Words
[CONFESSAY] Cleanliness is Next to Cultiness

[CONFESSAY] Cleanliness is Next to Cultiness

In May, I left an A.A/twelve-step-based residential treatment center after a two-month stay. It was an intense, rewarding experience, but left me feeling pretty confused. I learned a lot about myself, but I also learned that A.A/N.A in its entirety is not for me. In the same sense that the fundamentals of Christianity are both...
[ESSAY] On Intimacy

[ESSAY] On Intimacy

Intimacy is focused, and I don’t know how to stay still. I read about black holes, and it said that once you cross the event horizon, you will eventually be broken apart. Every day, when I wake up, I fall into myself. My life is like this: I’m learning new programs, there are tectonic shifts,...
[TRUE STORY] The First Time I Took Honesty Too Far And Humiliated My Mom

[TRUE STORY] The First Time I Took Honesty Too Far And Humiliated My Mom

Lying was one of my finest skills as a child.  Once, during Black History Month, I proudly proclaimed to my first grade class that my Aunt Karen was married to a black man.  I am part of an interracial family! I shouted, all blonde hair and no teeth. This was news to my Uncle, however,...
[ROSES ARE RED] Honey, The World Is Your Cup Holder

[ROSES ARE RED] Honey, The World Is Your Cup Holder

It is instilled in some women at a young age that the world is their oyster. A daughter of a multi-tasking, chardonnay-swilling mama, I was taught “Hey Honey, The World Is Your Cup Holder.” Here are some everyday objects that also double as cup holders; convenient and unlikely receptacles for your stemless wine glass when you can’t muster the will to lean forward six...
[TRUE STORY] Faith Is A Whore

[TRUE STORY] Faith Is A Whore

I grew up in an Athiest family. We never prayed or went to church, except for the time my uncle invited us to Midnight Mass on Christmas Day. We reluctantly dolled ourselves up in our churchiest clothes and practiced well-meaning smiles, hoping our secularity wouldn’t be detected. I was nine, with so little exposure to...
[PEN PAL] On Thanksgiving, A Plea For Life From Your Feelings To You

[PEN PAL] On Thanksgiving, A Plea For Life From Your Feelings To You

Hey, it’s me, your feelings. How are you? I guess I don’t really need to ask, since I sort of dictate that… I know you’ve been thinking a lot about me lately, and I appreciate the attention. I really do. But I know what’s going to happen next, and so I think we need to talk before things get...
[RIP] Roxy Roknian of Broadist

[RIP] Roxy Roknian of Broadist

On Sunday, the Internet lost an important voice, feminism lost an ally, the law lost a soon-to-be great, and I lost a friend. Her site Broadist (co-founded by Roxy and Caroline Shadood) was a fashion blog, but it was also much, much more. It was a site about female empowerment, about positive body image, about...
[HUNTERS & GATHERERS] A Short Story About "Happiness"

[HUNTERS & GATHERERS] A Short Story About “Happiness”

Sometimes we write stuff we have no outlet for, and then you guys get to read it here. This is a story inspired by a time I had to write an article about “happiness” and nearly had a meltdown while attempting to do so. This is the mediocre outcome of that.  What is happiness? What the...
[ROSES ARE RED] A Short Story/Poem Thing About Catching Up

[ROSES ARE RED] A Short Story/Poem Thing About Catching Up

Um, so, yea, as we mentioned a few weeks ago, we post poetry-type-stuff here sometimes (especially when we haven’t had the time to do a full feature and are transitioning into working from home). If you’d prefer to just read my essays about sex, relationships, and music, that’s okay too, I won’t be offended. Enjoy?...
[ROSES ARE RED] A Poem About Car Rides And Baby Hairs

[ROSES ARE RED] A Poem About Car Rides And Baby Hairs

Apparently we’re posting poetry now. Don’t judge us…  I liked you from the beginning, because you always offered to drive, even when we took my car out, and yours had been towed due to unpaid parking tickets.You said it made you feel like a man, because we didn’t have much money back then, and you couldn’t buy me...