As someone constantly working to repair her relationship with food—a relationship which, other than supporting our survival, is a manifestation of that lofty business we call self-love and care—I thought it would be nice, helpful even, to explore the stories behind some of my favorite foods.
Assorted grumblings about the terrible 2-0's.
The constant anxieties I’ve already been facing on a daily basis ramp up, increasing their volume just enough so that the struggle is noticeably worse. I’m not eating less now, only beating myself up more for what I do consume.
Q: What were you doing at midnight last night?
A: GETTING INTO BED LIKE THE DIRTY GIRL I AM.
Because I have writer’s block and surveys are fun!
Today’s list includes: everything Gucci Mane has put out since “Lemonade,” Yelp, and considering pixie cuts “alternative.”
“We are not saving the world here, so be creative and be an artist in your own respect–there’s no need to be mean and holier than thou.” Talking to the lovely Carolyn Murphy about what she learned in her twenties that helped her grow into the woman she is today.
I continue to suspend the reality that inspirational quotes trend towards the cloying and the cliché, earnestly hoping that their repetition will pay off.
Reuniting with my favorite camp counselor years later over breakfast was not something I’d ever expected, but it turned out to be one of those epic gifts of the life cycle that make you stop for a minute and think: wow, this shithole is pretty alright.
Taylor Swift jokes aside, I find my sartorial cravings this fall heavily inclined towards anything red. Bright yet deep—reds you can’t miss, reds you can’t write off as maroon or burgundy—no, RED.
A list of people I do not trust, some more valid than others.