Dear everything I ever planned to do with my life: I’m sorry that I discovered the Kahlua Horchata.


“I’d just say to aspiring journalists or writers—who I meet a lot of—do it now. Don’t wait for permission to make something that’s interesting or amusing to you. Just do it now. Don’t wait. Find a story idea, start making it, give yourself a deadline, show it to people who’ll give you notes to make it better. Don’t wait till you’re older, or in some better job than you have now. Don’t wait for anything. Don’t wait till some magical story idea drops into your lap. That’s not where ideas come from. Go looking for an idea and it’ll show up. Begin now. Be a fucking soldier about it and be tough.”

— Ira Glass, "How I Work"

Saturday night I read a collection of poems to a crowd of 40+ friends and strangers for the first time, and I didn’t die. They didn’t die. In fact, they actually seemed to love it. One woman asked if I’d be willing to come speak at a teacher’s conference. One stopped me on the street later that evening as I was walking back to my car to tell me how much she liked it. A couple of people were even talking about it on Twitter yesterday. All of that was unexpected—I only went in hoping I wouldn’t bomb it.

It’s been a heady, surreal weekend. I think maybe I’ll make myself do that again.