suprasternal notch
Once grief enters your life, it stays. What surprised me most wasn’t that it stayed. It was where it decided to live.
Heather Hazelwood
resilience is bullsh*t, and john green may be a magician
I have heard the word “resilience” more times than I can count, almost always from someone being paid by the hour to say it. A John Green novel finally explained what it actually means.
welcome to dc, you owe us $75
Nothing says welcome to the neighborhood like four government photos of your trash and recycling cans, one of your home, and a close-up of your name and address on a shipping label, and a $75 fine.
two states, a district, and a printer
I am licensed to practice law in North Carolina. I live in Washington, DC. I work from an office in Arlington, Virginia. Three jurisdictions, only one of which I’m licensed in, and it is never the one I’m standing in.
nothing to do but wait
I don’t know if I’m in the rowboat or the water, but I’m certainly waiting for something that is never coming.
the timeline - 2026
Recapping 2025 was easy. This year is more painful: snowcrete, two house sales, a DC house bought from Italy, three households of stuff crammed into one, and a law firm that doesn’t travel well. Ten months down, two to go.
the timeline - 2025
2025 began with saying goodbye to June and learning Becci’s UNC job was being eliminated. Then came a painful New Zealand trip, our most strong-willed puppy yet, a meniscus torn while putting on sunscreen, and a move to DC none of us saw coming.
the beginning
This story doesn’t start with our move to DC. For me, it started on a day in August 2024, walking the dogs one last time at Kure Beach before driving back to Durham for Becci’s knee surgery, dreading what was coming.
