Back when I was young and blissfully ignorant, I loved the leading up and the first week of school. I would get my birthday money from my great-aunt in Ohio for my birthday and used that to buy my school supplies. The smell of opening up a fresh pack of notebook paper and putting it in my binder is euphoric. Don't get me started on the book bags. The one I picked out had to fit my books and the occasional jacket. I was ex...

“Excuse me. Is the bar still open?” I look up from cleaning to see an older male with an overly patched burlap messenger bag that has seen better days. I motion for the man to sit down at a table that doesn’t have its chairs upturned. “The bar is closed for the night, but I can get you something. What would you like?” I asked. “A dirty martini,” he replied. “Extra gritty, double olives?” “It’s the only way I roll.” As I m...

I am a grown woman that writes in her diary, and I’m not ashamed of it.I was given a diary at the age of ten, not knowing the purpose of having one. I didn’t have a lot of things to talk about, only how annoying people in my immediate family are. Two years later, an assignment was given in class about journal writing, and I took to it immediately. During that summer, I bought a cheap spiral-bound notebook and began writin...