I’m not sure why we even try, when no one in the world can write a prettier email than my friend Dennis.
Last evening, I ventured with my drunken friends into a place we’d never been, that was very reminiscent of a public radio dance party; pretty hipster kids in their skinny jeans and bizarre getups [...]
The first night after we fought I stayed at the local Holiday Inn (aaafter party!), and ever since I’ve been on a futon mattress on the floor of my friend Tamar’s spare room. It’s otherwise empty, except for my piles of clothes, comb and toothbrush, and the two windows open to a large leafy tree [...]
The afternoon after we fought, I thought I wouldn’t be able to do anything but watch stupid television. It’s a crappy coping technique I picked up recently, and we’ve even talked about it, how it doesn’t actually fix anything, or bode particularly well. But what else is there for the housebound, the mindstuck? I curl [...]
I think it’s a pride thing: forcing oneself to finish some unreadable book. Telling yourself you’re going to finish it, and what’s more, you’re going to learn to like it along the way: because Jhumpa Lahiri was quoted on the cover as finding it enchanting and if you’re not similarly charmed (no, more charmed! Try [...]
I credit stumbling into last year’s The Slutcracker with a lot. I feel like I was reluctantly inching down a certain life path, with its certain self-righteous opinions about what it meant to be an adult, and educated, and female, and feminist, and professional, and what all of that looked like. And then this group [...]