Today boys and girls, we will be looking at the oft-misunderstood topic of joy. I hope to delight, inspire and enlighten you with a few little-known facts about the elusive concept:

Joy spelled backwards is yoj.


The One Where I Got a Job

In this comfortingly weird corner of the Internet that I have fashioned for myself, I have always been wary of merely keeping a public journal.

I am more interested in surreal monologues on Scottish tennis players or absurd poetry about baked goods and American political leaders than in pouring out my heart or sharing my day-to-day mundanity for its own sake.



Lots of things are changing in my life right now. It is exciting, but it can get a little overwhelming.

I have found that, in these moments, it’s important to take some time to focus on those things that remain constant while everything around seems uncertain.



Momentum, or the lack thereof, is a powerful thing.

It’s the curse of the blank page – once you start eating into the word count and forming some paragraphs, momentum kicks in and it gets easier. It’s starting that’s the difficult part.


An Ode to Andy Murray

Andy Murray is the Wimbledon champion. He is an Olympic gold medallist and the reigning US Open champion.

He is a hero. He is a fighter. A brave warrior returning with the spoils of war. A triumphant boxer with arms aloft. The victor astride his vanquished foe. He is Muhammad Ali. He is Obi-wan Kenobi. He is Joan of Arc and John McClane.


FAO The Affianced

I don’t know if you have noticed, but everyone is engaged. No, literally everyone. I can barely get through a week of moderate Facebook use without being informed of yet another friend’s betrothal.

I’m not even using hyperbole for effect.*