Every few months, my mother offloads a new raft of memorabilia from my childhood on me. My parents have moved around quite a bit, and so have I, but somehow, they’ve hung on to pictures I drew for my grandmother, get well poems I wrote for my mom when she was in hospital, silly stories I wrote on scrap paper when I…

If he *really* wanted to be all, “Oh, I just share things I like...” then he could say, “Some of y’all have asked me what kinds of things my husband likes to buy me on my birthday, so I’ll share the list I gave him” and then you can “tastemaker” your ass into material oblivion.

The scariest thing here is the way they’re turning racism into a branded cottage industry, where there are special training sessions, special editions of weaponry, special approaches designed to neutralize special audiences... when it’s all actually plain and simple, unequivocal criminal evil.

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It would have been such a better year if none of us knew about MSD, if those kids had only ever been on stage at their school at this point in their lives, and if that drama teacher had only ever had to figure out how to deal with her costume closet, not keeping students alive in a closet.

She has a fantastic support system now, but excellent advice. I’ll check in with her on just that.

I don’t care if you give birth in a Khaleesi costume in bouncy castle filled with lime jello accompanied by the sounds of whale song and ASMR glass-tapping and name your child Ersatz Yodeler, GET ON THAT HERD IMMUNITY.

Thank you. My husband has been an incredibly open and candid teacher with me as he’s gone through his own depression and PTSD, but I’m not always going to get it right, and it’s important when he calls it out, or someone I don’t even know on the internet. I’d rather see people accurately than make up my own picture.

I can’t delete or edit, so give this a kick to the curb and move on to better observations and advice, everyone.

I hear you. I’m sorry I trivialized that.

Okay. No, not everyone is loved, not in a way that can reach them or touch them or that matters in the worst moments, even if I wish it could. It probably feels purely demonstrative or facetious or intangible. I’m not trying to be superficial or crass or to provide something empty or rose-tinted. (I also can’t figure…

Everyone reading this who is struggling: someone loves you this much. Even if it’s just all the dorks on the internet like me who know you have innate value. Hang on, and reach out for the help you need.

You do amazing work in providing that perspective. That’s a huge gift.

The tech sector is demoralizing in their own special way. You practically have to come to work in armor, but your self-knowledge and confidence in what you know and what you can do will be your sword. Sorry if that sounds cheesy AF, but.

I have a friend who works in your field, and it’s so demoralizing. You have to believe extra hard, but I promise you are worth the effort.

I guarantee, what you’re accomplishing is wonderful. You are going to go places.

I’m a writer. I should figure that out.

That means a lot. xo

Ahh thank you.

Thank you so much. xo