Today is my sixth year anniversary with this blog. I’ve been writing here for longer than I have ever shared my heart with another person, though I could easily say I’ve been sharing my heart with the people who still read this. All six of you (seven, if you count my mom). When I started […]Read More Resting in Pieces
Missing out on the job I’ve wanted for five years knocked the air out of my lungs. The Big Breakup Heartbreak pushed me to the ground and rubbed my face in the dirt. It left me feeling disoriented and unsure of myself. The Little Breakup Heartbreak gouged open old wounds and left me scared of […]Read More Perspective
It’s been two months since the Big Breakup Heartbreak and less than twenty-four hours since the Little Heartbreak. This isn’t some sort of “my one true love has been stolen from me forever” heartbreak, because I think you have several true loves in your lifetime: people who teach you things like how to steal diamonds, […]Read More Little Heartbreak
I have officially been single for one month. Though I don’t know what “officially” means, since the relationship never was confirmed on Facebook, so I couldn’t make it officially “over” via Facebook either. . . If a relationship status is never updated, does that mean the relationship wasn’t real? I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Kind of. […]Read More Happy Monthaversary to Me!
This is the list of things to do when you find yourself heartbroken, or bored, or depressed, or lonely, or hungry, or slightly (or extremely!) constipated: 1.Write about it. Write in your journal until your wrist hurts and you worry that you’ve developed carpal tunnel or arthritis or gangrene or leprosy. Then crack your wrist […]Read More The To-Do List
Mid-last week, I decided to make a list about all the Great Things About Being Single Again. The number one thing on that list? How much longer a tube of toothpaste will last me. When I discovered that, I laughed for a solid eight minutes. It was one of those side-aching, cheeks-hurting kind of laughs. […]Read More Hello. It’s Me.
It began, as it always does, with Florida–the nation’s phallus. Around 7:30PM on November 8th, I paced around my mom’s kitchen eating ice cream and praying to whichever God likes girls who stress-eat ice cream while pacing around their mother’s kitchens. When Florida went for Trump, I started sobbing. I know that I tend to […]Read More The Downward Spiral
Back when I was a delusional college student, I used to dream about becoming a professional partygoer, like Tila Tequila, minus the tequila and the whining. I was enthralled by the idea of getting paid to attend parties and make the parties cooler. Here’s the thing. Even in college, I hated parties. I don’t like crowds. […]Read More Now What?
I turned 26 last Friday. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, but Whitney! You don’t act a day over 12! Or look a day over however much younger you would like to look or act! Thanks, reader. That makes me feel really good about myself! I DON’T look a day over fetus. I spent my […]Read More 26 is The New 25
It’s like Asimov’s I, Robot only less fun and the movie adaptation would star Michael Cera in drag as me instead of Will Smith as the lead guy. I’ve been exhausted lately. Not post-blood clots nap time exhausted, but so tired that I actually have to lie down or I will pass out. The fatigue starts behind […]Read More I, Hypochondriac