I recently stole over 200 hundred donuts from a shop near my home, and, like any criminal looking to exploit their crime story, I am going to share the experience with you.
Disclaimer: this post is not a PSA about the necessity of getting yourself stabbed with a flu shot. Instead, it’s a story of how I was somehow able to take something as simple as getting a shot and turn it into an uncomfortably awkward situation for every person involved.
G’day, mate! Vegemite! Outback Steakhouse? Welp, that just exhausted my Australian lexicon. You may be asking, “Dan, why are you using Australian slang? Is this your way of introducing a bold move across the world?” It is not, but it does signify what I consider to be an exciting development in my writing.
Most people who know me can attest to the fact that I have wanted to visit Washington State for many years. Well, this is the year where I decided to finally follow through by visiting the place that has intrigued me for so long.
I have an interesting history with skiing. It began back in 2014 when I published my first blog post about the soon-to-be hobby. I had been inspired to make my life more interesting (hence the title of the blog) and had landed on downhill skiing as one of the best ways to enrich my life. As the title of that post suggests, things did not go according to plan, but even so, here I am today, writing about my experience skiing among the mountains of Washington State. Let me explain how I ended up here.
I want to tell you a little story about the time when I attended a military ball with my friend Shannah. Full disclosure: I am writing this as if it occurred years ago. It did not. I got back from the ball yesterday. Anyway, let’s begin.
One of the darkest days of my life was when I found out that all of the college students taking the general education gym class were required to be a part of an intramural sports team. I was stunned when I heard the news. I felt like Rocky Balboa in one of those boxing movies that I never finished watching where he gets punched in the face over and over again. I had already nearly killed myself trying to run a mile and a half earlier in the semester, and now the teacher wanted me to play a sport with other students?
I did something unforgettable in the spring of 2013. No, I didn’t write an earth-shattering exposé about the plight of refugees in the Middle East. I wish that I had done something that was memorable in such a positive way, but this was unforgettable in the worst way.
Visiting family for the holidays in snowy, Western New York recently brought back a memory from quite awhile ago: the time I drove the family car down a thirty-foot incline.
If you’ve been following my 23-goals, you’ll know that I agreed to visit my friend Rae in New York City during my week of “yes.” We did a ton of incredible activities, so instead of trying to paint the narrative of my visit, I’ve decided to break my NYC adventure into the lessons that I’ve learned.