Dear Andy, I took these photos of you a couple weeks ago at Disney.
It’s April, my birthday month, which is also the start of a marathon mind fuck surrounding things like mortality and the afterlife and if Hunger Games time will come before or after I am gone.
You know that scene in Forrest Gump where he’s been running and running, and he’s wearing that ridiculous trucker hat with a beard, looking like some dude I’d probably date if I wasn’t married or afraid of hair in my teeth?
May my reaction to having a book published never be less than a tear infected, snot filled, scream fest.
What’s this, a recipe? I know, I never do this sort of thing anymore. Honestly, I barely cook these days, and sustain life via take-out menu. But, I need to talk to you about my soup. I got an Instant Pot for Christmas and took it out of the box 2 weeks ago, and haven’t […]
I know it doesn’t seem like it in my books, or on this blog, or on any of my podcasts, but I’ve been keeping quite a bit close to my chest. Namely, FAILURE. STRUGGLE. BLINDING FEAR.
I grew up in a time that not only had answering machines, but people genuinely missed your call and were eager to return it so they could speak to you with their mouths through a receiver. It was insane, but it’s all we knew.
Andy has been a coach for four years. When they first asked him to coach, assisting with Jude’s Catholic Youth Organization’s soccer team through our school, I was admittedly a little hurt.
I still get email pitches in my inbox every day. Do you want to try a sample pack of our latest diapers?
Sometimes I wake up and know from the second I take my morning pee, checking my phone on the toilet until my legs go numb, that I will not be fit for the internet.