The Long Run

Did anyone else seem a little extra tired this morning? Not like, I needed more sleep tired; like emotionally exhausted. Like a toll had been taken on you mentally that was just too much to bare anymore. This is the American psyche today, November 8, 2016. It’s finally here, and soon to be over. Election Day. This election has essentially been 18 months long. A year and a half. Two pregnancies. Three hockey seasons. All leading up to today.

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Old Man Yells at Blog

I dunno bout you…but I’m feelin 32! My birthday has always been one of my favorite days of the year, along with the start of the NHL season, new South Park episodes, and the first snowfall. 32 is a weird age… older people tell you you’re still young, but then you see or talk to actual young people and you realize you’re definitely NOT. As we get older, the things we want for our birthdays change so much; at 21 I wanted to go to the bar and take shots of Kamikazes and SoCo/lime. Since those close to me knew my birthday was coming up, I’ve been asked the question what I wanted for it, and for the first time in my life my list doesn’t include material things like a new snowboard or golf clubs. I thought about this for a while. Here is a list of things I want for my birthday at 32:

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Ultimate Setlist: Poison the Well

Poison the Well is, always has been, and always will be one of my favorite bands. I distinctly remember buying their EP ‘Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder’ as a freshman in high school, telling my friends about it while walking the halls of said high school, and eagerly awaiting their newest album ‘The Opposite of December’ to come out1. Then, when it did finally come out, everything changed. Like, everything.

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On Top of the Hill

Listening: Over the Hills and Far Away – Led Zeppelin

One of my Lit professors in college, Dr. Peter Scheckner famously said “a word is a tool” and the difficult but fun part of writing (and effective communication in general) is finding the right tool for the job, of which there always is one. There are times, however, when you just can’t remember where you put your tool belt. These times are rare for me.1 This past Saturday, the eve of my 30th birthday, was the definition of one of those moments.

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