Three years ago, my man and I went to Japan for ten days to visit Tokyo and Kyoto with a total understanding of one Japanese word between us: arigato. We’d heard that visiting Japan in the fall is great, after the rainy season there would be lots of foliage and moderate temperatures. While it was…
Nine years ago today, I was contemplating whether or not to meet up with the brother of an old acquaintance on a blind date at a bad Mexican restaurant. 2011 thus far had been monumental. Early in the year, I finished my yoga teacher training and volunteered in Brazil. In the spring, I was on…
Once when I was in the fifth grade, I was a complete asshole – by accident. In the way many soon-to-be middle schoolers (and youngest of five children) can behave, I am sometimes obnoxious and attention seeking. Generally, I try to stay out of my parent’s hair and spend as much time outside as possible. …
When I think about the original intent of this 50 Stories project, a sort of reverse bucket list, I realize that many of my most memorable moments would not have been possible without the love and support of my girlfriends. I only wish I’d had this wisdom early on. When I was little, I was…
Read more 50 Stories, Week 27: To All The Girls I’ve Loved Before, Part 1
Over the course of my career, I would occasionally have to spend a week in the south of France for a conference. ‘Having’ to spend your days overlooking the Mediterranean and socializing with colleagues from around the world could be seen as a sacrifice, I imagine. Working around the clock for a solid week –…
The first time I volunteered abroad, I was just shy of my 41st birthday. I was feeling stuck in my advertising career, nursing a mediocre long-distance relationship, and tired of living in cost-prohibitive San Francisco. I’d recently completed a yoga teacher training after 20+ years of practice to kick start the next chapter of my…
Twenty years ago, I wanted to apply to graduate school. I wanted to study art or writing or psychology, anything that let me continue exploring the inner struggles of humanity. It seemed as good a time as any since my Dad was newly dead, I’d recently left my son’s father, and I was turning 30.…
TW: Sexual Assault. About a year after I moved to California, I was working at the Marriott in downtown San Diego, waiting tables during the week while I attended classes at City College. Most of the people I worked with were also students with the occasional lifelong cook or bartender mixed in. One of the…
“Mom, don’t freak out but…” Over the years, I have come to appreciate this effort Jackson makes to calm me before delivering bad news. “…I fell. And I think it’s bad. There’s a woman here who is a nurse and said I need to go to the ER. Where are you?” Less than five minutes…
It is the fall of 2000… after I say no to Richard’s offer of marriage and move out, after my father dies of a heart attack slash esophageal cancer, after I struggle with multiple jobs and roommates and unavailable men, after I move back into Richard’s newly purchased apartment building to live right below him……
