Shoot me an I-Message
I am still haunted by one childhood memory. I was 10 years old, jamming out to the Backstreet Boys in my room, when suddenly my big brother barged through the door and yelled, “Turn that off! Backstreet Boys are lame.” This was my astute older sibling coming to enlighten me of a supposed fact. He is, after all, older and wiser than I am. But … Continue reading Shoot me an I-Message