Who I Am Now


I got my first tattoo in September. After years of sketching the Golden Gate Bridge on every spare corner of notebook paper, I woke up one morning sure of the decision to commit to its lines for life. My TED coworkers—almost all of whom have tattoos as well—offered their advice, and our site comment moderator recommended an artist in the West Village not far from the office. That Friday I hesitated on the sidewalk out front, intimidated by the bright lights and tough, masculine staff, before stepping through the front door. I was terrified but I was sure. It marks the only moment I’ve been sure of anything this fall. Continue reading

What to Do When the Internet Is Making You Miserable

Is your phone on silent? Good.

Spend an extra ten (fifteen twenty thirty sixty) minutes in the shower and burn it all out of your body. Washing away stress is such a quaint description—scald off all the shit and the sludge and the slurs and the grime. Towel it away and put on your favorite outfit: the nostalgic t-shirt you stole from an ex-boyfriend turned yellow at the neckline, or those tacky “BYE HATER” sweatpants you bought for five dollars at Rainbow during a clearance sale. Or maybe a leather jacket, or that old team jersey. Wear what makes you feel like yourself and run your hands over the fabric, part armor part embrace. Remember that night you met your best friend? Remember that road trip to your new city? That was a good day. This is a good body to live in. Continue reading

My Summer On Lexapro

bed with lights

I did something this Friday that I haven’t done in years. I went bar-hopping.

To be clear: there were only two bars, and I took a break to hunt Pokemon in between them. But I can’t remember the last time I went to more than one bar, let alone more than one loud bar, within a twenty-four hour window. I’d like to say it’s because I’m blossoming into a social butterfly, but it’s actually because I’m medicated. Continue reading