This is (hopefully) the final installment of the Push series. Maybe it’s time for pulling? Pause. Why at 3am on a Saturday of a week where I’ve been burning at both ends on four to five hours of sleep each day? Because my creativity likes to say “fuck you” to common sense. Let’s write a two-thousand…… Continue reading I’ve pushed enough. Let’s wrap this shit up.
When I was in middle school, age 12 or 13, I took one of those aptitude assessments that’s supposed to tell you what you want to do for the rest of your life. I found the actual sheet a few years back — since my mother was a notorious pack rat, and hell she was…… Continue reading I’m Going Back to School
It can be years — hell, it can be decades — since last hearing a song, but the music and lyrics come back to me, and it floods my mind with memories of when and where I’ve heard it before. I accredit this to my mother, who always had music playing while I was growing up. In…… Continue reading Learning to Love Some Music Again
My aunt, Joette, took me to a lot of movies growing up, and there’s a bunch that really stand out to me. Masters of the Universe, Batman, An American Tail: Fievel Goes West, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Hook, Batman Returns… All of these movies have external memories and feelings attached to them that make those viewings significant to me.…… Continue reading I am so hyped up for Jurassic World.
To claim that I despise my birthday is a misnomer; I’m actually quite grateful that my parents had sex, that zygote me was formed and gestated nearly successfully, and that Dr. Jacobs was able to facilitate an emergency c-section at Albany Med to get me out of Ma, and give my heart its first few pumps when my…… Continue reading Contrary to popular belief, I don’t “hate” my birthday.