I quit Twitter a few weeks ago. My friend Ben saw my anxiety publicly flare up in an argument with a Not-All-Man, sent me the “It’s Time to Stop” GIF on Facebook Messenger, and demanded my login information so he could change it all and lock me out. I did not argue or protest. It … Continue reading Figuring things out and finally leaving Twitter (again)
When I moved to New York City in the fall of 2016, there were a lot of things I suddenly needed to adjust to. I hadn’t been in school for six years. I had never lived on campus before. I had never lived alone. I felt like during the eight and a half months I … Continue reading Things I wish I knew before I started grad school (and j-school again)
In the midst of thinking about all the bad things that happened in 2016, it was easy to forget the good things that happened, and even feel a little guilty if your personal life the past 365 days did not resemble a garbage fire.
in all this hand-wringing about what the media did wrong, I find it pretty annoying that journalism organizations and journalists themselves are being blamed for not living outside of major cities.
Almost since the first day I stepped on campus, I have thought, “What am I doing here at Columbia? Why does this program feel like such a struggle? Do I even belong at this school?”
The “parody” account with my name and photos was taken down late last week. Even though it was only one account, I felt physically and emotionally affected by it for a few days.
Today, a friend alerted me a fake Twitter account had been created with photos I had posted. Here is what that looks like.
I started blogging 15 years ago. There’s value in writing something longer, with actual paragraphs and bigger thoughts. It’s easier to read and find older blog posts. And because they take longer to put together, blog posts feel less disposable compared to Tweets.
Almost every modern woman goes through the struggle described in the Cool Girl rant of the book Gone Girl. “Why don’t men like me? Am I not thin/funny/smart/chill/hot/guy-like enough? Do I remind them too much of their mothers? Do I come off as too needy or not interesting enough for them? What the hell is the issue?”
No matter what, moving is expensive. There’s the cost of time: sorting through your belongings, figuring out what you want to put in storage, what you want to bring to the new place, what you’re going to sell at a garage sale or donate and give away.