When I was a kid, we had drills. Fire drills. Earthquake drills. Soviet-bombing drills. That was pretty much it. I’m nearly fifty now. The active shooter and lockdown stuff came later, when my daughter was in school. Back then, there were only two moves: Get the fuck out of the building in an orderly fashion. … Continue reading dispatches from hell… sorry, I mean, Portland… 01
No relationship lives in black and white—and apparently, neither do I. In Act I, I told you about Cheri—the first friend who saw me without flinching. That friendship cracked something open in me, and then it broke me when it ended. In Act II, I picked up the pieces and tried to rebuild myself out … Continue reading my history of understanding friendship — act III: of course I’m on a spectrum…
CamiKaos 