keeping ghosts
I had pairs of cleats that sat in my closet unused but moved from dorm room to college house and so forth, because I couldn’t imagine getting rid of my Neymars I saved all my babysitting money for.
Did I Blow the Chance I Had to Meet My Childhood Hero?
I kept practicing throughout the day, like “Hey Abby, big fan, could I grab a picture?”
Cake For Breakfast
We wanted to taste everything the restaurant had to offer.
I Was Wrong About Living Alone
I missed sharing a gallon of oat milk—because who really goes through a whole gallon of alternative milk alone?
Fest Countdown
I got excited about all the things we are going to be doing at the festival, the conversations I haven’t had yet, all the Diet Cokes I am going to drink.
Marathon Not a Sprint
The line becomes part of the experience, a lesson in patience wrapped in air conditioning and Mickey Ears wallpaper.
boys who play with words.
Our melting pot is being emptied out, and they are sifting through the ingredients.
Collective Joy at the State Fair
I always have a healthy fear of fish cooked in a truck, but this was a revelation.
Freight Train Tendencies
Like the little playground dictator I was, I responded, “Yes, you do. Here is your role.”
A Love Letter to Letraset
I swear I see the letters breathe.
Tiny Notebook
I felt the performance begin—that stool was a stage and I was an actor.
Research Offered Me a Future
My birth story is one that my mom shares every year —she saw Lorelai do it in a Gilmore Girls episode.
How to Throw a Great Party
You need the right blend of ‘we all know each other, but there is room for something wild to happen.’
First Date Formula from an Armchair Anthropologist
Ann walked him the ten minutes to his apartment in the opposite direction of hers—chivalry isn’t dead, folks.
2024 Confessions
I ghosted my therapist.
Try Dancing in the Center
There is no faking the spark when you let yourself go in the music.
Poets Are Weird ft. Pádraig O Tuama
It’s for those times you need to be alone, and it’s to be consumed communally. That is weird.
Heartbreak is a Ghost. I’ll Say It
Like all good reckonings, there’s got to be a soundtrack.
Ten Places and Spaces I’ve Split My Pants
My shorts were unprepared for a great DJ and a circle of people asking me to vogue.
The Triumphant Joy of Being Thrown to the Ground by a Linebacker
My colon felt like it was in my spleen.
