The Bloggy Blogface!

   Deep in the looming catastrophe that is my closet sits a very nice black wool coat. It does not rest on a hangar. It is folded up on the shelf, a slew of unfolded sweaters piled on top of it. It's already February, the thick of winter, and I haven't used it. I didn't use it last year, nor the year before, or the year before that. I can't, really, because I am not allowed to.  The last few years I lived in Manhattan, I experienced the tremendous arc of weather that's almost unlike anywhere else in this country. Summers of what felt like scalding hundred-degree temperatures thanks to the sun bouncing off all of the materials that make up that vertical city. Mild winters packed with wind tunnels and slush puddles splashed around by cab drivers with zero fucks to give. You learn how to dress for the elements rather quickly there.  During the summers in the city, most of your retail stores and bodegas keep their entrances open for the public. Which is strange, be...

  Note to the Chapstick I left under the couch for about a month  Look, it wasn't my fault, so I don't know why you're so upset with me. If anything, it certainly wasn't deliberate. Many factors came into play as to how you wound up staying under there, but I won't get into too much of them for the sake of brevity. You see, many moons ago I fell in love with one of your forefathers. I don't think he was a father per se, but he resembled you. A lot. He might have been a different flavor, however. Needless to say, at first I was hesitant to put him on my lips. There was just something about him, you know? This little tiny stick taking its cap off and rubbing it all around the outside of my mouth - I mean who does that? It's kind of rude. But soon I found out that it was not rude, and very much necessary. He was a blessing in disguise, especially after brushing my teeth. Our relationship blossomed. Soon I was using him multiple times a day. It felt di...

January 1995: I was about to begin my second semester at a community college in Troy, New York. My grades the fall semester were fairly decent, and I was looking forward to taking some classes outside of my comfort zone - namely, creative writing and biology. Biology because I was absolutely horrific with the sciences in high school. Whether or not I even bothered to try in high school is always up for debate, but I can tell you for a fact I did not try with biology because I hated it, and not due to typical teen malaise. Years prior to this class, I ventured on a field trip. One of the chaperones for this trip had a googly looking eye, and I kept making fun of it. Little did I know that she was behind me a few of those moments I pointed it out to others. She said nothing then, but likely digested every insult I uttered that trip.    Fast forward to my senior year of high school. AP Biology - this lady is now my teacher. How I managed to make it through her class without e...

 A letter to my older doppelganger self spotted at a very large department store Hello,      This may come off as rather bizarre, but I know who you are and why you are here tonight. Creepy, I know - but please allow me to explain. You are quite possibly some thirty years my senior, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. You see, you are me in the future. In shape (hopefully), shopping alone, and sporting that increasingly irritated look on your face. I couldn't help but notice your sheer disdain of even being at this behemoth repository on such a wild evening. I'm sure your wife sent you here on your own to get some items for her, and for some reason you begrudgingly accepted the task. It's raining like a motherfucker outside, no? I had to park hundreds of yards away myself, since all the lazy asses here hogged all the spots near the building. I made it inside without anyone splooshing big puddles on me, and it looks like you were able to keep dr...

     For lunch today, I had a Thai peanut chicken bagel sandwich. Had being a choice word, as I was barely able to keep the bagel together and enjoy it in its entirety. The ingredients kept slipping out, in addition to the bagel itself being poorly cut in half. I powered through most of it like a champion, and that's of utmost importance. I am not a fan of sloppy sandwiches, so it's unlikely I'll be enjoying this again anytime soon. On the side was a little container of peanut sauce, where you could either drizzle onto the bagel or simply dunk it down. It made for quite the delicacy, and I was looking forward to using the sauce more and more as the sandwich became less and less. But soon that joy was gone.  I feel a strong sense of sorrow for those who have a peanut allergy. I mean I really feel bad for them. Imagine going through life never able to have Reese's products. Never able to enjoy PB & J. It's dreadful, because peanuts are awesome. Peanut bu...

Welcome to America, ebola! Glad to have you. Well, alright, we're probably not that glad to have you. But that's okay. The awkwardness will wear itself out soon enough. So, what brings you to America? Really? You don't say? Well, that is really terrible. Oh wow. I didn't know that. Well, it seems like you might not be too popular with the townsfolk there, so maybe it's a good thing you left. Or maybe you haven't left there, it seems. Looks like you've been coming over here from time to time. Great. Um..sure. Well, uh, maybe you should just have a seat way over there for a bit. And don't spit on me, please. Does anyone have a hazmat suit I can borrow? Anyway, I thought you'd like to know just how much we love you here, we really do. It may not seem like it, but we care deeply. We want to understand you better, learn what makes you tick, and maybe develop better medicine to..well, fight you. Fight? Sorry, that's too negative. To... work with y...

        Last week, with just a few short clicks, I put to rest (or likely, a Rip Van Winkle-esque nap) my internet version of an ankle monitor. I've tried this plenty of times before, so I am not putting much stock into it for the time being. The URL still rests in the drop down menu, Google magically filling in what it thinks I must be looking for whenever I type anything with an "f" or the word "book." Chrome auto-fill settings can be such a manipulative little bitch. Come on, it's right here, ready for you.  No. Not any time soon.  There were events that led up to this unhinging. For starters, a long time ago I disabled commenting. For some reason, this upset a great deal of people. Birthdays would pass and people would get very angry because they couldn't write on my wall. Okay then. Noted. Interestingly enough, once I removed my date of birth from my profile, the happy birthday notifications died down considerably.  Another action I...