My waiter, he asked how old I was in reference to the round of margaritas for the table of guac lovers, and so I replied, “27.” My friends, they turned to me quickly and corrected, “Ash, you are 28.” My years, I have lost them in my foggy brain, forgetting exactly how many moments have [...]
Today, I woke up at 4 a.m. with a fever, that Heat Miser yet Snow Miser feeling of crawling out of your own skin where you trip over everything in the dark just to make it to the bottle of Motrin. I knew right away what was happening: this is my autoimmune body saying, Please, I am [...]
At a recent writing workshop, the author suggested that if you don't want to write about yourself then you simply write about yourself and call it fiction. Apparently it's a common practice of many authors. There once was a girl who discovered at a young age that she was chronically ill. Of course, the idea [...]
A jolly old man jogged past me on Friday morning. “Jolly old man” seems like such an overused expression, but there is just no better way to describe him. His elbows were out wide and he waddled from side-to-side as his stark white hair curled over his stark white sweat headband. And, yes, his stark [...]
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