Category Archives: Let it out

There Are Some Things I Can’t Forget

Like a conversation with best friend years ago as to when to clean your ears; before or after your shower.

Like when I first started shaving my legs, I asked that same best friend if she shaved her legs in sections (thigh, knee, calf and shin). My mom responded before she could, “Emily, duh.” As if I was already supposed to know.

Like a similar “duh” my mom gave me when I paused her story to ask what a word meant that she kept using.

Like when I was having a birthday sleepover at twelve years old and my high school sister came trampling over us in the middle of the night half talking, half crying on her cell phone, “I don’t know. We were swerving all over the road..”

Like when my boyfriend at the time and his friends led me and my friend up the stairs at a house party. He shut the door on us right before we were about to walk in.

Like when my great aunt told me she felt I was ruining her marriage.

Like when my parents told me my decision to move far away from the midwest was a wrong decision and I began crying in a grocery store buffet lounge.

Like when I was a freshmen out for cross country and I saw two seniors puke their guts out on a Saturday morning practice.

Like a recent Friday afternoon when I walked into the janky office where I worked at the time, told my boss I quit, handed her everything I had been working on, and left.

Like when I lived in Hawaii and got approached at the beach by the most dreamiest of surfer boys.

Like when that same surfer boy told me I brush my teeth wrong.

Like watching my brother and dad play catch in the backyard and I wanted in. I said over here, and got a bloody nose from trying to catch the football.

Like leaving the bar with a dreamy boy I was crushing on, talking with each other as we walked home. He couldn’t take his eyes off me and ran right into a street light.



A Booger That Was Not Picked

I had an interview today. However, I just got a call from the company and they, “decided to pass.”

Am I upset? Yes.

Was it my dream job? No.

So, I ask myself, why am I so upset?

My best answer: I am confused as to what my dream job is. I don’t know what, who, or where I want to dedicate my day to.

Myself? My reading? My researching? My writing? My cooking?

I tell nearly everyone I meet, “going back to school to get a Ph. D is always in the back of my mind.”

So there’s that.

Maybe I am confusing myself. Maybe I am rushing myself.

For now, I will tell myself,  “Goos fra ba.”