Category Archives: Life


Photo Credit: Jenn Tylbon

Photo Credit: Jenn Tylbon

With wide swaths of Oklahoma in pieces, I feel weird. Relatively speaking, I was physically unaffected. I can safely say I’m getting real tired of that burn in your throat the develops as you choke back tears, so I’m not emotionally exempt but my house (apartment) still stands. Bryan’s old house, while slightly damaged and will likely need a new roof,  escaped the worst of it. Our mementos and things are safe and sound. Thousands of others across the state cannot say the same thing after two days of tornadoes swept across the landscape.

Tuesday,  Bryan and I inched back into Moore to retrieve the greater part of his earthly possessions. We had already decided to move him into my place this weekend. Mother Nature had different ideas. I’m choosing to believe that this is her way of saying “You two are GREAT together. Why wait?” Because that’s way better than thinking she’s a total bitch who got bored one Monday afternoon in May. We both took the day off and set out to begin a move a few days ahead of schedule.

We crept through crawling traffic and pedestrians hiking in to help, snaking around back ways to get into Bryan’s neighborhood. Police blockades and damp National Guardsmen (because screw fair, it rained again) denied access to the most heavily affected areas. We managed to the very edge of Bryan’s neighborhood (the half that still stood anyway) and an incredibly kind OK County Sheriff’s deputy decided to allow us to drive in when he was well within his rights to make us hoof it.

I couldn’t help but feel a tiny twang of survivor’s guilt as we pulled into his driveway. Power lines still littered the road and the house was dark and musty. The smell of unconditioned air smelled weird and though everything was exactly as it should have been and cloud-filtered sunlight poured in through the windows, it was still creepy, a disjointed experience that neither of us could explain. I shut down the emotional center of my brain as we dissembled furniture and wrapped valuables to keep them from breaking. I categorically ignored the knowledge that folks a mere four doors down were looking anything at all not already dissembled or broken.

After we tetris-ed the truck full of boxes and belongings, I felt what I imagine a refugee feels as they bundle up their goods and trundle down the road looking for higher ground and safer keeping. Only I wasn’t  refugee. I wasn’t fleeing anything. I was simply going ahead with plans already discussed, just a little earlier than initially thought and surrounded by something that, honestly, we’re accustomed to seeing. Of course when a storm takes out your home its a shock and I can’t begin to think I know what that feels like but I’ve seen the aftermath before. I’m as safe as I ever am, my family protected and all my things intact. I should feel lucky or blessed or privileged, and I do but it also feels weird. Like I should feel something else; I should feel worse or better or something other than perfectly normal because my life is still perfectly normal.

Perhaps its because this is the first major tornado in my area since the onset of adulthood. The previous tornado that had held any sort of impact on me or attacked people I actually knew, hit when I was 18 at best and I don’t really care what the law says, I wasn’t even close to being an adult then, though my 18-year-old self would have argued that point vehemently.  The one before that, the infamous May 3rd (Yes, we named it by its date. This one will be called “The May 20th.”), struck when I was in middle school.

Perhaps because it could have easily been me and my family and now that holds different implications.  Once you have kids everything changes, including, apparently, emotional reactions to weather events.

Perhaps it’s just because I’m mushier then I used to be.

Perhaps it’s all of the above.

There’s a few of my perhaps’. And they all feel weird.




I live in tornado alley. I was born and raised in Oklahoma and tornadoes have always been a part of my culture and life. I’ve crouched under mattresses and crammed my family into hallway cabinets; I’ve listened to the Doppler sirens drone on and on; I’ve looked up to the sky and saw it spinning. I’ve listened to the news and watched the power flashes.  I’ve rescued cats and searched for keepsakes. I’ve shoveled wreckage away and comforted the displaced. We all have. Because we’re Oklahomans.

We know when its coming. Most of us can accurately predict the storms we can do nothing about. The phrase feel it in our bones isn’t a colloquialism. We have become sensitized to the barometric pressure changes, to the little prickle at the back of your neck the sudden rise in humidity gives you. We’ve seen green skies and red skies and black skies and helped pick through the devastation of our neighbors’ homes. And sometimes our own. We know exactly what a freight train sounds like as it smashes through your residence. And we know the pain of stepping out onto the concrete pad our house once proudly stood. We all have stories of where we were and how close it was.

It has happened again in my home state. This particular storm struck closer than ever before, the flattened, tattered landscape a mere four doors away from my fiance’s residence. Still, though, I am not a refugee of nature like so many others. Our resiliency and ability to rely on each other is being called upon. Moore was ripped up by the roots and thrown back down for all of us to clean up. The familiar sites of insurance SUVs, National Guard HumVees and Red Cross relief trucks are offering a little comfort and a lot of hope. Helicopters zip across the sky and utility trucks are climbing over mountains of debris, scrambling to reset, restore and resume normalcy.

The stories range from heroic to heartbreaking. Turn on the news and see what pain, loss, fear, heart break, frustration & helplessness look like in flesh and blood. Then keep watching. Because when the camera pans away from the dirt-smeared face of a man who has no idea what to do next, you’ll see Oklahomans doing what Oklahomans do best; helping rebuild, helping move on.

The question constantly posed by those outside is “Why? Why would you live there if this is so common? Why not just move to some place safer?” Because we’re Oklahomans and this is our home. We are born of Native Americans and Oil Roughnecks and people hardened by the desolation of the Dust Bowl. Nature can have the houses.  Our home is not made by the buildings we construct and the things we amass. Our home is made by the people we love and that love us back. When our house is blown away we know our neighbors will bring it back, piece by piece if necessary. When tragedy strikes, total strangers arrive with shovels in hand and hugs at the ready.  That’s why this is home. That’s why this will always be home.



This post is actually about spoons. Sorry to disappoint. Actually its about most major utensils and their relationship to food.

I have long classified foods differently then most of the world. Rather than use the food pyramid to create food groups or even the more chef-like starch, protein, vegetable & sugar, I establish food types by which utensil is customarily necessary to eat it. I have five basic food groups; spoon, fork, knife, hand & straw.

Naturally some cross over and any of them can be prepared in a variety of ways that defy my standard classification. For the most part I group it by what you would need if a normal, sane, non-argumentative human being prepared it. A sampling of my methodology is as follows:

Hand Food

  • Sandwiches
  • Chips
  • Pretzels
  • Most varieties of raw fruits and vegetables (notable exceptions – avocado. Avocado is not a hand food. It’s slippery as well, avocado, because its really slippery.)
  • Candy
  • Sushi

Spoon Food

  • Ice Cream
  • Cereal
  • Soup
  • Chili (If this is a Fork Food for you, you’re doing it wrong.)
  • Yogurt
  • Cottage Cheese
  • Curry

Fork Foods

  • Lasagna
  • Meatballs
  • Cake (There is some contest as to whether this is a fork or a spoon food. But because I like squishing the crumbs between the tines of the fork, this is a Fork Food for me.)
  • Pasta
  • Most varieties of cooked fruits and vegetables

Knife Food

  • Most varieties of meat, cooked or raw (Notable exception: tartare which is normally ingested with a spoon…and E. coli.)
  • Butter
  • Really poorly cooked pasta

Straw Food

  • Milk
  • Soda
  • Juice
  • Milk Shakes
  • Technically speaking, literally everything can be made in straw form if you don’t have issues with meat paste and texture isn’t a thing for you.

Now cheese is tricky. Cheese is to my food world what ice is to the physics world. Ice can be a gas, a liquid and a solid simultaneously. Cheese can be a Hand, Fork, Spoon and Knife Food. I suppose if you are really strange, it could be a Straw Food too. As evidenced by the video above. I’m sure that burger had cheese on it. I suppose you could also suck up melted Velveeta via straw. Actually the more I think about it, the more I think the Straw Food category is incredibly creepy. And gross. Just on potential alone.