In Rome, we shoulder our backpacks. She carries a ukelele strapped to her suitcase; I carry a promise and my leather journal. Together we carry the weight of endeavor, of embarking on the pursuit of the unknown. In Orvieto, I carry memories that I discover, upon arrival, to be staunchly non-transferrable. She carries the wonder
I was in Dublin, and it wasn’t raining. I was in Dublin, and the sky was clear, and the streets were singing their wily song—the melody that ensnares your heart and beguiles your mind and sends you stumbling through an unfamiliar city—and my gut was ruining everything. We had only a week in Europe—a few
Do you ever start to feel like you have a handle on a concept or principle, and then something happens that turns everything you thought you knew on its head and also smacks you in the face? I’ve been reading books and blogs, keeping up with the news, listening to podcasts that broaden my perspective.
There’s always a flurry of activity happening in my brain, but sometimes transferring what I’m thinking onto paper proves unreasonably difficult. I was on a really awesome writing streak for a while. I built up a backlog of blog posts. And then, somehow, the weeks slipped by and when Niki asked me to send her
There is nothing worse than the slow agony of overthinking every decision you ever make. In the past few weeks, everything fell apart. My roommates and I got a 60-day notice to vacate our apartment. The owner wants to gut and strip and repaint and refinish the apartment and then rent it out at a