My Aura is Yellow

The date is July 11, 2017. The time is approximately 9:30 PM. I am in the basement of UIUC's Nugent Hall at the College of Media's 360 Sports and Entertainment camp. The MLB All Star game is on television and at least 15 campers have crowded into the room. We are not all actively watching baseball. A football is being tossed around, some people are focused on the foosball game on the other end of the room. My attention is dedicated to the Jimmy John's sandwich in my hand. A speaker blasts music over the sounds of the TV, but even the most crazed fans among us don't mind. That is, until someone requests that Jay Z be added to the playlist. I roll my eyes, an action I intended to keep to myself. I get called out. Something along the lines of "You got a problem with Jay Z?" is said. The room seems quieter now. [It should be noted that I have no substantial opinions on Jay Z's music, I've never listened to much of it, and I understand and respect h...

Dear Macaroni and Cheese, Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You've been there for me longer than the best of my human friends. I trust you more than anyone or anything else. You are the purest part of my life. As in all relationships, we've had our challenges and bad times. I remember when I was too impatient to finish cleaning a pot, cooked you in still-soapy water, and had to throw you out because I might "ingest chemicals" and "poison myself" and "die." As if you weren't worth it. I remember the many times I gave you too much milk or too much butter, the times I've burned you. I remember when my cousin found a cheesy, dead ladybug snuggled into a bowl with you. I remember when another cousin ate too much of you before we went swimming, and she got the sole public pool in Paris, Illinois shut down while I watched you, regurgitated, floating down the deep end. Sure, there have been awkward moments, but none dampen my...