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18 Things from 2018

We’re already three days into 2019. It already feels like it’s going too fast. Just the other day I was making Pigs in a Blanket using homemade gluten free dough and a broken, broil-only toaster oven. I took those said Piggies to a friend’s place, indulging in said food and more for the New Year countdown. How is it already January 3?

Fear by SHTTEFAN | Unsplash

Childhood Nostalgia in A Quiet Place

This essay may contain spoilers. We humans are a noisy a-f bunch. In the first few days since I watched John Krasinski’s A Quiet Place in theaters, I couldn’t help but wince at every sound I made: the clackity-clack of the keyboard while I typed this, the glassware clanging when I put them away, and the cascading swoosh of the water as it flowed over my hands in the sink. It’s all… so… noisy! I

When the Work Starts to Kill You

When I was an undergrad, I knew a career in journalism would likely result in a terrible work-life balance. At least in the beginning but the worst instance of this is happening now, as a communications person for an educational non-profit in Manhattan. It feels worse than when I was working on my master’s degree. I’ve suffered from noticeable body aches, where the pain is concentrated in my lower back, and experienced chronic headaches that

Liza Jane

She was, by all accounts, the cutest dog I’ve ever met. Short, black fur covering her lean body, and a white tip on the tail–all of which turned an interesting palette of grayed black, white, and brown as she got older. Her snout, in relation to her head and body, was the perfect length. Her height: not too tall to be a huge dog, and not too short to be uncomfortably small. She was of

photo: Angelina Litvin/

The Wall dealing with writer's block

I haven’t been keeping up with the weekly writing challenge recently, which is unfortunate since it’s only been six weeks into the year. It feels like months have passed and we’re already on the tail end of 2017. But it’s still February and Trump has been in office for only four weeks. Goddamn. Only four weeks?!

The City Devourer of Souls

I’m a city dweller. I grew up in a city. I’ve lived in the suburbs and I’ve lived in the exurbs. Both were enticing. Rolling fields, green spaces, and beautifully manicured homes and lawns. The busy roadways seem a world away All calm. Quiet. Still. I am a city dweller. That’s what I tell myself. With my near-crippling anxiety, the city would seem like the last place I should be. With all its non-stop activity.

The Monster Starting to realize the problems

I’m standing on the last, narrow step before the sudden drop into the abyss. Or maybe I’ve already fallen. I can’t really tell. And that’s the tricky thing about anxiety. And whatever else might be going on in my head. Some days are okay. Then, like clockwork on the 14th-or-so day, the darkness rolls in. Whatever energy I put into avoiding a full-blown tantrum of angry, emotional outburst is gone. It can’t be contained. Everything

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