Comparing your success to someone else’s success is a slow descent into hellfire, not unlike doing your laundry. Exclusively when, like me, your washer and dryer are in a deep dark pit beneath the shared apartment you’re renting. I’ve fallen down the steps and blindly fondled cobwebs like it’s my job (note: would be a…… Continue reading The Story of Doubt and Dirty Clothes
I will never understand why some people don’t care to see the rest of the world. I’m not sure if it’s “Earth Live” or seemingly infinite internet access, but I feel like they aren’t seeing things clearly. The world is a dang fantasy novel that you can experience FIRSTHAND, not just from your couch. As someone who…… Continue reading Traveling Riverside Blues: Tips to Travel with Depression
“Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life-sized.” Margaret Atwood I’m pulling for everyone affected in the Manchester attack, and in all acts of violence everywhere, mind you, but I want to take a second to appreciate the resilience of little girls. One would assume that…… Continue reading In The Face of Tragedy, Look to Little Girls
Disease is a creep. It lurks in the corners of our bodies, twiddling its thumbs and stroking its villainous mustache, or without warning, it simply appears — bing-bang-boom, THE PARTY HAS ARRIVED. It seems like when life begins an upward climb, illness breaks in like the weirdo who doesn’t knock before waltzing into the shoddy-locked bathroom. When that happens,…… Continue reading Life’s a Bitch, But It Finds a Way: The Story of Mixed Messages
Do you have songs that make your ribs swing open on a hinge, and pump your heart full of helium? If one of those songs isn’t Teenage Wasteland (yes, nerds, I know it’s actually called Baba O’Riley), then you’re wrong. Now, like any other self-respecting millennial couch potato, the first time I heard TW was…… Continue reading An Ode To Teenage Wasteland
I know the signs of an oncoming panic attack. Heart races, hands shake, vision blurs, chest tightens, temperature fluctuates, and if it’s going to be a particularly bad attack, my arms go numb. If things get really bad, I turn into a giant blueberry. At least, that’s what it feels like. Sometimes it’s best…… Continue reading Panic Attacks and Popcorn Kernels: The Story of Exploding
Let’s just get this out of the way. If a mood ring had fingers, would it wear a mood ring? From there it’s just inception. Like standing between two mirrors. Hey. I’m feeling moody. Maybe it’s a writer thing, but I’m all over the place. I just haven’t been able to write any good fiction…… Continue reading If I Wore a Mood Ring It Would Give Me The Finger
Nothing rings in the new year like faulty plumbing and sewage in the basement. First, the apartment starts to smell of dead animals, but we can’t identify where it’s coming from. Colin showers twice, just in case its him, which is honestly hilarious. Then we check the basement, and OH, look. Lake Shiticaca. This comes after…… Continue reading What’s That Smell? The Story of Sewage in The Basement
As mandated by my dad, there is one rule in my family and that is don’t panic. I think it’s a good rule, but ironic, as we are all freakin’ psychos who panic all the time. For example, the Christmas tree fell on top of me the other night, and I screamed like I was…… Continue reading Rule #1 – Don’t Panic: The Story of Me Breaking Rule #1
For my birthday, I went out to the bar with an empty tin can and asked for donations. Thankfully, I’m the perfect combination of annoying yet endearing, so most people trusted that I planned to use the money for an Animal Rescue League donation, as opposed to a new couch. (I only considered it for a…… Continue reading Birthday Fundraiser: The Story of Sponsoring Juicy
