Model. Writer. Plant Killer.
Someone gave me a plant last weekend for my birthday and it’s already dead. I watched it with a familiar confused hesitation as little dry…
Read onSomeone gave me a plant last weekend for my birthday and it’s already dead. I watched it with a familiar confused hesitation as little dry…
Read onThe moment I crammed my slightly wrinkled, vaguely damp, still-sort-of-smelling-like-the-airplane sweatshirt into my purse for the evening, I sensed the inevitability of this moment: Standing…
Read onMaybe it’s that I’m older now, but I’ve got this nasty little habit of being dreadfully hopeful when I meet a guy. In the back…
Read onPeace, serenity, inner calm. My two-year practice of Bikram yoga has provided me with a great many things, most of which have been a true…
Read onApparently Nabisco has just wrapped up a two-month run with their “Cookie Dough” Oreo, which seems as grotesquely redundant as obesity-riddled America would presently demand.…
Read onThe Secret came out when I was 22, just a young and impressionable girl in the throws of a very fickle career in the modeling…
Read onI write to you from the edge of my twenties, my last week before I hit the big 3-0, Monday, March 24th. As a kid,…
Read on“Yellow” came out when I was still in high school, back before I could drive, right about when I probably lost my virginity. I remember…
Read onAmy is hovering over me while I flip through the photos on my iPhone, passing tiny cubes of Brooklyn sunsets, Internet screengrabs, and a rather…
Read onThey’re standing in the corner of a darkly lit room, two older men in the same v-neck cardigan pulled over a button-up shirt — the…
Read onMarco’s brought me over here on the pretense of meeting a dude. “You’ll like Nicholas,” he says. “Right up your alley.” In my “right up…
Read onOver the last six years, I’ve done my fair share of complaining about modeling. The weird bones that have presented themselves on my feet because…
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