After driving in half an hour of traffic we arrived at what looked like an abandoned vet clinic and/or mineshaft. Two giant stone doors opened to reveal an enclosed cement “play area”. This would end up being the location of eighty percent of our camp activities. City camp, it turns out is really just like waiting in line at the DMV. Everyone around you is stuck being there, so you inevitably bond, but no one really wants to be there longer than they have to.Read More Camp Fun N’ Stuff
As a child I used to like to brag about how many injuries I had acquired. Each open wound, scar, allergy, and bump signified notches on my ladder of life accomplishments. As my injury count rose, so did my tier of badassery.Read More Everything Hurts
When my family moved from a quaint mountain town to the big, mean city of Los Angeles, my days of eating wax off the mouths of strangers promptly ended.Read More How To Win Friends & Influence People -Part II
Despite years of bullying as a child, and an inability to match my innerwear to my outerwear, I consider myself a pretty outgoing person. But before embracing my jazz hands approach to life, I hit a few street signs squarely in the face on my long journey to the now.Read More How To Win Friends And Influence People -Part 1
I keep thinking about all those who don’t have families or friends or plants to hang out with this time of year. What does their holiday photo experience look like? There’s that guy sitting alone on one side of a teeter-totter, despondent, possibly crying.Read More A Lonely Person’s Guide To The Holidays
While my traumatic childhood events can’t possibly be any weirder than the next person’s, I feel compelled to share a few of them with you since you’re all just staring at me like that. Also, maybe eat your snacks before reading.Read More They’re All Gonna Laugh At You (Part I)
Let’s discuss the phrase, “shit from shinola”. This is one of those phrases I grew up hearing amidst casual grown-up parent talk. “Forget working with Bob. He doesn’t know shit from shinola.” I’d overhear my dad saying on the phone, as 7-year-old me would be rolling around on the floor, mastering my breakdancing moves. I remember […]Read More Learning To Curse When You’re 8.