may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
for even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

-ee cummings

It’s probably an exaggeration to say “before I was anything I was a writer,” but at the same time words are the first thing that I remember being good at. I grew up reading, wearing out my library card, and English class was where I was always in my element. When I got drafted into the competitive creative writing club in middle school, that was the end for anything else.

I was a journalism major because I wanted to write about the world, until I realized those jobs were disappearing faster than the ozone layer (this was in the early 00s.) I got a job in publishing to be close to words, and on the side blogged for various websites about music (especially music), food, the environment, you name it. Yes, because I was interested in those things but first and foremost because I needed an outlet for writing.

Many of those blogs were ones that I started up and then abandoned, restless, trying to channel the jumble of ideas rattling around in my head. My past is littered with projects with tight focus, unable to hold my continued interest because the world is so big and fascinating, how can you zoom in on just one thing and be satisfied?

So here I am, a million interests minor and major, and a need to write about all of it.

The part of me from the west side of Cleveland holds kielbasa and pierogis as some of the most comforting of comfort foods. The part of me that is the child of two Filipino immigrants loves sour and salty and sweet and fatty flavors all rolled into one, and uses rice as a cure for an upset stomach. There’s a part of me that loves Top Chef, and house-made everything, and local sourcing, and Michelin starred restaurants and celebrity chefs, but there’s also a part of me that loves cheap beer, and street food, and dollar pizza, and hot dogs burned just right.

I like being a bunch of opposites because life is better with variety even if – and especially because – variety can be a little messy sometimes.

As a cook my only goal has ever been to be good enough that my friends would look forward to eating at my table. As a writer I’ve only ever wanted to create something I would be happy reading. As a kid I only ever wanted to be able to eat cake for breakfast.