Dec. 7, 2004
Today is my mother’s birthday. It is also Pearl Harbor Day. My mother was not born on the actual Pearl Harbor Day. So there you go. Happy Birthday, Mom. –
Dangerous Music for Dangerous Times.
Today is my mother’s birthday. It is also Pearl Harbor Day. My mother was not born on the actual Pearl Harbor Day. So there you go. Happy Birthday, Mom. –
So tired. The weather is throwing me. The afternoons are looking too much like twilight, and I wake up honestly not knowing whether I am entering the day or leaving
On a three-block strip of Market Street, peeking around the Spanish moss-laden trees, are a handful of funky small shops run out of old houses. On the corner of Market
Okay, so the journal has been a little dull, in my opinion, which warrants an explanation, I feel. I’ve been sick for the last week or so, ducking out of
We won the Takoma Park Folk Festival, which I have to admit I am still giddy about. The win was really secondary to how good I felt based on the response
Rob and I were coming home from an open mic last night. I was thinking about, not the night’s performance, but about how I carry myself in general. I have
With My Regards to Ernie Pyle. Wanderlust has always been one of my favorite words in the English language. It tumbles more than rolls off the tounge and sounds exactly
I arrived early to the Blue Cardinal Café, the official early-morning open mic, in the hopes I would be luckier than I was yesterday and snag a slot. I didn’t
After waiting the first three morning hours in vain for a spot to open up at the official open mic being held at “The Octagon,” I headed back to the
The pathway from Claymont Court ‘s massive octagonal barn to its campground is a one-lane gravel-and-dirt road that cuts and twists through woods and farm fields. At night, the fifteen