Shitty Feminist

I'm a pretty shitty feminist. I don't ground my writing in feminism because I'm deeply afraid of doing the whole thing wrong. Like I'm not academic enough. I don't see the stamp of patriarchy & oppression in places where it's so obvious to other feminists. But, look, I'm 45 years old. And I'm focused on... Continue Reading →

Under Pressure

At 16 years old, I found myself behind a cash register, with the beep beep beep of the scanner droning on. It was my very first job--at Target--and I was god-awful at it. 

Here's the thing: I cannot be rushed. It's like I have a biological something that creates an inverse relationship between urgency & the speed at which I move. 

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