Tuna and Rice

Memories from my early childhood bob around in a fuzzy sea of colors and hazy voices. Certain pictures and sounds can be made distinct, though. Take the brown-and-maroon blob, for example, and sharpen it. It turns into a kotatsu, a wooden table placed over an electrically heated pit in the floor with futon blankets squeezed … More Tuna and Rice

That Guy, Tim

Tim turns 24 in less than a week. I’ve spent the past three years driving him up the wall.   Last Friday was déjà vu for all parties involved. We were at Tim’s house waiting for our friends to arrive and making small talk. Tim had poured himself a glass of bourbon, and I kept … More That Guy, Tim


I’m staying at my friend Ellen’s house for the next three weeks until I leave for Europe. Her family has a dog, Furball. Furball is barely two feet in length, reeks of piss, and shits out his remaining brain cells every time he takes a dump. It’s my job to take him out for a … More Furball