I make a lot of eggs on Saturday mornings.  I feed the multitudes like Jesus. But I don’t make fish. I don’t have a magic basket that keeps popping up with the fishes. And no one will build a church in my honor. Continue reading


Jill yearned to sell everything and live full-time in a motorhome. For her, there existed no stronger pull than the allure of going right to the precipice of civilization and then continuing over without even slowing down. Falling into the unknown, knowing only that it’s the surest way to know you’re fucked. The sultry mix of gas fumes, septic aromas, and barely chilled vegetables rotting in an overworked traveling refrigerator combined to form an irresistible fragrance that marked a life on the move. To pack all of our belongings and hit the open road in search of deep, irreplaceable memories full of irreparable emotional traumas, that was a call she could not silence and her heart refused to ignore. Continue reading


The first day of school photos have circulated on Facebook. Now the leaves will begin to fall. Soon, memes bemoaning the drop off lines will fill feeds throughout the Internet. And a new school year will have officially begun.

But not for us.

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My New Uncle

This post goes too far. A superior edit of it first appeared on In The Powder Room and being a little bit removed provided some cover. But now I’m including it on this blog and it may be too much for those who know me.

In fact, if you’re: my mom, my mother-in-law, Kirsten, Cristina, anyone who works with me, Brian, Jennie, Maggie, Claudio, anyone I’ve ever gone to school with, anyone who is friends with me on Facebook, residents of Chicago and Indiana and the United States, English speakers, and non-English speakers, then you must skip this post.  Here, read about the time I stole some doughnuts.

To anyone who is still cleared to read: just promise me we will never meet in real life after you’re done reading. Because I won’t be able to make eye contact.

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I’ll admit it. Before, I may have been a bit of an alarmist. Before, I think I jumped the gun. Before, I didn’t know the range on Monotone Joe’s spectrum of paranoia. Before, I had no idea how loosely held together he is.

Then I came home and found my neighbor, Monotone Joe, in my mulberry. Continue reading

An open letter to those who live outside the U.S. and may have seen Girl Meets World

Dear person who lives outside the U.S. and may have seen Girl Meets World,

There are a few things I need to say to you right now: Continue reading