Andee the Sad Boy (Parts One and Two)

Pt. i

I love Portland, but she’s sure been a bitch lately.

Or maybe I’m the bitch.

Or maybe we both have strong personalities and just need some space right now.

All I know is I’d rather be a sad boy working on a farm in Illinois than a sad boy making you a latte somewhere that pays me shit to manage their shop. (I’m not hip enough to barista at a coffee shop that treats me well in Portland.)

Pt. ii

My thoughts, feelings, and body are a source of strength. I intend to celebrate them, not wrangle them into submission.

The other day I was reading Wildwood and eating cherries. I normally read classics or books about spirituality; big, important books. Books that make you smart or balanced or cultured.

In that moment, a bag of cherries and a YA adventure novel with whimsical illustrations filled a place in my soul that Tolstoy or Thich Nhat Hanh or Rumi or bell hooks or any passage of the bible couldn’t have.


(13:03 {but also pleez listen to the whole thing it’s the shit.})



I was raised in the era of dewy eyed revivalists- the good lord moves in big and brilliant ways. People are healed, souls are saved, miracles happen.

I think that’s true. I think the good lord moves in big ways sometimes.

But not for me. At least, not really. I had some churchy youthgroupy tear spilling dramatic moments with God when I was younger, but the way I experience God now is a lot more mustard-seedy.

You know, faith is like a mustard seed? Jesus says it. Teeny tiny seemingly insignificant moments all coming together to make america’s favorite hot dog topping.

I wish faith was like corn or sunflowers, something tall and prolific.

But right now, faith is taking a walk instead of watching more TV. And God was faithful- I saw a rat colony and a Native American drum circle. I got hit on by four homeless men (on three separate occasions) and drank a milk shake. And I can say with great confidence, though it was scary at times, it was infinitely more rewarding than another hour of The Mindy Project would have been.

Here are some quotes about faith that mean a lot to me right now.

“Come on Andee, get the fuck out of bed.”


“Move, and way will open.”

-Quaker/Zen proverb

“I try to have faith in the things that will happen/ I get saved from myself when I do/ so maybe god isn’t the right word/ but I believe in you.”

-Ramshackle Glory

“Trust in god with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge god and god will make your path straight.”


“I see it I want it/ … I grind till I own it/ I twirl on my haters.”



being homesick is strange for someone who feels they don’t really have a home.

that’s not true. i many homes. the camp i worked at. most of the little houses i have lived in. the graffiti of a masked man on a wooden fence behind the high school i went to.

my friends are my home. songs are my home. and yes, places are my home too.

i am so homesick it hurts. its the most beautiful type of pain,though, because it means, if only for a fleeting moment, i belonged somewhere.