Since I’m taking a mini-vacation this week, I’m following Hemingway’s advice on writing: write drunk, edit sober. Except being perpetually tipsy, I have no choice but to hand over editing responsibilities to my good friend, Red. I’m at Red’s place in Whitefish for the week, and as much as I adore her, she’s a bubble burster.
As a high school teacher, she actually listens to the lyrics in Top 40 songs. Apparently I’m the last person in the world to know that “Blurred Lines” and “Pumped up Kicks” are about non-consensual sex and gun toting teens, respectively. Zut alors! Does that make me a dweeb for still krumping to them? Or, am I simply a dweeb for admitting to (and enjoying) krumping? (Note: would have preferred to use douche over dweeb, but Red thought it was too harsh.)
On lighter note, here are a few things that caught my attention this week. Hope you enjoy.
I’m a freelance writer with bad hair, a loud mouth and a serious case of wanderlust. Whether it’s luggage, time or just life, I cram as much as possible into small compartments. Warning: my contents will shift during flight. Follow me on Twitter or Pinterest.