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Showing posts from September, 2016

This Entire Election Is About Gender.

If we’re being honest with each other, I’m glad we’ve reached this point. At least we can talk about what this election is really about. This should not even be a contest. It shouldn’t. Nearly every editorial board in the country including ones that have endorsed Republican candidates for a century, have unequivocally endorsed her. Members of our national security, a former Republican president – pretty much anyone with any knowledge of what it takes to do this job is literally telling us that he is unqualified for the job. Still, he is ahead. He is leading in the polls. Why? Because he has a penis. I’m serious. It’s the only reason he is winning right now. If anyone tells you that they can’t vote for Hillary Clinton because of her email server you should immediately stab yourself in the face with a blunt object. Because that is what progress in America in 2016 looks and feels like. The very fact that this is a contest at all is the definition of a double standar

Buy the Electric Toothbrush and Other Lessons From Your 30s

I am standing in the nail salon staring blankly at the seemingly massive range of colors to choose from. There are dramatic reds and flirty purples and cute pinks and demure soft pinks and those super sparkly ones. There are the fluorescent ones that I imagine you choose if you want to pretend you are a tween or if you actually are a tween. There is the tasteful mauve-ish color my mother would’ve chosen. It is the kind of color that says, “I am a grown up. I know how to do this. You can tell by my toe nail polish color choice.” The only thing worse than choosing any of these colors is not knowing which one to choose. In a moment of fleeting panic I choose some sort of dark color. It’s not black. I don’t want to pretend I’m moody. It is sort of brownish/gray. I guess it is bray. Or grown. It is called “Over the Taupe” which is like the nail salon’s version of a lame dad joke but either way it’s kind of funny when you are four days shy of 39 so I chuckle to myself. The pedicurist lo

A Sick Obsession

Have you ever felt like you were going to faint? Or throw up? Or maybe even have a seizure? Did you stop to think to yourself before you got sick, I’d like to do this in the most public way possible because I believe that being transparent here is the right thing. Or instead did you worry that others would judge you, or perhaps even fear you. So you hid and went somewhere private. It sucks to be sick. It sucks even more to be sick in public. What is it that makes us so scared of sickness in America? Everyone everywhere is whispering about Hillary Clinton’s health and there are hushed tones from people on the news and doctors and campaign surrogates and people in my Facebook feed and all of us are so worried and I literally don’t understand. Is it because we think sick people can’t lead? Is it because we think sick people aren’t strong? As I watch the news, I’m genuinely stunned by this obsession over Hillary Clinton’s health. I would expect her opponent and some well-seasone

Living History

Here. 9/11 happens to me right here. In this apartment in this room where I sat, half dressed for interviews I would never go to, in a city that I barely knew wondering to myself, is this how I die? Is this how the world ends? There is a vast difference between learning about history and living it. September 11 th taught me that. I read somewhere recently that for the first time incoming high school freshman will learn about this day having been born after it occurred. They will study it, they will learn through the lenses and gifts of time and perspective about what we did, what we should have done, how it looks from a distance. But for those of us who lived it no matter how much time passes it will never be historical. We will always be there in that moment. Even now, today, fifteen years later I am there and all I have are questions and no answers. And no one else has answers. Not even people on television and those people are always at least supposed to pretend like t