Tag: Prose

Loren

There is now a kitten residing at This Damn House, and his name is Loren. I told myself I would wait a while before I got a pet. I’ve been wanting one for years, but never was really in a good spot to have one, and then, when I moved

Those are human beings, you assholes.

I have never been great at talking politics. I have never found the right words to soothe pain, to explain cruelty, to reason with those who don’t seek reason. I learned to speak in images, not in outcries, and my arguments only go so far. But I have been pretty

This Damn House

I bought a house today. Those five words seem pretty easy to say, but I’ve been waiting more than eight months to say them. The path to homeownership has had its fair share of turmoil (okay, let’s be fair: every inch of the goddamn way was turmoil), but I’ve finally

Fight! Fight! Fight!

I’ve been practicing how to yell. A friend and I have been working on an improv show that explores relationship issues. It is for sure the most serious improv I have ever attempted, and the same for my scene partner, and boy, does it feel weird. The form involves discovering

Learning To Be Selfish

I don’t know who swore first — me, or my therapist. But the feeling was mutual: there was a point where my awkwardness began to melt away, and more and more I found myself able to be me. I’m not sure if she does this on purpose, but my therapist

Hope Sucks

I don’t get why everyone’s so in love with the concept of hope. Seriously. Everybody’s all like, “Don’t give up hope,” and “Without hope, we’re nothing.” But can we just take a moment to differentiate between the words, want, hope, and fantasy? Want. Noun. A desire for something. Hope. Noun.

A Position of Power

These past few weeks have been a whirlwind, with women and men alike coming forward to name their abusers. It’s been disheartening as an onslaught of celebrity faces parade through our collective attention, but also not surprising. And I think that lack of surprise is what makes it even worse:

Under the Influence

My Grandad was a big drinker. His favorite place to take the family was the Yarmouth House, a nice restaurant where everyone knew Bill Boyne for the legend that he was. He would usually order scotch, and sometimes, he would offer a sip to the grandkids. Sipping your grandfather’s drink

My Best Damn Love Affair To Date

For the past couple months, I’ve been coveting a house on the market. It has an open living room and dining room, and an adorable kitchen. It has a backyard. It has big bedrooms, and a second bathroom. It’s still within walking distance of work. I want it I want

A Really, Really Great Day

I had a peculiar thing happen yesterday: I had a really great day. That sounds like I’m trying to infer that I don’t normally have good days, but yesterday was really great. Harrisburg on the Hunt, a mass treasure hunt experience I created with a friend, had its inaugural hunt,

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