Letter to My Future Child: A Series

Dear Future Child, I’m not sure if you’ll ever read this on here. I’m not sure if this blog will still be around by the time you’re able to read, digest, and understand all the ways that your crazy mother expresses herself. You may ask yourself as your cheeks redden, “Why does my mom have to say this to the whole worldwide audience?” and I’d reply, “Don’t worry, small one, I only have 400 followers.” You may also think, “Mom, this blog and this series is embarrassing,” and I’ll say, “Sorry honey, it’s what I was born to do. And … Continue reading Letter to My Future Child: A Series

Eighteen

I am turning eighteen years old. This is one of those “milestone” birthdays, even though every year you survive another revolution on this earth should be celebrated as a milestone. Eighteen is a big number for a girl who still remembers the outfit she wore to her cousin’s play when she was six years old (my fashion sense in 2004 was remarkable). Eighteen means something. It’s an adult number. I even have to get my license renewed. Compared to the little hill of seventeen, eighteen feels like a mountain. This is the year I graduate high school. This is the … Continue reading Eighteen