-
The Length of my Nails
I’ve only gotten my nails professionally done twice in my 23 years of living. Once for my 15th birthday, when I lived with my mom and was finally allowed to do things like other girls my age, and again 3 years later for a combination of my senior portraits and homecoming dance. Because of that,…
-
Time Traveler
I remember a conversation I had with a girlfriend once. “Sometimes I really do believe I’m a time traveler” “Yeah?” The air was crisp- the perfect balance for the wind to hit your skin with just the right amount of heat while the air sucked into your lungs drew slightly cold. The ground was wet,…
-
HonkyTonk Saloon
I spent the night at the bar where we “met”, hearing everyone refer to another man as my boyfriend. It was okay until we were alone, without the noise and fuss drowning out thoughts of you.Cock Johnson, I miss you so much
-
Pause on the Moment
Initially, I wanted to tell a greater story- sharing every minute detail, decoding them. And even though it’s been brief, the shindig chronicles have served its purpose in my life- i’m moving forward. Maybe one day the air will be the perfect temperature or the wind will hit my nose just right, and I’ll find…
-
How We Met | Shindig Chronicles pt. II
I guess before I go any further, I should tell you how we met. And I guess before I tell you how we met, I should provide the proper context. The Reckoning I entered college with a boyfriend from high school, and we stayed together for three years. We were doomed from the start, but…
-
Whatever That Was
Every once in a while I find myself missing Shindig.And every once in a while I laugh—remembering the cruelties I’d slip in so casually—still, wondering where his standoffishness stemmed from. I never had high expectations for this guy, considering we had met last October in his apartment at 12:30 a.m. on a random weeknight before…
-
a quick letter to you, old friend
sometimes I lay in bed and I think about you. and I think and I think and I think until eventually I think… do you think about me? do you lay in your bed and stare at the creases I’ve made? see something that reminds you of me before shaking the memories off like dust?…
