Conor Grennan's Blog, page 3

the impossible

This is how I learned to ride a bike: My father held the back of my seat and ran alongside me, shouting encouragement in his vowel-breaking Irish brogue, and next I know I’m flying along, impressed that my father – who seemed ancient to me, as all fathers do – was flying along with me. [...]

grace

Almost by definition, puppies are going to dry-heave loudly at 4 am until you take them out to pee. That’s where I’ve been these past few mornings, people - in my kitchen, wide awake, at 4 am.  But after a week of all this exhausting puppy stuff (and discovering that puppies are merely furry babies [...]

puppy

New puppies, much like Gremlins and teen vampires, tend to be lovely creatures by day and terrifying after dark. (I write these words, as you might imagine, bleary-eyed and disoriented from sleep deprivation. So if this blog comes off as disjointed or even nonsensical, just remember that pickle boots fichus dump truck.) We picked up [...]

torn

There’s a hole in my shoe. Not in the sole, either, though that’s its own nightmare – you’re walking through a downpour in NYC in shiny dress shoes and suddenly one foot is sump-pumping in rainwater like it’s trying to dry out the city. (Though in fairness, also very hobo-chic, holes in shoe soles.) This [...]

instant pot

Liz bought an Instant Pot. It showed up at our door and I pretended to be happy about it but it should have been stamped with a skull and crossbones and labeled The Death Pot of Fear and Shame because that was my level of anxiety over using it. I am mildly familiar with pressure [...]

tissue bird

My pockets are dusty. How does dust get into the pocket of one’s jeans, you are surely asking yourself right now. Jeans pockets are practically sealed off! And why is dust trying to get in there in the first place? You’d think dust would be struggling to get out of my pocket!  Then I realized [...]

mustard

Well, I spilled mustard on my shirt this morning. Not the Dijon stuff either, but French’s, with that four-alarm-yellow that made it look like somebody sprayed me with plutonium. The mustard ended up on my shirt because I was in a rush (while making my daily cheese sandwich to bring to work which I know [...]

camp-of-the-woods

Christian Family Camp is the kind of thing that, had I had introduced the concept to my younger, atheist self, my younger atheist self would have gagged on his Tootsie Pop. But because our God is a Hey-Let's-Mess-with-Conor-Because-It’s-Oh-So-Funny kind of God, this particular Christian family camp is, today, my favorite week of the year. Camp-of-the-Woods [...]

Camp-of-the-Woods

Christian Family Camp is the kind of thing that, had I had introduced the concept to my younger, atheist self, my younger atheist self would have gagged on his Tootsie Pop. But because our God is a Hey-Let's-Mess-with-Conor-Because-It’s-Oh-So-Funny kind of God, this particular Christian family camp is, today, my favorite week of the year. Camp-of-the-Woods [...]

relational

Liz loves to set people up on blind dates. I am the opposite. Setting people up on blind dates is a phobia of mine. "It's a phobia of yours?" Liz asked.  "Because what if it doesn’t work out?" I pointed out. "So?" "I don't want to be responsible for that." "How are you (she points [...]