bird by bird

Tonight I'm eating Red Vines on my couch reading Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's "Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions." I look outside and the sky is cobalt blue for only a moment, before my eyes adjust to the darkness. I remember that today is the first day of summer, the longest day of the year. I miss Brooklyn tonight, and Blue Dog Lake, and many people I love. I chew on another piece of licorice, turn to another page in my book, and feel equal parts nostalgic for the past and grateful for the present.

"I'm sick of mainstream white guys who have money." --CH, on who's she's voting for for Colorado Attorney General "Good isn't always right." --LS, talking about boyfriends as people and boyfriends as boyfriends "You don't know who Val Kilmer is?!" --My boss, after telling me that he was at Comic Con last weekend "I just like sitting and visiting." --My uncle Adam, on his boat eating sunflower seeds on Father's Day "So I guess I have a half-sister!" --GG, after getting an unexpected call from her mom last week "I'm so sorry I scared you." --A glittery gay unicorn, to EH's pup Nezy after the Pride parade

To clarify, this isn't really an ode. I tried writing one but poetry is HARD. So instead here is a paragraph about my teeny closet that I love. The closet in my bedroom is the only closet in my 450 square foot apartment, and as the only storage space available, it has a lot on it's shoulders...err shelves. My bedroom is proportionally as small so my queen size bed leaves zero room for a closet door. Instead, the door is hidden under my bed and a cloth shower curtain serves as a separator between my room and all that lives inside. Which is: a vaccume a mop a yoga mat a snow shovel all my linens all my winter clothes an ice scraper a dust broom 6 pairs of boots my luggage and oh yeah, all. my. clothes. I'd like to thank New York City for teaching me how to make the most of a small space and to get rid of what doesn't fit. I'd also like to thank command hooks, skinny hangers, and my height for allowing me to reach to the very top shelf without a step la

In the almost 10 years that have passed since I lost my dad, I've missed him in big moments like graduations and cross-country moves. Even more so, though, I've missed him in the small moments, like those that fall within the length of a song. Sharing music with my dad was one of the most defining aspects of our relationship and on the last Father's Day that I spent with him, I gave him a burned CD with new music I thought he'd love. Together we listened to the whole thing 2 times through. Now, almost a decade after we lost him, in moments of melody and melancholy when I hear a song I know he'd love, I file it away hoping to get to share it will him again some how. Here are some songs for my father: S.O.B.--Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats Wasting Time--Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats Find Yourself--Lukas Nelson If We Were Vampires--Jason Isbell You're Gonna Live Forever In Me--John Mayer Most of All--Brandi Carlile The Eye--Brandi Carli

I saw Maggie Rogers perform this song a couple weeks ago at Red Rocks , and I cannot. stop. listening. to it. This song is incredible. This performer is incredible. These dance moves are incredible. EH and I have already agreed to get drunk in bathrobes and learn the choreography.