Category: Bite-sized Autobiography
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I joined my junior high news-casting class and ended up behind camera as staff reporter manager. Took theater and spent my time writing a play instead of on stage. I’m like Ricky Bobby. I’ve never known what to do with my hands while in the public eye. –Sarah Torribio >>last post <<next post Read more…
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I’d like to share my story of how I came to mistrust the Covid-19 vax and why I chose not to take it. Early on, before the pandemic propaganda machine was in full force, I encountered a couple of media warnings that people with allergies, who are vulnerable to anaphalactic shock, shouldn’t take them. I’ve…
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I am often very hard on myself. We’re talking all aspects. Appearance. Finances. Career performance. Housekeeping. Parenting. Paperwork. However, there is one thing I have done that makes me proud. I’ve read aloud, prolifically, to both my children. My daughter Savannah, 11, and I have been barreling through the Little House books at a rapid…
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I had a different sense of aesthetics as a kid. The dim lighting & finger bowls at barbecue joint Love’s bespoke luxury. I’d visit an elderly relative in their well-appointed trailer home, stare at their rain lamp & be like, “They should have sent a poet.” –Sarah Torribio <<last post >>next post Read more Bite-sized…
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>>last post <<next post Read more Bite-Sized Autobiographies by Sarah Torribio HERE
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Here’s what happened this weekend. I have been banned from Facebook forever, allegedly for posting inappropriate material regarding children. It’s preposterous. I’m a teacher and a mom. I post tiki art, poetry, flash fiction, the occasional think piece, political diatribe, indie fan girl musical post and once in a blue moon a pic of my…
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>>last post <<next post Read more Bite-sized Autobiographies HERE
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>>last post >>next post Read more Bite-Sized Autobiographies HERE
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I’m in a long-term substitute teaching job. I spend all day with first-graders. About two days ago, one of the cuter 6-year-olds addressed me thusly. Kid: “You’re in like 100th grade. How old are you, anyway?” Me: (brightly, brushing inside my ongoing midlife crisis) ‘I’m 48. It’s not young and it’s not old. It’s the…