For… The poet who wrote their first poem at 30-something, or at five-and-a-half years old The bookworm who has read every piece ever written by John Updike or Charles Bukowski The lover of novels who carefully selects each book after meticulously weighing the options The hoarder of paperback literature The…

I’ve lived and traveled in a motorhome for two-and-half-years. During that time, I’ve seen 27 states and Mexico, and have a bunch more to go. The things that surprised me most though were all in the first six months or so in our travels, from differences to similarities. It was…

For 30 or so years, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was the inspiration for my dream car-house. It only took six months of living in an RV to decide that dream was a sham. In the case you're not familiar with the illustrious movie starring Dick Van Dyke, Chitty Chitty Bang…

I ran down the beige-carpeted hall of my childhood home wearing child-sized pink plastic high heels. It was the day after Christmas, and I was high on sugar and the scent of Barbie rubber and wrapping paper. “I’m a model,” I screamed at my sisters before feeling a slight twist…

When I camped near the Salton Sea, California in 2018, I was in a motorhome and paid the nightly fee of seven or eight dollars each day I stayed. It was the least expensive campground we ever stayed at in California. …

In the movie Hook, there’s a scene in which a crew of adult men playing baseball cheer at a young boy to “Run Home Jack.” They have confused the basic baseball terminology of “Home Run” with Run Home. It was one of those movies that shaped my childhood, and it…

Sometimes to go fast, you need to slow down. Friday afternoon. I had poured a cup of room-temperature coffee into my flower mug- the one with a black dog painted on it that reminds me of my own. …

My parents stopped by on Sunday. The day had just blossomed, the heat burning off some of the thickness that is humidity that had weighed on my shoulders just minutes earlier. …

Navigating Mexico pharmacies with broken Spanish — I laid out a piece of paper that had been folded and unfolded repeatedly, the edges stained from the oil on my hand in my lap. In black ink, I had written a series of pharmaceutical words. In the column next to it were Spanish words in purple ink. I…