Michael Jordan caught a lot of flack for his Hall of Fame acceptance speech because he focused on people who he believed never believed enough in him. He aimed his gratitude at those people who’d been there for him and gave him a shot, but wasted too many words, people thought, on remembering the slights, the benchings, the roster cuts. His career, he conveyed in thousands of words, was a work of greatness, but it was also one of spite. Continue reading “Spite is my ruling planet”
Hookup with a rando (rumoured).
Dance like no one’s watching. Or like everyone is, whatever.
Run until your knees melt out of your skin.
Write everything down. Don’t stop until you are no longer playing your last meeting on loop.
Run away. Far, far away. Preferably somewhere that has nothing to do with him, like an air raid shelter, or your dad’s house.
Drink a bottle or two of wine a night. Or have a tequila cocktail or three. Different strokes…
Throw things. Smash things. Hit things. [In the safety of a room equipped with safety goggles and supervision.]
Do not, under any circumstances, listen to Linda Ronstadt. Just trust me. Don’t do it.
Imagine you’re Angela Bassett in this gif, and approach each day like you’re going to set everything on fire.
Here endeth the lesson.
This week felt fractured and unproductive. My days were dotted with spontaneous bouts of tears that I tolerated and did my best to mop up without ruining my eyeliner. Continue reading “12.22.09”
Hold on. The recession was all the Fed and ECB’s fault and had nothing to do with the “barons of Wall Street”? That we’re calling them barons, first of all, suggests they might be more involved than you are willing to admit. Continue reading “Thoughts I had on reading a paper about monetary policy”
My original itinerary for this half marathon looked a lot like previous itineraries: JFK-SFO for an evening, then a four hour car ride north to Arcadia. Back down to Oakland, then to LA, then to Texas to see my boyfriend for a couple of days, and then back through Atlanta on the way to New York.
The breakup skewered this plan. But this also means THANK JESUS I DON’T HAVE TO GO THROUGH ATLANTA.
I’ll spend 48 hours in Mississippi before I’ll go through Atlanta-Hartsfield on a layover. Continue reading “Change of plans “
Subservience of any kind is death to the spirit.
— Alice Walker
My half-birthday is on Sunday. I’m just saying, this would be the most thoughtful gift. 😉