out onto the veranda where the sun was bright on the Lake and the bare shoulders of the bridesmaids. I was 17.
Alice also warned me that the inmates would shake our hands, wanting contact with the outside world, and when one lone student finally straggled in, he proffered his hand to both of us.
I consider the substitute’s plight to be a paradox of permanence. Our teacher is absent, the students reason, ergo, this person before us now is but a specter—or, at worst, a charlatan… POUNCE!
Somehow I have ended up eating pizza four times in the last six days. One of those was homemade with weird flour. It ended up shaped like a broccoli tree.
Bill Nye worries that students won’t believe in Science because they’re too distracted by God, and Ken Ham worries that students won’t believe in God because they’re too distracted by Science.
After sending something into the world, after selling a couple dozen copies, I know that writing may be an individual act, but it isn’t a solitary one. It requires some very good company.
The series never forgets all the hard work it takes to achieve the freedom that Adolescence of Utena celebrates, and painstakingly details the progressions it takes to achieve liberation.
The potential deposit return on the cascade of empty soda bottles spilling out of the front hall closet is likely sufficient to pay my wife’s bus fare for the next three semesters.
It is impossible to come back from that trip and not feel encouraged by what we saw and heard and encountered: a people standing upright and resolute, and new life filling the cracks.