the anti-lifestyle blog
We moved from one house to another, not even two miles away, when I was twelve. On the last night in the old house, I wrote a letter that I've since misplaced to remind myself of who I had been when I lived in that house. (I'm not sure how I drew up quite as… Continue reading all the old familiar places
I had just a few simple dreams when I was a child: to meet the Spice Girls, to buy an entire wardrobe from the Limited Too, and to will myself into having perfect vision so I could cast off my Coke-bottle glasses once and for all. Did you know they make miniature cellos for tiny people… Continue reading eyes on the prize
After college, I landed in an apartment that my father once, memorably, called “a warehouse for twentysomethings.” Warehouse is generous: it was a converted four-bedroom with a single, decrepit bathroom and no air conditioner. I found my room on Craigslist shortly after arriving in New York where I discovered quickly and to my chagrin that,… Continue reading a deluxe apartment in the sky
When I was seventeen, the sleepy-eyed 26-year-old sound engineer who taped a microphone cord to the back of my neck every night before I went onstage as Peggy in 42nd Street fell hard for me. “I shouldn't be telling you this,” he'd start, his thumbs pressing the tape into the back of my neck for… Continue reading ain’t nothin’ but a number
This holiday season, I fell into a funk, captured for posterity in a series of journal entries where I asked myself some variation of “what's wrong with me?” I blame Christmas, when the answer to this question is obvious: I don't have access to a baby or a purse dog or a mini-SUV that I… Continue reading dana got run over by a reindeer
“You got Big Green?” my dad used to ask me every time I’d come home for a stretch—first those monthlong winter breaks in college, later a week’s vacation from the office. I’d nod yes, sheepishly, well aware that I didn’t need to bring a suitcase large enough to stash a body in for a weeklong… Continue reading up in the air
A red tank top emblazoned with the word DANCE in rainbow glitter. Baby-blue track pants from the Limited Too that snap up the side. Pastel yellow sneakers for skateboarders, doodled all over with ballpoint-pen stars and hearts and Avril Lavigne lyrics. Beige corduroy bellbottoms. A tiered skirt that falls to mid-calf and soars when you… Continue reading the empress’s new clothes
