Sorry I’m Late, but We Have to Talk About the Jonas Brothers

Featured Image Source It’s 2009 or something. I’m in the car with my mom, my best friend, my little sister, and her best friend. We’re on the road to South Carolina for a Jonas Brothers concert. We’re blasting “When You Look Me In the Eyes” and replacing all the words with “When You Give Me…

The Dinosaur in My Living Room

Dad carries the little desk and sets it down in the kitchen. As if it’s just an ordinary desk. It was built in 1720, predating the Industrial Revolution. Mom and Dad show me how to find the clues to unlock its secrets. See here, the nicks in the wood along the edges? Made by knife,…

A Portrait of the Craft as an Essay

I started writing a collection of essays about what I was sure would be a very short recap of my grandmother’s life. Her immigration story was the only thing that seemed interesting to me about her; her forty years at JCPenny would not make for good writing material, I thought. And I already knew most…

Thanksgiving Questions I Will No Longer Deign to Answer

Every year, people my age have to bear the brunt of relatives’ question-asking. Whether it’s invasive, rude, or your grandmother has finally gone around the bend, everyone has had an experience with questions like these. Well, maybe not exactly these questions but you catch me, drift-wise. This year, I will make it easy for everyone by simply…

On Moving for the First Time

I have lived in the same place for 19 years. We moved to what is now my old house when I was three years old, and needless to say, I remember very little of that transition. I was probably too busy being a holy terror, running around in a tutu and camo pants insisting everyone pay…

Discovering My Family History

I didn’t want to write about this, because it’s so personal. But I think it’s important to let people see stuff like this, so here we are. My Creative Writing major (which my brother insists will condemn me to the barista life) requires a twenty- to twenty-five-page piece of creative writing. I chose to write…