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
I love writing on things that weren’t meant to be written on — napkins, bridges, decrepit buildings, library books, wet concrete, drunk people’s faces. Some might call it vandalism…and yeah… that’s about right. But it’s also my desire to communicate without actually talking to people, because people are terrifying. I’d much rather leave a frosting…… Continue reading The Story of Glorified Vandalism
“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
On my walk to work, I pass the old Allegheny County Courthouse and Jail, a big stone building with creepers growing up the northern wall. At about shoulder level, there is a rectangle cut in the stone with a patch of brick beneath. I’ve made it my superstition to touch the brick on my way to…… Continue reading Show The World Your Stones But Remember Your Bricks: Euphemism or Metaphor?
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
As always, my New Year’s resolution is, “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” ….but don’t get arrested. Also, “Be fearless in pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.” …but don’t practice arson. I plan to check off the following as the year goes by: Get scuba certified at Uncle Joe’s Scuba.…… Continue reading New Years Resoloos: The Story of Goals N’at
I sound like a whiner, but being short with no upper body strength blows. I’m not about to file for disability or write a memoir called “My Life Being Mistaken For Your Baby Sister” but I feel like ranting. That’s my prerogative and one of the reasons I have a blog. I’ll keep it short. Shortie…… Continue reading The Struggle of Being Smaller Than Most People… and Several Dog Breeds
