I have important things I want to blog about -- rape culture, the U.S. election, bullying, compassion, art -- but it has been a painful day for me, physically, and I'm feeling overwhelmed by everything. I'm fine, I'm fine; how often do we all say that to each other?...
Even raised in a feminist household, I was not taught much about setting personal boundaries. It's surprising to me how late I learned some of the basic steps to take regarding personal mental health, the things the guard against being abused and/or taken advantage...
If you want to understand the impact of racism and classism in a smaller city, ride public transportation. That is my advice to photographers, writers, artists, social workers, middle-class activists, and alt-right conservatives. I suppose it's true for metropolises...
There is a distinct, panicked silence that accompanies the wait for a hurricane to strike. I mean, once the panic is over, once the supplies are put safely away on high shelves or in air-tight coolers, once you have bloodied your fists for the last jar of peanut...
I love advice. I love receiving it. I love giving it. I love reading "how to" posts and "life hack" sites and pointing friends to them, too. But unasked-for advice is an insidious evil, ruining friendships and destroying family relations and generally fucking shit up....
I really wanted to answer another friend's prompt or write something deep and profound for today's post, but earlier as I was editing one of my books I was also chatting with my friend Ada about "important sh!t". We know what important sh!t is, I mean, she's a mother...
"The pleasures of knowing one's own mind and not caring what most other people think." ClaireM actually left me two prompts, and I'll do the other one eventually, but this one I think is topical to my life right now. Why? Because this is where I'm headed; I'm not...
I had a migraine that ranged over the 15th and 16th, which was entirely mysterious and inexplicable...until I remembered that September 15th is my mother's death day. And, seriously: this happens every fucking year. I forget, I get a migraine or something similar...
"Why admitting you have ever considered suicide is still taboo in the face of mental health awareness." Short answer: it scares the shit out of people. Long involved answer: I have considered suicide, myself. Those moments were a long time ago now, but I do remember...