Hope, Self-Care

When Will It End

The thing that’s scary about “adulting” is noticing that this is it. This is the whole world. This is traveling and paying bills.

This is what being marriageable is. And friendship is.

And it’s not bad.

But it sort of… maybe isn’t all that you thought life could be.

And it’s not like you get much better at it. It just keeps happening. You can get better at anticipating it, you can get better at not minding it. But the only thing that really helps is allowing yourself to be amazed and impressed by it.

Feelings, Hope

Things To Look Forward To

I like to read and all, but I have a friend who Loves Books.

Capital L, capital B. Loves. Books.

He’s a writer.

He said that it makes him happy knowing that there are too many books in the world for him to ever read them all. That he’ll get to the end of his life and there will still be books left that he hasn’t read.

I do not agree. I feel like this fact means that when I read a book and don’t like it I’ve made a mistake. For every book I read and dislike I’m missing out on the opportunity to have read 3 books that I loved and couldn’t put down.

But there’s something comforting to me in the idea that there are umpteen feelings in this world that I haven’t felt yet. That though it may take time, though the variety of the feelings until then may be muted, one day I will experience a feeling that is unlike any I’ve had. New.

Something vibrant and alive.


That’ll be so exciting.

Confidence, Hope, Sisterhood

Women Helping Women

Last night I got on the subway and there was a woman sitting down and taking up two seats. She had her shopping bags on the seat next to her so I said “excuse me” and she took the bags down. I looked across the way and there was a couple there grinning, like they had been annoyed she hadn’t taken her bags down ages ago. I sat and was happy.

A few stops later I looked up because there was another young woman leaning over us who nearly fell. She had been looking at the paper that my seat mate was writing on.

This stranger was trying to help the woman next to me work out her math homework.

I offered her my seat and when I looked back at them a few stops later this manicured blonde was giving this woman private math tutoring.

It was such a beautiful sight, this young beautiful woman explain the finer points of fractions to this older stranger.

In a world full of bad, there is still good. Come to New York and see.

Bodies, Dating, Feelings, Hope

Grateful To Be Reading rupi

I’m obsessed with poet/artist/feminist/tear-jerker rupi kaur.

I ordered her book Milk and Honey and am waiting for a quiet moment so I can read it and cry.

In the meantime I stalk her blog.


What beauty. What love. What a terrible world, what a beautiful world she reveals in this world.

My mother texted me last week,

I just realized you’re a millennial. How does that make you feel?

It doesn’t make me feel anything. It’s a buzzword and the definition of it seems to expand by the day.

But knowing that I have something in common with an artist like rupi, even if it’s just the assumption that we have to be somewhat similar in age makes me really proud. It makes me proud to be in a generation with artists who I trust to speak on my behalf.

Consent, Hope

The James Deen Rape Allegations


So this happened apparently.

Which hurts. No matter how much it hurts though, one has to side with anyone who is brave enough to come forward about being a victim.

Whether it’s Ke$ha (even people who choose weird stage names deserve to have their bodies respected) who is facing a potentially career-ending decision and is being incredibly brave anyway.

Or Cosby’s victims who have had their reputations dragged through the mud by people who conflate the character the man plays with the actor himself.

Or friends who have their own reasons to fear retribution, slander and other untold consequences.

But sometimes it’s difficult.

Because we think we know something about the accused. Because the allegations go against our preconceived notions of what that person is like. A friend, a star we’ve seen interviewed, someone we thought spoke our language. And how disappointing is it to be wrong, to be challenged in our belief in goodness?

And yet “James Deen held me down and f—ed me while I said no, stop, used my safeword. I can’t just nod and smile when people bring him up anymore.”

I used the safeword we agreed on and he ignored it. What more should ever need to be said?

I’ve broken up with people for more innocuous forms of treachery.

But it does break my heart. To see someone I trusted fall from grace.

I don’t believe that the pedestal was too tall. It shouldn’t be too much to ask for, a kinky, beautiful Jew who cares about pleasure and respects you at the same time.

I guess we’ll all just have to keep searching for him, and hope that some good and healing can come from this. Perhaps it’ll be the rest of the world learning how to take sexual abuse allegations seriously and swiftly.

My heart bleeds for the people who have been assaulted, whether that be by someone who violated a scenario based on trust, or violated a scenario based on trust, or violated a scenario based on trust.

But we need to remember,

I can regret holding Deen up as a paragon of what a sex partner should be, but I won’t regret my hope that he could have been.

Hope, Media

Mad Max’s Special Way Of Giving Me Hope

I saw Mad Max yesterday. Spoiler alert, it’s more interesting through an environmental lens than a feminist one.

And the couple I saw it with and I didn’t love it. Meh, whatever. They drive a lot. And shoot and keep driving.

But what was striking was this.

I said that everything I’ve read about Mad Max was about how awesome feminist kick-ass it was. And that it was disappointingly not the case.

And he agreed with me.

His girlfriend mentioned something else annoying about it.

And he agreed with her. Emphatically and with additional examples.

He voiced other concerns about the movie and men in general. “Why do men do that?”

“Well, of course you don’t understand. You’re a perfect specimen of man. You give me hope.”

The only dating advice I have to offer is: Expect the guys in your life to be kind and respectful. Don’t make excuses for garbagey behavior—”Oh, that’s just what guys are like.“ It isn’t true. Expect them to be good, treat them like they’re good. And if they’re garbagey, move on. Don’t let your world get cluttered up with people who think they have some gender-based right to be awful.
Rainbow Rowell [x]


Dating, Friendship, Health, Hope, Intimacy, Love

How To Love The Signs

Capricorn: Be trustworthy, consistent, and never flakey. Don’t let them get away with not talking about how they feel, prompt them to express their emotions more often. Be their biggest supporter when it comes to their goals and always make sure they make time for fun and its not all work. Let them have their private time every so often, and help them to de-stress and relax. [x]

There is one person in this world who does all these things.

When I read this list that face popped into my head so fast it almost brought tears to my eyes.

It explains why I care so deeply, they know how to care for me.

There are a lot of love languages and if you’re someone who doesn’t take flowers and chocolate to mean I Love You then sometimes its hard to feel like you’re hearing it enough. It’s surprisingly unsettling when suddenly it feels like someone does know how to communicate with you. Especially when it’s instant, feeling like you’re being heard really is the best thing there is.

Friendship, Hope, Intimacy

Quixoticly Grateful

Lately I’ve been trying to say out loud when I’m grateful for someone or something. It’s a project that always felt worth while and now that I’m in a situation where I’m constantly surrounded by the same people, working and living together, relying on them for support, it feels like the perfect time to try it out for real.

I’m not gonna lie, sometimes I say “Hey, I’m grateful for you today” and get a really strange look. But I’m choosing to believe that the strange factor will wear off soon.

Just because saying “I’m grateful for you today” isn’t a thing everyone does, doesn’t mean that its a thing I should stop doing. That’s what I remind myself.

quixotic [kwik-sot-ik]

(adjective) In our list of most interesting words, quixotic is the most romantic in every sense. To be quixotic means to be excessively romantic and chivalrous; illogical, idealistic, overall dreamy. It is viewed as an over-idealism filled with absurdity.  (via wordsnquotes) [x]

Dating, Hope

Additional Appreciation- Michael

When I was in kindergarten I went to summer camp. And on the bus route was a boy named Michael. Michael and I decided we were boyfriend and girlfriend. But mostly only when no one else was around. We were the last two people to get off the bus usually and the bus driver would let the 3rd to last person off the bus and then wait for Michael to move from his seat in the last row to my seat in the first row, sit down, buckle up, hold hands with me, and then we would move on to his house and then finally my house.

Sometimes the bus driver would comment on how cute we were.

I have a memory of kissing Michael.

I have a memory of watching Michael’s babysitter pick him up from his bus stop and him look at me through the bus window and wonder when he’d see me again. That memory is very sad.

Michael was the first boy who wanted to be around me. And he’d be the only boy from then until about when I got boobs (which is a thing to be honest) who showed it without shame.

Michael taught me that even without boobs some boys want to hang around me just cause i’m worth hanging around and holding hands with. Even if it’s only for one more stop. He would rather stand with me on line than get to be first to ride the ponies. I’m important.

A few months ago I looked up Michael. I only remembered a few facts about him. He had a very specific mole, he grew up in a specific neighborhood, his name was Michael. But facebook is a miraculous thing and i’m pretty sure I found my kindergarten Michael.

I’ve wondered a lot about him over the last few years, what is he doing, does he remember me, would we get along now, is he important in my story.

I found him and he looks like an idiot now.

I didn’t send him a message. I just looked through all his pictures.

But he taught me that I can be important to people who aren’t my parents.

I appreciate that.

Feelings, Hope

Happy New Year

This weekend will be Jewish new years.

I’ve never put a huge amount of stock into new years; solar or lunar.

I have, however, cared about the start of the new school year, the first day of a new job, the meet and greet at a new company.

I put a strange amount of stock in what my morning tea being too sweet might indicate about the coming day. In how the lax audience on Tuesday might say something the shows through Sunday.

I went to a concert tonight of a band I love and see often, and it felt like a new piece starting. I heard songs played live that I haven’t listened to in years. And they were different, they resonated in different ways than they used to. They taught me new things that I can carry into this new chunk of time. It probably won’t be 12 months, but then again if age is just a number then a year is just some time, right?

New years is just a ritual you do every year to remind yourself that time is passing. Well I say that I get to decide what tells me time is passing. I decide how to mark my days and log my hours.

And what better way to celebrate time passing in my life than live music, the thing that make us all feel alive. And ironically it’s how we Jews will be marking the new year this week and how everyone will mark the Gregorian calendar new year in a few months. I guess I’m not that original after all.