Tag Archives: nostalgia

The Great Toilet Paper Panic of 2020

Posted on March 15, 2025 by mitchteemley

Five years ago today, we were on the verge of a pandemic. We didn’t know yet how serious it would become, but we knew a lockdown was coming. Result? There was a run on supermarket supplies — especially toilet paper! … Continue reading →

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Moving Out and Moving On

Posted on March 4, 2025 by mitchteemley

Photo by Mantas Hesthaven My Real Memoir Being the director of a bohemian arts academy, at age twenty-five, gave me a certain “successful young artist” veneer. I barely made rent, but I dated a lot of our students. Pauline wasn’t a stunner, but … Continue reading →

Posted in Humor, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

My Secret Search for That Missing Something

Posted on February 25, 2025 by mitchteemley

Photo by Marco Carmona My Real Memoir I was a romanticist who was disappointed in romance, an idealist who was disappointed in his ideals. I’d once seen a hippy-ish movie about Francis of Assisi, and thought about him now. Like Francis, I … Continue reading →

Posted in Humor, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Love, Longing, and the Absurdity of Life

Posted on February 18, 2025 by mitchteemley

My Real Memoir Following the break-up with the girl I loved, my existential crisis escaped from the cellar, and began raging about the house again. Who was I? Why was I? These were the questions that drove existentialists to despair. Therefore, I’d … Continue reading →

Posted in Humor, Memoir, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments

Looking for Love and the Meaning of Life

Posted on February 11, 2025 by mitchteemley

Photo by Ron Lach My Real Memoir It wasn’t the first time my heart had been pierced. But it was the deepest cut it had ever received. Why? Because, when my first two “I love yous,” Marty and Dar, had left, they’d … Continue reading →

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Dangling by a Thread of Hope

Posted on February 4, 2025 by mitchteemley

My Real Memoir I’d just turned twenty-five, and was recovering from multiple goodbyes, while pushing back against that old recurring sense of purposelessness. So I clung to what remained: I still had friends, even if the tide had carried some away. And … Continue reading →

Posted in Culture, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 37 Comments

Trapped in a Box of My Own Design

Posted on January 21, 2025 by mitchteemley

My Real Memoir I’d built the cabin—and now I had cabin fever. This wasn’t the life I wanted. All I did, it seemed, was administrate my tiny-but-important-sounding Newport Institute of the Arts. I was doing the one thing I said I’d never … Continue reading →

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Looking for a Bigger Love

Posted on December 10, 2024 by mitchteemley

My Real Memoir I’d found “the One,” and then lost her. Twice. By which I mean I’d fallen in love with my high school sweetheart, then told her I wasn’t sure I still loved her, then decided I still did, then been … Continue reading →

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And Then I Met This Girl…

Posted on December 3, 2024 by mitchteemley

My Real Memoir I’d fallen in love with the entirety of girlkind in second grade. A third-grader had seen me skin my elbow, and tenderly rubbed my shoulders as she escorted me to the nurse’s office. That was all it took. Even … Continue reading →

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“What I Did on My Summer Vacation”

Posted on August 25, 2023 by mitchteemley

When I was a kid, the first assignment of the schoolyear would always be a “What I Did on My Summer Vacation” report. Well, I’m a smidge past grade school now, nevertheless, here’s my report. In the spring, Trudy and … Continue reading →

Posted in Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 66 Comments