Category: my life

I am a snowflake

I am a snowflake

Right now I’m watching a snow storm blow and swirl and gust outside my window, a day later than expected, but still here, still covering the frozen ground in white, filling the air, turning everything monochromatic. And it is beautiful. Conservatives like to call people like me (young, liberal, well-educated) “snowflakes,” because we are “overly...

Honk honk: 2016 wrap up edition

Honk honk: 2016 wrap up edition

On the whole, 2016 was a shit year with a few bright spots. Here are some of those bright spots, specifically related to writing (though I’ll write another post about all the wonderfully bright people I had the pleasure of spending time with in 2016). Permafrost, a fine literary journal that published my short story...

Learning to Grieve

Learning to Grieve

This year, I learned to grieve, or at least to grieve more fully. I learned to sit with my sadness in the red glow of sunrise. To touch the abyss that split me open again and again and again, to allow myself to be swallowed, and to come back to the world, eventually—changed certainly, but...

Being 30

Being 30

Three is a lucky number. Thirty is ten threes. Ten threes may not be as lucky as nine threes or even six or three threes, but still. It’s lucky. I used to dread turning 30, but then I turned 27. 28. 29. Time creeps forward, whether we’re paying attention or not. So I choose to...

My dogs are not my children

My dogs are not my children

Lately I’ve been thinking about metaphors. Specifically metaphors like, “My pets are my children,” or “My writing is my baby.” I can understand, almost, why people use these metaphors. Having children is a monumental step that reorders your entire life. Your world basically revolves around your children, because they need you to survive. Plus, they...