Feels Category

Dear Notebook: a seventh-grader’s guide to abortion, Good Charlotte and the real world

Moving is hard. I knew that. I’ve seen Casper. I saw it coming. What I didn’t see coming (besides the blizzard that fucked my U-Haul)? It being ten times harder (times the square root) when you’ve got your own shit, your parents’ shit and their parents’ shit. Three months, 50-something garbage bags, 25 reinforced boxes […]

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Still not OK, OKCupid

A friendly follow-up to Not OK, OKCupid. Dear OKCupid, I was wrong. It’s definitely you. Stop that right now. Oh. Thanks! Definitely love your smile. That depends. Does publishing it on the Internet and hoping it goes viral count? No, but I see you’ve already changed your mind.

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“Is that mold?”: the two week live-blog of my first apartment

DAY ONE: The family before us fled to Egypt, locking the only set of keys inside our new apartment and prompting me to cry in front of a locksmith because it’s New Year’s Day, management’s closed and “God damnit I pay to live here now.” They left us 60 cents, two wine glasses and a […]

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“I will not touch my friends’ tits” and other New Year vows

This year, I rang in the New Year at a pub called Pour House (probably some sort of a sign). I took a weekend class on Tarentino, built a bar out of snow and saw a friend nearly break his neck expressing himself on ecstasy some Sunday afternoon. I saw Swedish House Mafia from 100 stories up at […]

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Is there wi-fi in heaven?

I wonder if my mom had made it if I’d ever let her read my blog. Sure, my entire extended family reads it (thank you, Facebook) but there’s something about me grappling with my own sexuality and temperament that says she wouldn’t approve (or at least be fairly itchy). I’m not sure I would’ve wanted her to know I […]

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I used to make videos of my friends drinking in parking lots

I almost used this platform to post a video produced in January of 2009 complete with Comic Sans, Sum 41 and Smirnoff Ice. Instead, I went with a more recent project that actually means something to me (aw, feelings). Cheers to public debauchery, flipping each other off and (somehow) never getting arrested. Special shout-out to my […]

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My friend made art with my feet

Check out this killer digital collage print my girlfriend made out of my old MRIs and X-Rays. Who knew something worthwhile would come from jumping feet-first into a three-foot pool, underage drinking a handle of Svedka and spending senior year of high school in a wheelchair. Click here to see more insides of people/crazy good art/her pretty face.

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A letter from my mother to my mother at age thirteen

“Luv ya, myself” gets me every time (and I have no idea who Rita is).

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“One pubic hair is stronger than the Brooklyn Bridge” and other things I heard this weekend

Sunday night, my childhood friend-turned-college friend-turned-forever friend and I rode the subway home from a weekend spent keeping up with college. Revisiting our old stomping grounds and senior friends coming up on their last semesters, we were met by rain, snow and shame as everyone around us celebrated some semi-formal/the last full weekend before finals. […]

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A letter to my 18-year-old self

Originally published by IonianNews.com on December 5, 2012. One year and one day later, these life lessons still strongly apply (although I’d also suggest wearing flats to senior formal). Dear Meaghan, Mazel tov, high school is over. Somehow you managed to make it four long years in gray man-pants and itchy knee socks. Congratulations, you survived […]

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