I recently read two books written by people I know. (It's cool. I'm fine! I love the choices I've made and that I expend my creative energy tweeting on behalf of a corporation.) The first, a collection of essays, was by a friend with whom I share not one but two alma maters: our performing… Continue reading writers: they’re just like us!
BODY
Spotify's Throwback Thursday playlist was Pride-themed last week. This post is not about how many of the songs on the playlist I had sung (4), choreographed (2), or danced to (7), but even setting the memory of my star* turn as Alexi Darling in the 2009 Vassar College production of "Rent" aside, I associate many… Continue reading BODY
31
I thought this morning about the past year and God help me but the first thing that came to mind — from a year when I got engaged, moved to London, and survived at least the first wave of a global pandemic — was being pitched by a San Francisco ad agency. They took us… Continue reading 31
some thoughts on cooking
The Meryl Streep onion-slicing montage in "Julie & Julia," a movie I watched once eleven years ago, haunts me...
insult and quarantinjury
The other week I read some WSJ puff piece about how locked-down Americans doing burpees for the first time keep spraining their ankles. I rolled my eyes at all the bumbling idiots, like I'm not someone who once tweaked my neck so badly shampooing my hair that I couldn't turn my head for a week,… Continue reading insult and quarantinjury
i love the passing of time
I mostly find it futile to read about other people's preposterous ideas of the future, although it feels silly to say that from here in the middle of a pandemic during which we entertain ourselves by beaming our faces into one another's homes.
the name is the thing
Maybe it's magical thinking: If I don't name it, it can't be. It's a backwards Ursula K. LeGuin.
a girl can dream
I tend to have vivid, emotionally draining dreams that ratchet up in intensity until, just before I wake up, I realize with tremendous relief that I'm dreaming. So yes, that's what I'm waiting for here: the end of the dream, or the deus ex machina, or whatever it is that doesn't involve me sitting in… Continue reading a girl can dream
no pomp due to circumstance
To the second-semester senior who has been unceremoniously dispatched home by the coronavirus, just when you were about to depart on your victory lap...
creeping crud
I used to joke that I would regret all of the postapocalyptic novels I read in my twenties and here I am, regretting all of the postapocalyptic novels I read in my twenties.
