Thursday, October 22, 2015
I recently played Cupid. It didn’t work out so well.
A few weeks ago a friend casually mentioned that he saw a girl performing in an improv show where we take classes, and he thought she was cute. With nothing more to go on than “she has bangs and a darker complexion,” I went to work stalking the hell out of this poor girl. Facebook, Google, improv class email threads; I vowed to find her.
Thursday, October 15, 2015
In seventh grade I was charged with making a mosaic of an Egyptian king for social studies class. Sounds more like art class, but your call, Mrs. Voleri.
I spent the next weekend toiling away with a pair of scissors and a pad of construction paper, carefully arranging and gluing each onto a poster board. By Sunday night, I closely resembled the Hunchback of Notre Dame and my right hand was locked...
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Some of my friends have very simple screening criteria when searching for a significant other: You must have a bed, with a frame, in a place that does not also house your parents.
Futons, mattresses thrown on the floor, a nightly snack drop-off from mother dearest; you’re in your late 20s, people—get your act together.
While some of my counterparts may not know what a fitted sheet is, I want to...
Thursday, September 17, 2015
There’s something that seems to snap in most people after that third lap around a crowded parking lot. The first two times, you’re sitting calmly behind the wheel, confident an open parking space will surely make its presence known.
And then you make that third lap and you start morphing into the Hulk. And by you, I mean my Dad.
It’s always at the worst time, too—some sort of holiday or family...