By going to a night club for the first time, I finally realized what all those goofy high school functions were trying to coolly emulate. For some reason, loud music, laser-y lights, and an excuse to dress up seems to be the definitive definition of fun once you’re on the other side of fourteen years… Continue reading Out of My Element: Night Club Edition
It’s my blog, so if I want to write posts about imaginary pigs, you can bet I’m going to. For everyone who acts immature on the internet, I’m sure not going to feel self-conscious about acting childish on it. To be fair, Cloven Snowsnout isn’t actually an imaginary pig, he’s just not a real pig.… Continue reading Cloven Snowsnout
The question is not rhetorical. Unfortunately, this is not a nifty life-hacking, uber-crafty, household art kind of blog, and I would actually like to know if anyone has any ideas of what I can use all my old wine corks for. If you’re wondering why I have oodles of wine corks, you’re justified in your… Continue reading What Do I Do With Wine Corks?
Tomorrow is March and March means spring. As a Seattlite, I can’t tell you how excited I am for the prospect of having a committed, loving relationship with the sun instead of these fitful affairs I’ve been having with it all winter. Spring has just always seemed like a good time to repair everything, from… Continue reading Brace Yourself: SPRING IS COMING (Sonnet 74)
21 was a significant number for me yesterday. It was the 21st day of the lunar cycle, 21 days until my boyfriend returns home from England, and my 21st birthday. There’s a lot of pressure to make turning twenty-one really big and exciting, however, when you don’t drink, you have to get creative. Before you… Continue reading 21 Years Sober
My boyfriend, being the absolute charmer that he is, sent me a dozen red roses for Valentines Day. Nobody’s ever given me flowers for Valentines Day before. Someone once gave me an artichoke for Valentines Day, though. While I’ll admit it was delicious, I don’t think it really compares to roses. Anyways, given the evanescence… Continue reading Much Ado About Roses
For the past six years, I’ve written under the penname R.G. Summers. I’ve had many reasons for doing so. Initials are nice because it prevents people from assigning a gender to your writing immediately, something I thought would be valuable as a woman going into science-fiction. Thinking that I would someday get married and change… Continue reading The Artist Formerly Known as R.G. Summers
Bookcases, empty and bare, Stand purposeless, as if in error. Where once the walls were lined with books Now barren shelves attract no looks The dark store, a cavernous lair, A shadowy shell of what was there When we could lose ourselves with care In stories from book-laden nooks, Then fly away. The… Continue reading A Rondel Lamenting the Slow Demise of the Indie Bookstore
Every year I get a little bit more apolitical, disenchanted with the way the media presents issues and the bipartisan bickering that everything seems to boil down to. Still, news stories flash up and I find myself working up into a tiny tizzy over issues that don’t affect me, issues that I could only contribute… Continue reading The Screaming White Noise: Politics on the Internet
If there is one thing I’ve learned in the past year, it’s that keeping secrets from your loved ones is just about the most poisonous thing you can do. It doesn’t matter if it concerns them or not…no matter how little and insignificant they seem, or how little they mean to anybody else, if you… Continue reading If Only We Could Sell Our Secrets
AUDREY GREATHOUSE 