Spencer Moseley

I'm so tired. Just finished reading A Dance with Dragons. And the books are pretty good. They're hard to read. There are so many characters and plot lines tangled together that many times I wasn't sure what was happening or what was significant. Spoilers ahead... Example: When Jon Snow was killed, I had to look up the names of his killers to remind myself who they were and what they had said to lead up to that moment. I guess it just goes to show how good GRRM's memory is. And how good he is at subtly planting seeds of future treasons. My books will have to be way less complex. My brain can't handle that much overload. My brain feels too foggy. In a bit of a depressed way. Today anyway. Well. I just consumed two gorditas and an horchata from this amazing Mexican spot down the road. And as my doctor says, diet is directly related to depression.  But hey I'm writing. I'll give myself credit where it's due. And I'm substitute teaching today and I've...

wHeN yOu kNoW yOu KnOw.  I had that feeling once. I had someone I thought I was insanely connected to. Our chemistry was unparalleled. And then a sad incident I can't divulge ended it. I still think about that person and it really was special. I'm not sure if I was in love, which probably means I wasn't. We only dated for a few months. But I did love her. And I genuinely enjoyed everything: the friendship, humor, sex, everything.  But it's over now.  I want to be in a relationship again, but at the same time I don't really want to settle down. I suppose that means I'm looking for an open relationship, but then I get jealous so I guess I don't really want that either. I'm not good at sharing. So I guess in order to have that connection and fun, I'll need to sacrifice fun for monogamy.  And perhaps that's not so bad. We could have a family. Raise a few kids. Drive the ole Sedan. I don't know. It feels a little bland. But maybe life just feels a...

I accept my body. I accept that I don't accept my body. I accept that I accept that I sometimes both accept and don't accept my body. If accepting my body is a feeling, then I'm not too good at this because I don't feel too good about my body. I'm writing everyday now. Even when I don't feel like it. Because I read that life is not about doing what feels good but about doing what you find meaningful. And I find unlimited self-expression meaningful. Because unlimited self-expression feels good. Shit. I'm back at a feeling based decision. But what else is meaning but something that feels right? I suppose it could be doing something that someone else calls meaningful. Jesus called love meaningful. And his death on a cross is the absolute "I don't feel like doing this but it's meaningful" power move. Until you look at it too closely and realize he didn't need to die on a cross. I mean, he's the one making literally all the rules. He doe...

I'm nearly at the end of my finances since I lost my last job. Sure, I have side hustles to support my needs, but in a worst case scenario I end up back with my parents until I find a job that can financially support me again (I love my parents of course but I'd rather have my own place). Because the way things stand right now with the money I'm making from substitute teaching and Door Dashing, I'd have to find an apartment that costs less than $500/mo including utilities. And those don't exist in Houston unless I want my car jacked daily. I've applied to hundreds of jobs. It's tiring talking to recruiters after a while, explaining why you'd be valuable to various companies. It's tiring researching companies before an interview: Who's the hiring manager (and how much can I find out about him/her by stalking them on LinkedIn)? What is this company's culture? What do they want to hear from me, and how can I deliver it without sounding inauthent...

I received a text from a dear friend yesterday, and I need a place to offer a long-form response. If I could go back in time and be a Catholic youth minister all over again I would. And I'd have more fun doing it too. I remember getting criticized back then for using a youth group curriculum that wasn't presenting enough theology and for allowing social time: dodgeball, ice breakers, movie nights. I gave some timid, bullshit response back then, but now I'd give a more data based response: half these kids are going to leave the faith anyway because they're gay/bi/trans or want to support the LGBTQ community/women's rights, so might as well make sure they connect with it so they don't throw the baby out with the bathwater. From what I've seen, strict parents make wild college students, and strict religious upbringings foster amorality and relativism. It's to be expected. Why would someone with such a traumatic experience ever "keep the faith".  I...

Kevin Laciter bit into a bread roll while Seth talked about Harvard. The week before he had talked about community college, and the week before that some other college down in Florida.  His son stopped talking to butter his bread, but Kevin couldn't tell if he wanted his advice or not. It seemed every time he tried to offer it, Seth would bite his head off.  "Or I could just go to community college," he shrugged. "There'd be less to worry about with scholarships and whatnot." "Mhm," said Kevin. It's like he's baiting me to respond so he can yell at me if I disagree. Paula rounded the corner, "Or you could take a year off to consider your options," she said. Kevin glared at her. Paula ignored him and plated herself a roast chicken leg.  "No," said Seth. "I'll think of something." Oh thank God.  Seth must have seen a look on Kevin's face. "I'm sure dad doesn't want me to stick around. anyway....

 Sarah wore dark red lipstick, a black pencil skirt and her hair in a pinned bun.  Jason wore his hair in an uncombed mess, donned the same plaid shit from the day before, and his pants were wrinkled. He smiled at Sarah. She smiled but turned back to her computer screens quickly. He thought she didn't want to talk, but then, without looking at him, she asked him about his dog.  "His name is Francis," he said, turning back to his monitors, not deigning to face her if she wouldn't face him.  "Aww," she said, a little too sing-songy, like she didn't really mean it. He finished taking his notes about some customer who's credit card processor was back up and running. Why do I still work here? "Dude you gotta see this," said Leslie. Her hair was spiked. She was his lesbian best friend.  She showed him a video where a cat chased another cat until one of them fell down a flight of stairs. Leslie laughed like it was her first time seeing the video. ...