Life

Notes on a neighborhood cafe, and the comforts of getting to have ’the usual.'

This is a story of getting things wrong, and perhaps continuing to get things wrong, but not knowing exactly what to do besides what I’ve come up with. prologue When I lived in Bloomington, IN, some guy spent a week in one of the student neighborhoods attacking women. The one account I read from a victim was that he walked up to her with keys sticking out from between the fingers of his balled fist, slashed her cheek open, and said, “not so pretty now” before running off. ...

Thoughts on my 46th birthday.

Joining Puppet was a huge change for me. I wrote this the day I accepted their offer.