“After nearly 15 years of practice, I can assure you that there is a specific look reserved for the moment someone realizes you are fragile. I used to prep prospective partners for this when first dating them. “I have this illness,” I’d explain. “I may look okay now. This is the fun part. We are drinking gin and laughing and my hair smells nice and we’re telling each other our greatest hits stories but one day I will inevitably drop off the radar or my medication will fail. I’ll find myself in need of a gastroenterologist, a rheumatologist, and a steady hand.” My hair does not smell nice at the hospital. They do not serve gin there, but most of the time there’s morphine.”
— Hello! I wrote about love and autoimmune disease for The Hairpin. Go take a look here

Almost married. 

Photo by the incomparable Sarah Jurado.

“Kate Moss was famously quoted as saying “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels,” but let me tell you, so many things taste better than skinny. A morning latte made with whole milk, for example. A warm twice-baked almond croissant, chicharones, dark chocolate with sea salt, pork dumplings, a giant steak salad with blue cheese, a slice of pizza at 2 am, a dry vodka martini with a twist. But skinny isn’t a taste. It’s a feeling. From what I gather, skinny is supposed to feel like your dream job, a compliment from a stranger, telling someone you love them for the first time, or an IV drip of morphine and sunshine. All of this, of course, is total bullshit. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.”
— Hello! I wrote a thing about working in the food industry and struggling with body image for xoJane. You can read more here.

You're Doing it Wrong

  • Me: Did you just do an image search for pizza?
  • Him: No, I did an image search for DELICIOUS pizza.
“He reminded me of one great thing, though, which is that when he begins tracing and tickling your bare back absent-mindedly one night, you lying on your stomach next to him, and you mutter that you love when he does that, the only correct response for any human, ever, is to murmur “Oh yeah?” and then continue doing it for endless minutes. He didn’t have to, but he did, because that is what you do when someone reveals their favorite simple thing. You do it. It costs you nothing.”

Oh, Father’s Day! I can’t tell my whole story without including my dad, Ron, who passed away when I was 13. Here he is at my fifth birthday party being a really great sport as Bubbles the Clown cracks a confetti egg over his head. I wish he was here every day, but especially on days like this.

Tango, Crown, Birthday Cake, Panda

I’m proud to be an emoticon, where at least I know I’m free. 

30 is the New 60

Realizing that I’ve reached the age where I’m not sure how to click out of pop-up ads.

Because everyone deserves to feel just like this.