Seattle

On Pause

A few weeks ago, I spoke with Maggie Kaplan, founder of Invoking the Pause, the environmental small grants program that …

The Power of Three

It was nearly a year ago that I first visited Boston. Last week’s events had me rereading my Boston essays, …

Waves

The beige receiver felt heavy in my hand as I dialed. The phone rang several times before my mother picked …

Feet First

After wading through my firm’s annual marketing report and compiling an inventory of my own literary works for EDGE class …

Application

Name: Gabriela Denise Frank Occupation: Do you mean the title on my business cards or that I’m a writer? Your …

Homecoming

I had anticipated last week’s trip to Pullman, Washington, for some time. Since November, I’ve been working with teams to …

Will

“It’s better when I don’t really like anyone I’m dating. When I really like a guy, I’m fuckin’ creepy.” “Yeah, …

Rolling

A gaggle of girls, eight-year-old saplings to coltish teenagers, swept cautiously around the roller derby rink, blocking and passing each …

It’s a Walk

After watching the entire first season in an evening, I tweeted, “What scares me is how accurately Portlandia describes life …

Happy Frickin’ New Year

‘Tis a new year —a time of hope, an era of beginnings, fresh starts, healthy diets, exercise regimes, flapping doves, …

10 Easy Pieces

375,000 Approximate number of white residents living in the Detroit Metro area in 1980. In 1947, the year that Ford …

Untraveled

Beginning with my first moments on the Blue Line from O’Hare, I catalogue the places I didn’t go. Right out …

Little Italy

An echo of my Italian sojourn in 2010, my feet ached terribly the day that I met John, Enrica and …

Bottom of the Ninth

I choked up when a fourteen-year-old girl sang the Star Spangled Banner this afternoon. I’m not sure why; I’ve never …

Feeling It

Americans have a funny relationship with time. We don’t necessarily honor it—we manage it. We read countless books and attend …

Stepping Outside the Circle

In a single lane, hundreds of us traveled upwards, leaving our worries behind in Washington as we passed a small green sign that read, “Now entering Oregon.” No passports or security checkpoints, only a humble welcome. As I eased onto Highway 30W, the road twisted and turned, making my heart race, especially when taken at 60 miles per hour. I thought, “This is the farthest I’ve ever driven alone.”