Poor Poor Old Roy Moore
Hi Roy. It’s me. You don’t know me from one of the malls or high school football stadiums you frequent. You’ve never heard of me actually. I’m one of those girls who grew up. You actually know a lot of …
Category: Sports
Skating with Molotov: Portland Renegade Roller Derby
Last week, after I wrote a post that referred to my own elbow-throwing, competitive propensities, a woman who skates by the name of Molotov approached me on my Facebook Page, Running from Hell with El, to see if I was …
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Bob Costas on Gun Control
Bob Costas stared at the camera with a steely-eyed glare, and then used the entire ninety second halftime segment of last night’s Cowboys vs. Eagles game to argue in favor of stricter gun control laws in the wake of Kansas …
It’s Okay to Be Like Everyone Else: A Five-Miler
I’m in a crowded room and then I’m in a bathroom. I’m holding my breath. I see someone. He’s carrying this biological terror inside him, this virus that he’s going to unleash on the world, so I take a deep …
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What Makes a Good Mom?
When I opened my daughter’s door to tuck her in for bed, I caught a glimpse of a 9-year old flashing a toy light sabre at incoming storm troopers. Naturally I grabbed the other light sabre and joined her in …
Sleepless in Virginia
I can’t sleep tonight. My husband, a Den Leader for my son’s Cub Scout Troop, is out at Burke Lake on a camp out with our two sons. My daughter is asleep and I am approximately 393,234 sheep from sleep. …
I Hear Him and I Surrender
This is an excerpt from my final chapter from I Run: Running from Hell with El Many people have asked me, often with great exasperation, what I was running away from. For years, friends told me to stop. Over and …
A Laundry Mountain, Falling Leaves and the Synopsis
I learned a little about the way I write this last week. I like juggling several projects at once right up until the irreversible moment when I hit terminal mental velocity. Then I drop all the balls and hide under …
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Tales of Woe from the Soccer Field
It’s Tuesday afternoon. He runs into my room wearing cleats, shin guards and socks that are so long on his still tiny legs that they reach up over his knees and need to be folded over. I sigh and follow …
Mysterious Marathon Memory of Paul Ryan
Thanks again to WordPress for “freshly pressing” my post on media distortion last week. I’d like to welcome both new and longtime followers alike, and to reassure you that I’m not a political blogger. Not really. In fact, I swore …