One More Day

An old prose piece for today. Enjoy 🙂

One More

Another dream.

Another sunset.

Another me.

I was staring at another me. He was dressed in a suit, had one hand in his pocket, and was looking forward at a full sunset. There was nothing around that was recognizable to me besides the sky. We were on a deck, but there was no water. I figured that I should start the conversation. “So. You’re me?” I said casually. “Yes.” The other me answered back just as casually. “So, do you have something to tell me?” I asked. “Yes.” The other me responded. I waited for him to begin talking, but it was silent. (For convenience’s sake, I’m calling him Fate).

Then I thought, “Can you only answer questions?” “Yes.” Fate responded, smiling. “Okay, so…are you a copy of me or me from the future?” I asked. “Both.” Fate responded. Whoa. This was big. “How far? And can you tell me anything?” I eagerly asked. “A year and a couple months ahead. I can tell you some things, but nothing specific.” Fate answered. I started off with the most important thing, “Girls?” “Too specific.” Fate said, chuckling. “Money?” I asked. “You have at least enough to get by.” “Failures?” “That’ll happen.” “Any pain?” “Yes.” Me and Fate said back and forth.

I almost groaned. This seemed like the biggest opportunity in the world but I wasn’t getting anywhere. I think Fate could sense my frustration, but remained silent. We were at a stalemate. The sunset remained constant, giving the illusion that no time had passed− even though it seemed as if Fate and I had been standing in silence for hours. Finally, I gave into my impatience and asked, “If you can’t tell me anything, why are we talking?” Fate turned his head toward me. His expression was neutral when he said,

“Because sometimes all you need to know about the future is that you’ll make it to another sunset.”

Fate’s words hit me hard. And then I heard a door open. I turned behind me and saw a door that hadn’t been there before. There was a blinding white light on the other side of the door, obscuring my view. I think my time was up. “There’s one thing I’m allowed to tell you.” Fate said. I turned and saw Fate with that same blank expression. “There will be a big opportunity coming up. Make sure you think carefully about taking it or not.” He said. I smiled and said, “Any chance you’ll tell me what I decided?” Fate smiled back and said, “No.”

I went to the doorway but stopped, gripping the door frame. There was one question left. “Who makes your rules, Fate?” I asked. The moment I asked the question, the moon joined the sun in the sky, bringing stars next to clouds. Fate opened his mouth and I expected him to say, “Too specific.” He smiled his biggest smile yet, as he said, “Too obvious.” The white light overpowered everything, blinding me.

Another dream.

Another me.

Another reason to face the light of a new day.


Binge Watch Weekend

In this new feature, I suggest a show to binge watch and give you six reasons to do so. This week:


1. It’s MARVEL

That means high production quality, a deep plot and quirky humor right away.


Fortunately, it is getting less rare for a show to have a strong female lead. But work still needs to be done. Until then, Hayley Atwell is a strong, powerful, female lead that overcomes amazing odds-and kicks ass

3. SET IN THE 40’s

Come on, that’s just cool.


That is an easy, easy watch. You’ll still have time for dinner and drinks later.


i would’ve  Laughed in your face if you told me chad Michael Murray and Shea whigham would be amazing together before this series. Now, I’m shaking your hand.


so the goodness does not end!

Enjoy your Agent Carter weekend!

The Poem With No Name

For this Tuesday, I’m doing a little poetry. Enjoy!

It Will Won’t Will Won’t Be Okay

I have reached the end

Of the earth

I have sailed past the world’s wonders

I have finished all of my work.

Here on the edge

There is darkness to an indefinite depth

Heat from a fire fierce and enduring

And a distinct feeling of death.

My body is ready to fail

To tumble into the pit

Scarred and beaten by the journey

It would only take one more hit.

I feel destined to become dust

Carried away by the wind

Free from the world’s weight

Released from all of my sin.

This is a trial

I am not meant to survive

It is an event

That must be faced with no shield or disguise.

With the last of my courage

I plunge into the flames

Everything becomes ash

The time has come for change.

I fall away from this life

Only to rise

Ascending into a new body

Free from pretension or disguise.

Feeling new and powerful

I return once more to earth

My old self discarded

On this date of my second birth.

The life of a phoenix

Is one of glory and pain

It begins with the view of the light above

It ends with the view of nothing below in flame.

As the cycle begins again

I fly across the sea

The world’s wonders return once more

And I begin to feel free.

The past trails behind me

Burning away in a stream of smoke

All that remains of the old life

Filled with the memories, lessons, and words I spoke.

My life could never continue

If my time never came to an end.

My eyes find the ground

I take a deep breath and descend.

Cop Out

Cop out is defined by urban dictionary as: an excuse designed to shirk responsibility. Real life example: when I was in college way back when (two years ago) I was an RA. For those who don’t know RA’s are basically the
friends/advisors and ironically enough, sorta cops of a particular group of people in a residence hall/dorm.

Part of our responsibilities each month wasto create an “informational board”. It was designed to teach something new to afloor. College related, health related or history related. But, when one gets
tired or busy, creating a board can seem like a daunting task.

That’s wherethe cop-out board comes in.

This beautiful board would pose a question on top, like, “what do you want to be when you grow up? Write it here!” Then the RA leaves a marker. And voila! The board writes (or doesn’t) write itself. It’s a
great time saver for the busy RA.

Now you can’t use these all the time, yourboss would get suspicious. You’ve got to space them out. One every four months or so. Sounds like too much trouble? Well, if you’re gonna cop-out, you should
put your full half effort into it.

In a way, it’s kinda like blogging.

You Should Drink on St. Patty’s Day (Because of History)

Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone! I’m going to keep it short and sweet today because you’re probably on your way to mass…what? You’re on the way to the bar? It’s 10:00 am! Kegs and eggs you say?

^Depicted here in the wild.

In all seriousness, some of you readers or your friends may look towards to this day for some good ole’ fashioned drinking. It’s fairly obvious that this holiday has been “AMERICUH”’-ED. Most people are aware that St. Patrick’s Day has nothing to do with binge drinking…or does it?

A quick wiki search between me and a coworker (hey, everyone deserves a quick break) revealed that St. Patrick’s Day was started to honor…well, it’s in the name. After being kidnapped by pirates (seriously) he joined the priesthood and helped to bring Christianity around Ireland. The day of his death became a catholic feast day. So why don’t we drink on every catholic feast day? Well, it’s not because there are 280 of them.

^What the world would look like.

No, the reason that St. Patrick gets people to raise their shot glasses is all in the timing. As you may or may not know, St Patrick’s Day is right in the middle of lent. Traditionally, things like sex and drinking are banned for lent. So while we may not take it as seriously now, people used to be very, very careful about that sort of thing. Luckily for our ancient college ancestors there was one day where the drinking ban was lifted=St. Patty’s.

So, very technically, St. Patty’s Day is a day where you should take advantage of a drink or two. Unfortunately for traditionalists, in the same way that Christmas is now more about presents than the birth of lil’ baby Jesus, the only thing most people can remember about St Patrick’s Day is to wear green and to be really into green beer for the day.

If you choose to drink your face off today, go ahead. Just remember that it’s, you know, Tuesday. (And the “Hump-day Hangover” is not something that you want to deal with, trust me.) And while you’re at the bar sipping your green tinted keystone, lean over to your neighbor and say, “Hey…drinking is cool with the church and stuff!”

I’m sure they’ll think you’re really cool for knowing that.

A Funny Story

You crack a polite smile as Chadwick heads into the final stretch of his story. Another Friday night ruled by the chronicles of Chadwick.

“…And the thing was, I still had a restraining order against her!” Chadwick finishes, flashing a toothy smile. The crowd erupts into a second peal of laughter. One guy even falls to the floor and starts rolling around like he’s on fire. (Avoid eye contact with him). Chadwick surveys the group and gets ready to launch into another story. But you won’t just sit by this time. You step forward and draw everyone’s attention. All eyes on you. (Except the guy rolling around the floor. No eye contact, remember?) Now all you need is a funny story to tell…

…And I can help with you that.

So whether you want to shove it in Chadwick’s smug face or be the funniest person in the office, here’s a quick guide to making funny stories.

1. Find Something Interesting

Enough already with the weather and sports. Those are okay conversation topics, but you won’t build a reputation on, “Sure is cold out today, huh?”. To start your process, I need you to dig and find an interesting story. It doesn’t matter if it was a serious or funny story. Find something interesting. Got it? Now…

2. Exaggerate! (a little)

There are some extremely gullible people out there. They’re so guilible that they think gullible is actually in the dictionary. But we have to assume that there’s at least one person at the party that can call you out. For example, I tried to make a witty joke about how lightbulbs work. It wasn’t a bright idea :D! Seriously, there was an electrician there and she found the holes in my story. So when you nail down your interesting tale, be ready to exaggerate to make it even more interesting, but not so much that you’re out of your league.

3. Pick a Punchline/Moral

If your interesting story started out serious, you need a moral at the end of the story in order to bring it full circle. Your moral will serve as your punchline. A go-to example for me? I almost failed my driving test by one point. Though incredibly traumatic at the time, it becomes funny to tell people of the little mistakes I made, like not signaling to pull over to the curb or playing Nickelback while driving. In the end, the moral of the story is: silly DMV, you’ll let anyone drive!

If your interesting story started out funny, just work on the punchline. This is where the story is at its best. You’ve been building up the crowd to get to this point, and now you’re going to deliver the final blow. How do you know you’ve built up enough material for the hilarious climax? Use the rule of threes. As an example:

I’ve just been to Vegas. Sin City doesn’t even cover it!
In fact, a lot of people don’t cover anything around there.
And if you think that’s a good thing, just know: a lot of grandmas go to Vegas.

^See? That was a terrible series of jokes, but it can be effective if delivered correctly. Which reminds me:

4. Practice

It may sound stupid to tell you to practice telling stories from your own life, but…you should practice telling stories from your own life. In time, this will become second nature for you. You’ll be spitting out stories faster than you can say Chadwick! So get your stories together, get a tape recorder, and begin. You’ll be funny and interesting before you know it…

“…And that’s why I always carry a butcher’s knife!” You exclaim. Everyone erupts into laughter. The rolling guy hits a wall and passes out quietly. Even Chadwick lets a sly smile show. You survey the crowd with a pleased smile.

Chadwick has no idea what’s coming to him.

I’m Not A Woman

International Women’s Day (which should happen much more often than one day) was just a few days back. In the spirit of the day, I thought I’d share this monologue with you all. Enjoy :).


I’m Not A Woman. I know that may come as a surprise to most of you here, but, I’m not. Yet…by my growing and upbringing, many people seem to have implied that I was. I ran like a girl when I was younger, stop being a sissy girl in the teenage years when I shrank back from birthday punches and when I cried in front of my last girlfriend, she said, “Stop being such a woman.” My ex. She’s fun. Point is, being a woman has become something negative and I’m not sure how we got there.

(quick pause) Why am I speaking to you on a social platform like I have some pull? I work at Walmart. It’s exactly how you think it is. (quick pause) Great! Like yesterday! I was working and I saw a boy, no older than my younger sister, reach for a Barbie doll. Only to have it slapped out of his hand. He squealed. It wasn’t exactly birthday punch, but it still hurt him. Then his father said, “what do you need that for? You’re a boy.” The boy says, and I admire this kids’ courage, which in that moment seemed more than I’d ever have, as he turns to his father and says, “I’m a boy who wants a Barbie.” In the ideal world, the father freezes. A slow clap begins a chorus of applause that radiates from the back of the store to the spot where he’s standing. Male cashiers rain Barbie dolls into his cart saying, “This one’s on us. Thanks for being the boy we couldn’t be.” The kid would be hounded with praise and celebration. The dad would realize the error of his ways and start accepting his son for who he was, not for who he wanted him to be. Never again would he say like a girl, or sissy or woman in negative tones again.

But as in all other places, Walmart is the real world, and as such, his father hit him. Once. Now twice. By the third time I wonder if its punishment or if the dad is hiding something deeper. I go over there to find out. Stupid, right? Getting in the middle of that? But I went. I pull the dad off the kid and say, “Leave him alone, it’s just a Barbie doll.” And he says…nothing. Just punches me. I can still feel it a little. (rubs sore cheek) I got punched for a Barbie doll, and not even for Black Friday. Weird, right? Wrong, right? (Pauses)

I’m not a woman. I can’t imagine how it feels like to be one in a world like this. But let me tell you, if you think that “like a girl” is a stupid insult, you’re not alone. And do me a favor, if you’re ever at Walmart, and you see a dad try to hit his son over a Barbie doll, call security. They make five bucks more. Plus the security women in my store are tough.