Chapter X: The progression of the day had brought us together, our legs touching as I argued with myself whether or not I should kiss her. It seemed a foregone conclusion, but I’d been wrong before.
Chapter IX: Allston is the cirrhosis-stricken liver of Boston’s college nexus. Calling it rat-infested inaccurately characterizes the natural ecosystem.
Chapter VI: I arrived in Nashville defeated. I had crawled through San Francisco and Chicago amidst the worst of the Great Recession and come out the other side, officially in the latter half of 10 Cities/10 Years; I was drained, bitter, and ready to give up.
Chapter II: I chose Philadelphia for my second year specifically so I could push myself, test my mettle. In that sense, it fulfilled every expectation.
It's been some time since I wrote 1 of these, but seeing as I'm in my last month, I figured I'd bring back this feature for an appropriate send off. Bar regulars are a varied lot. There are the assholes and the loners, but somewhere in between sits the patron saint of all drunks: The … Continue reading BARchetypes: The One Who’s Gonna Die Here
I arrived in New Orleans 3:15, local time, an hour later than scheduled due to storms in my layover city, Houston. Upon setting foot in NOLA, I found a cab and met the new roommate at our apartment. She had already warned me that, thanks to Hurricane Isaac’s visit earlier in the week, our apartment … Continue reading Welcome to New Orleans: Another 48 Hours
In walks this girl and she sits next to me. For whatever reason, I decided to chat her up. I blame the whiskey.
One of the most prominent novelists of his age, F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote what some consider the definitive American novel, yet gnawing at the edge of his talent was an addiction that would eventually overshadow his greatest achievements.