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
I have tried to sit down to write this post like a zillion times and then my Anxiety Voice kicks in and gives me the sweats. Like this: Hey, Whitney. No one reads your blog anymore. Literally, no one. You’ve fallen from your position as a recommended humor writer and everyone thinks you suck because […]Read More You’re A Writer, Aren’t You?
This is less a story about bowling and more of a story about failure. The kind of failure that happens even when there are a zillion safeguards in place to make sure you can’t fail. When you fail when literally everything is built to make you succeed. It’s these kind of stories that turn boys […]Read More We Need to Talk About Bowling
Hey, you guys! Quick confession: I’m one of those people who used to have/still struggles with/occasionally kicks the ass of an eating disorder. I used to compulsively weigh myself and take my measurements several times daily. It was like I was looking for proof that the Chipotle burrito I’d annihilated was taking root in my […]Read More My Fitness Tracker is The Devil
The top 5 things I’ve learned in my 25 years on this planet. Man, that’s a challenge. I hope you guys don’t expect me to be like super duper profound right now because all I can think about is how I need to go grocery shopping since literally the only thing I have left to […]Read More A Quarter Century in Review, Part 2
I’ve been 25 for four whole weeks now, without once shaving off all my hair (just the half that’s already shaved, thank you), or buying a sports car, or–more realistically–buying out the local Whole Foods of all the chocolate and chocolate-related foodstuffs and eating them guiltily in a corner while Atreyu looks at me thinking, maybe […]Read More 25: A Quarter Century In Review
Things No One Tells Anxious People About Owning Their Own Home: Buying the home isn’t the expensive part. I mean, yes, it costs a lot of money and the down payment is scary and the mortgage is this looming paper mache monster (made out of bills, obvi) that looks like the sand dune at the […]Read More The Neverending Panic Attack Story
My neuroses were showing today, and not in a oh-look-how-cute-and-eccentric-this-girl-is kind of way, but in a holy-fuck-put-her-in-a-padded-room sort of way. And you know why? Because all of the shrimp are out to get me. I just KNOW it. For lunch today, I had some leftover pasta that had shrimp in it. I know, I know. […]Read More Daily Conversations with Anxiety: Fucking Shrimp, Man.
A week ago, I was on a panel at the AWP Conference. That panel was Why Did You Write That? The Problem of Urgency and I honestly think the Universe wanted to give me some good writing material to work with, as my whole goddamned weekend was a problem of urgency. Let’s get the easy stuff […]Read More The Problem of Urgency: Stories from #AWP15, Part One