Reginald came into my life when I was in high school. His arms flailed around when he danced, he didn’t watch what he said for fear he’d say the wrong things, and if anyone made fun of his voice, a voice that could only be described as Kermit-esque, it never fazed him. I’m fairly certain …
In eighth grade, something in me broke that would affect me for years. Two somethings actually: my tibia and my spirit. A weekend before Thanksgiving, I was running an obstacle course on the primary-colored playground of the local elementary school with my dad and my brother. We’d wandered there together with the intention of spending …
No one wants to go back to middle school. Not a single person, with the possible exception of Billy Gilman, wants to revisit that period of our lives. Nothing went right, everything was unfair and we feel trapped inside our moody, horny, sprouty selves. We kick off adolescence excited we're no longer in elementary school …
"I learned about Y2K in my middle school history class." My friend works at a large university and she sometimes texts me things she hears students say in passing. She and I graduated within a year of each other so our reference points are similar and it’s always entertaining to hear how people a generation …
I'm halfway through being 35 and ever since the calendar turned the page to a new year, I've been thinking a lot about my age. A lot, a lot. Multiple times a day. I'm 35. Fully grown. I’m, like, totally an adult or something. But am I where I’m supposed to be? And to that …
Continue reading "I Don’t Know About You, but I’m (not) Feeling 35"
Ryan Brinson 