No one act of kindness will bring us peace on earth, and no one boxful of office supplies will cure your friend’s depression. But the gift my friend gave me was more than just a Get Well Soon card in blue wrapping paper. It was a reminder that life is to be appreciated for what it is — even the temporary phases of transition.Read More
When my non-depressed self comes back into my life as if nothing has happened, it feels disingenuous. She tries to connect with me by asking me playful questions like, “So, how’s the love life?” It’s a universal icebreaker, a way for her to learn something juicy about my life. But the appropriate response doesn’t exist for a person whose romantic undertakings have been abysmal. The dating pool is bleak enough to depress a normal person and dating while depressed is another enterprise altogether.Read More
The January 21, 2017 March on Lansing marked my first experience protesting. I showed up without a sign, without a hat, and without a clue what to expect. I worried I’d feel out of place, that there’d be chanting and I wouldn’t know the words, that I’d be questioned about my motives and wouldn’t have a strong enough political education to know how to explain what I was doing there–none of that happened.Read More
I’m announcing it so I can be held fully accountable: my New Year’s resolution is to read a book every week.
We’re more than halfway through January, which means we’re just reaching the point where almost half of New Year’s resolutioners lose their resolve. I’ve read a lot of advice on how to keep your 2017 resolution, but there are three tips I found especially helpful, so I’m condensing them here.Read More
I wondered then, not for the first time, if Amy hated me. Why couldn’t I be more like Barb at the chair next to me who knew exactly which questions were appropriate to ask her stylist about her bunions? For that matter, why didn’t I just ask Amy a damn question?Read More
The first memory I have of stealing a word was when I was ten years old.
It came from a brochure crammed in the pocket behind the driver’s seat in a shuttle bus that was taking my family to a beachfront hotel. “Waves crash rhythmically upon the sandy shoreline,” it advertised. I plucked the word from the page and I tucked the brochure back into its pocket.Read More
My concert tee was tucked neatly into my destroyed jean shorts and my right leg was tattooed with bike chain grease. With my iced beverage in my left hand and my handlebars controlled coolly in the right, it occurred to me that I couldn’t look more like a middle schooler if I tried.Read More
I’m not very good at getting started.
In fact, I’ve gotten up and done four unnecessary tasks since typing that first sentence. Two of those tasks were cups of coffee and two were the resulting bathroom breaks.Read More