In Texas, swimming is as much as part of our lives as walking or driving. Especially during the summer months where the state turns into an oven more apropos for cooking slabs of meat than human habitation, we retreat en masse into the cool blue waters of overly-chlorinated pools. It’s simply too hot to do […]Read more "Swimming Lessons"
I don’t handle death well. Not that I have too much experience with it, but the few times I’ve been forced to face it, I don’t feel like I’ve processed it all that well. I was never clued in on how I was supposed to grieve. This whole “human experience” thing should really come with […]Read more "“That’s when you shoplifted.”"
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 […]Read more "When the Leg Breaks"
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 […]Read more "What’s in a Name?"
“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 […]Read more "Eighth Grade"
When I was a freshman in high school, I spent the first half of the school year eating lunch alone. The already awkward transition from junior high to high school was made even more awkward by the fact I wasn’t walking those foreign hallways with a familiar group of friends. I didn’t really care who […]Read more "The Loneliest Place in High School: The Lunch Room"
In my life to date, the “Things I Thought I’d Be Incredible At” list is long and tortured while the “Things I’m Actually Incredible At” list is startling in its brevity. No one’s incredible at everything, even if on the surface it appears that way, and no matter what, there’s something they’re bad at—be it […]Read more "Things I’m [not] Incredible At"