They are running ICE drills in the classrooms… Our youth need protection from history books that are missing why this invasion of human rights is coming to pass. Again. And with a country that hasn’t been taught that it’s okay to say, “I didn’t know that. Please tell me more,” it’s too painful for people to hear that at the deepest, wettest root, the U.S. is often the culprit for why people flee their homelands and head here. The raids on this knowledge generation after generation has created a culture that would rather do wrong than be wrong.

“Are everyone’s ancestors hanging out in this café with us?” my potential soul inquires over a hot chai. We stopped in Encinitas on the way home to shake off the evening fog that penetrated our coats.

Check your favorite House tracks by male producers and DJ’s. Now look for the women’s names singing on them. Most of the time, they’re not accounted for.

The other reason I spend time at the airport is because this is where my ambitions like to hang out. When the gates are drawn and the building doors are locked, I like to imagine them smoking cigars on the comfy couches on the third floor throwing poker chips around.

The virus called down and extended its hotel check-out time to noon: an arbitrary cough, a dab of facial tissue, and this residual guilt that I didn’t get enough done while I was laid out.

The myth is that one can board a plane with a one-way ticket and depart from the past, break free from trauma and insecurities, and forget the people we’ve hurt, but nothing stays pinned to the ground and these board behind us.

Not doing dishes right away was what I valued most in Spain.

It’s not a city if you’re wearing pajamas around it. It’s a town.

“Booty-shaking skirts were now sweaters, books, and pens.”

When I tell people that I lived in Europe for five years, they ask two things: Did I go to Italy and did I have a bidet?