02 | Dance Dance Party Party

"Wait, so you just dance in a room full of women and you're sober?" This is almost always the response I get when I talk about Dance Dance Party Party, or DDPP. And Hells yeah! You should try it! ​ I attended my first DDPP almost 2 years after first hearing of it. Worry over seeming awkward or embarrassed kept me away but thankfully, curiosity finally beat out my vanity. At that first class, the Den Mothers said "Hey, if it seems weird, it's because it is. But two songs in and you'll forget all of that." I was dubious but gave it a go. I stationed myself in the back of the room, faced the wall, tapped my toes, and closed my eyes.... Two songs later became seven years on...and going strong. N

01 | Live Lit

Live Lit is exactly what it sounds like: literature being shared in front of a live audience. Readers share personal essays, lessons shared,

Let November Have Its, Month!

Yesterday, I found myself with an afternoon free of any obligations, where I could finally partake in my favorite activity: reading magazines. I savor my magazines (three monthly, one weekly) and often wait until I have two hours of unfettered freedom to peruse the periodicals at my own slow and savoring pace. File it under "simple pleasures." There is something so delightful and relaxing in thumbing through a robust, glossy magazine. I take my time, read each article, in order. I even give some eye-time to the advertisements. It's never a quick thumb-through. There are not many things I am meticulous about but skipping ahead in magazine pages is a line I do not cross. It's all or nothing, d

Thinking in Cursive

Look at this, I made a blog! And you're here, reading it! Wow, I'm honored. Thanks for that! You're good people, I always said so. ​ I've been keeping a steady writing practice since I was seven when I received a small diary for my birthday. It had a plastic lock and matching tiny plastic key and the pages were split into light pink, light purple, and light blue. I wrote about how much i hated my sisters, how much I liked my friends. I wrote many pages on the gross smell and taste of broccoli and wondered when I'd be grown up because I had no doubts that I'd be a famous author and illustrator for children's book. Because seven-year-olds have strong opinions on such things, I spent nearly 1/

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