After a month together, the boy was to return to the place where he was from, where the girl could not go. The obvious power imbalance presented itself. It was the girl who suggested that they remember each other fondly, but never contact each other again, unless it was a real emergency. That way there was no way to taint their perfect time ( Read more... )

Poor Johnny from high school, who is still dead after shooting himself in the head after he got caught with weed at school ( Read more... )

I believe that if you are gentle to yourself and open to others, then good things will happen and you will be happy ( Read more... )

In September I am supposed to live an oyster farm in Oregon for a month. I am supposed to turn in the manuscript of my book. I am afraid I might have written two very different books that need to be extracted, like crab meat from it's claws, and maybe I'd have to put the shell back together just to make sure ( Read more... )

Though my most common recurring dream has to do with missing deadlines for student recommendations, I did get so fucked up on New Years Eve that I couldn't see straight until three days later. I've always found it so obnoxious when people with babies get too fucked up at weddings, and now I know, to do it in the privacy of my own home ( Read more... )

Here's something new: I was listening to an Atlantic story about a wrongful killing of a black teenager. I couldn't even listen to the facts, not even to the description of the boy as a boy. It hurt me, and here is where it comes in , as a parent. I couldn't stand it. Of course I've always felt morally affronted, but now I feel knifed, sucker ( Read more... )

Growing older used to feel like such an accomplishment. I remember the moment I enjoyed the taste of green onions. The tentative bite of mushrooms that I didn't want to spit out. I tried bitter melon over and over again, each time aghast that this could be something that adults like. And then one night at an izakaya in Tokyo when I was 23, I picked ( Read more... )

In the end, we turn to drugs. Or rather, right before the end. This, is always true.

I met no one and talked to no one today. I read for a little bit, but not too much. I tried to remember the plot of a novel I loved, but could not. I feel like part of my brain has melted away, and I don't know how to firm it back up again so I could use it.

I ( Read more... )

He iterated marriage like he his designs. In a style that was influenced by Corb, in the modernist school, that he honed in his years at gensler, when all he wanted to do was work from tom mayne. He married a woman who interned with Renzo in Paris, from an earlier school. They knew complimentary programs, they enriched each others references, and ( Read more... )

Saturday morning I was still laying in bed, when I saw it on Twitter, two minutes after NBC posted it, after we've had the news on for what seemed like days, and after we'd just managed to clean up all the dirty dishes left by friends on Tuesday, the night when it seemed like nobody wanted to go home, at one point we just crawled around on the ( Read more... )