Psychology
Live to Die Another Day
Colin Jost has a memoir I haven’t read, but I laugh every time I see the title: “A Very Punchable Face: A Memoir.” There are few people I want to punch in the face more than those who bright-side things. Jost isn’t one of those people (I don’t think…I don’t know him), but his book (…)
Please be seated.
I went to get a flu shot and signed up online to schedule it because I’m a millennial and no I will not “just show up.” The online system asked if I wanted to be on the Texas Immunization Registry and something in my bones felt a familiar wave of “AHH sheeet.” I’ve never been (…)
The music will be wonderful
Something strange happened to me that you’re going to laugh at when I tell you because it’s not *actually* that strange but it jolted me out of whatever funk I’ve been in for weeks if not months: I hung out with someone who was optimistic. Sincerely. Honestly. GENUINELY. Hopeful. His worldview was one of seeing (…)
Coming Home
There are certain questions you get asked ad nauseam when you’ve been divorced. What is your vision for your life? What does the future look like? What do you want? Who are you dating? Are you dating? Are you ok? Do you hate your ex? What happened for real though? Do you feel better now? (…)
Can We Have More of This? On The Skills That Make For a Better Society
To my knowledge, I have never once modeled the behavior of flushing public toilets that were not used by me. My daughter (she’s five) tells me, “There are a lot of poops in the bathroom at school and people just leave them there.” I listened wondering why, of all the things to share about your (…)
On The Privilege of Hiding
There are a few places outside of Texas or California where I will agree to eat tacos. Born and raised in Texas, I am a taco snob; so when a new taco joint opened in Jersey City about 10 or so years ago, I agreed to go reluctantly. There were maybe seven of us at dinner (…)
Exist
One of the things you grow up thinking about when you are the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors is, “What would I have done?” Who would I be? There are things that get discussed fairly openly that you don’t realize are odd until you are exposed to “non-Holocaust” families. Like: How many languages can you speak? (…)
Too Tired
It’s rare that I find myself at a loss of words. But for the past week, I have been frozen. Silent on social media. Silent here with you. Loud in my own personal circles, but frozen inside. After I dropped my daughter off at school this week, I laid on the floor and just felt (…)