First, I have to address my conservative friends who may not understand why I have not called them, blocked them on Facebook, or otherwise ignored their sympathetic and (sometimes) sincere advances to tell me it’s going to be ok.
I just got back from two months traveling abroad but as I stand here, awaiting my luggage, I have never felt like I was entering a more foreign country. I cannot even process my shame and anger right now. I
Jena and I have just returned from a pretty epic road trip across the western and central parts of the U.S. We were afforded such an opportunity as we just so happen to have ended our employment engagements and
While I won’t go so far as to say I will be blogging again like the old days, I can say I will be writing again. And I plan on using this old site to do it. There will
I want to tell you a story — a story about my dad. It was from him that I first learned about stories, while sitting on my his lap (well I was still too young to even sit up, actually). It
I have been reading posts that my father has been making on his his newly minted blog. They are great, they give me insights into what my dad’s life has been like and I can see him how he