That was about 700,800 minutes ago. Rent is my favorite musical of all time and this particular song: "525600 minutes...how do you measure a year?" rings true for me tonight more than ever as I write my fourth essay of the year. I've written several variations of #4thessay but somehow this one feels right to outdoor. How do I measure 700, 800 minutes?
What is it that makes people unable to or unwilling to part from a coupledom if only for one night? I think to myself this morning. Maybe that's why I'm still single and for the most part I'm happiest living alone to come and go as I please without seeking another's permission to spend a night with a bff or my sister.
When you are sitting in your car and contemplating whether you have the ovaries to show up at a Food Pantry, you know things are really bad. Why do I need ovaries, you ask? Because for some of us, pride stands in the way of hunger. And worse yet, I am a chef. I don't … Continue reading #52essays: Where It’s At
2017 ended a week ago. We are a week into 2018. I have been avoiding writing like the plague. I have not blogged in months, and every time I contemplated it or even showed up to the page, I found lots of excuses and reasons why I shouldn't, needn't, couldn't write, but tonight something shifted. … Continue reading #52essays lit a fire under my proverbial B