In my dream I said thank you.

I had a dream and in the dream I said thank you. In the dream Hoppy House was suddenly in Hawaii. Hoppy House is what I call my house. It was in Hawaii, and it was on the beach, and it had more windows than it normally does but in all other ways was the same, and the...

Remembering and not remembering.

The third-worst job I ever had involved a lot of dread. Dread and anxiety and pressure and deadness and agonizing wishing it would end. Maybe not as full-of-dread as the Moroccan mafia toy import company, and maybe not as full-of-deadness as the assembly line. But the...

A brief interview with my blog.

Yes. Yes. And we begin. Me: So, you’re my blog. My blog: Yes. Me: I wish you had a name I could call you. My blog: Okay. Pause. If I think of something I’ll let you know. Me: Isn’t it a little weird that we hang out six times a week and I’ve...

Five small thank yous.

Just seems like a thanking sort of day. Not a 77 Things That Don’t Completely Suck sort of day. Just a thanking day. Thank you to Mr. Pants for saying everything that’s in my head. But that I don’t have the balls to say. Also for coming up with the...
The Fluent Self