Feels Category
The first Mother’s Day without you
Posted on May 7, 2014 16 Comments
This morning, I heard your laugh. Six and a half months later and the Alex and Ani website still has the matching Leukemia bracelets I was going to buy us in my shopping cart. I can’t bring myself to take them out. I won’t get to see you Sunday, not even your gravesite. Staten Island […]
Life begins at the end of your comfort zone, and mine ends somewhere around paint-ball
Posted on April 30, 2014 Leave a Comment
Last weekend I made the (totally conscious and sober) decision to go paint-balling with 20 friends, a couple of ex-boyfriends, one ex-boyfriend’s younger brother and some strangers. Anyone who knows me well knows that, while I have negative athletic net-worth, I am (kind of) rich in inner rage (and only kind-of kidding). Hiking aside (not my […]
What it’s like to go viral
Posted on April 23, 2014 17 Comments
“Lol speak for yourself bitch. Stay classy!” – Megan McCunt, lolnowhodoyouthink@lolno.com Going viral is a lot like skydiving. I’ve always wanted to do it, but was never quite sure I had the balls. One day, the Internet pushed me out of that shaky, hypothetical airplane (without warning or a parachute) and the free-fall was equally terrifying, incredible, exhilarating, and awful. Two weeks […]
What it’s like pocket-dialing a dead parent and being emotionally triggered by Five Guys
Posted on April 17, 2014 7 Comments
Update: Four months since this was published and I’m still emotionally triggered by Sister Act. Death is kind of like a bad break-up. There’s a lot of ugly crying, fetal position dry heaves, binge drinking and subsequent after-hours spent reaching for the phone. The only difference is that, this time, there’s no chance of reconcile in the corner of a […]
Treat yourself: An open letter to the Class of 2014
Posted on April 8, 2014 118 Comments
To the Class of 2014, This is it. One month ’till May and, odds are, you’re feeling numb and nauseous. The walls are closing in, all rugs have been pulled out and you’re compulsively spell-checking your resumé (while simultaneously snapchatting, putting off that ten-page paper and planning your next pregame). In six or so weeks you’ll be […]
Click here for feelings
Posted on April 3, 2014 1 Comment
Parts of this were filmed on the boardwalk of a beach that I frequent. So do vendors that sell homemade Jell-O shots out of disposable syringes. Can’t complain about that. P.S. This gave me the feels (and a lady boner).
I’m a writer with nothing to write about
Posted on April 1, 2014 1 Comment
Except dancing on an Alphabet City bar stage to Salt n Pepa, posing outside of Irish Exit because “we’re 21 now…wait, we’re 23,” losing the head of a screwdriver to the cork on the inside of a wine bottle, and that guy from OKCupid who said, “If you were a triangle, you’d be acute one.” Okay, okay. I have […]
An open letter to my tolerance
Posted on March 6, 2014 Leave a Comment
It was midnight on a Saturday as I sat upright, dead sober and straight-faced at a small-town Brooklyn bar. My friends fed money to the tip jar and the jukebox (all rap songs removed by the bar-owner) while I forced back a Bud heavy like it was cough syrup and sulked. This gruesome public display of depression was (and always will be) worse […]
An ode to baggage and “being yourself”
Posted on February 7, 2014 1 Comment
“How far are you from your folks’ place?” asked a way-cooler-than-me 29-year-old punk(ish) band member I was interviewing over an expensive cup of coffee and apartment-talk in Greenpoint. Using the term “folks” made him instantly cooler. That, and his off-center nose ring. “Oh, both my parents are dead.” Thank God this wasn’t a date. His face […]
Sometimes I forget she died
Posted on January 21, 2014 8 Comments
Sometimes I forget she died and it’s not until I stop everything I’m doing that I remember she did. It’s not until I see the president speak, work sixteen hours straight or consider ordering French Onion Soup. It’s not until I find that emory board she was always looking for or the wedding pictures I never […]
Meaghan McGoldrick 