This past week, a wonderful man left this world. His paternal presence was a safe harbor and home in this season of my life. I don’t leave myself much room to daydream these days but I had such a strong wish for you to meet him and grow up with…

I want to sit on your porch with you again. Maybe its not even your porch anymore… I want to sit with you and cry about the sharp edges of adulthood. You aren’t my dad. …

And how we’re asking for it. — I want to start a blog and a lot of the times I struggle to think of who I would become. Not because I don’t see the thrill of being on the map and incredibly well-received, that certain sort of pressure is fascinating and something I’d obviously explore. But to…

I like to cry. Since becoming pregnant, I’ve jokingly referred to my bouts of tears as prego moments — “I’ve got a prego moment coming on” I say to my boyfriend, as if it’s a sneeze — inevitable and inconvenient. …

I’m older, wiser, more logical, less narcassistic and also feeling less inspired to write but still think its a good idea and still love run on sentences. I used to write because it helped me close the loop — put a pretty bow on an idea I had and make…

There is this part-time job. You won’t get paid and you’ve got to work everyday but it’s got benefits, you have a lot independence and the hours are flexible. The job is developing yourself outside of your work. Whether you love work or hate it, you aren’t just it. Or…