Are you sick of me yet? Do you think I am completely boring, snobby, and awful? Did you realize reading the Nass last week that I fit almost every one of Katie McCulloch’s douchebag criteria? Are you frustrated after going … Read More
I drove by Red Robin the other day. It sits on the corner of La Cumbre Plaza. About everything else in the mall has changed in the ten years since I last set foot in Red Robin, filling up with … Read More
Greenville, Mississippi looks like a town that the Civil Rights movement forgot. Four decades after the Freedom Summer, this “Queen City of the Delta” still has two of just about everything: two McDonalds, two Catholic churches, two sides of town. There are two Kroger grocery stores. The one with the organic milk and fancy cheeses is called the “white Kroger.” The one with the wilted produce and meager selection is called the “black Kroger.”
“and the water felt like crystals” you are saying, buzzing in my ear where the phone is
wedged between shoulder and cheek and
I am barely listening,
lost in myself,
I, however, find myself on that latter side of the argument, in the shunned group of speedwalkers. Until now I had always wondered, faintly bothered, why people rarely talk about how wonderful a fast walk is. I personally enjoy them immensely. The problem was I couldn’t really say why, or convince anyone else, without using reasons I found depressingly mundane for the wonderful act: “it saves time.” “Because I can wake up 10 minutes later that way…”
“We were watching the same lights, inhaling the same air, and waiting for the same New Year to come, wishing the same things for our family and heading towards the same future.”
Daily, we take for granted something revolutionary: we can instantaneously update thousands of people on any information we desire to share. Inherent in that great power, however, is the even greater risk of potential embarrassment, ranging anywhere from awkward tweenage photos to your creepy uncle commenting on every status.
Yeah, I was abroad in London last semester, though I traveled quite a bit, left town most weekends—got around. Amazing. Best semester of my life. And I figured I’d tell a bunch of my stories at once so I don’t … Read More
