I’m actually having an issue with loving and understanding someone who voted for Trump. A couple years ago, I began communicating on Google+ with a devoutly Catholic girl a few years older than me. At the time, I was a severely damaged, vehemently anti-abortion 14-year-old. We met on the basis of us both being…

I have a short documentary on Malcolm X’s ideas that’s due in five days. If you have the time and if he’s really your hero, please tell me everything you know. With links.

We are relying on a system based upon the elitist philosophy of a man who most of us only know as a character in a musical (and who we would have hated with the heat of a thousand suns if he were alive today, but instead idealize him because he died 212 years ago for bullshit reasons) to save us.

I’ve had that same thought. Trump is (to say the absolute LEAST) Bush-esque. I fear we will have another 9/11 before 2017 is over.

Wait, it would have actually been PSA-worthy if the girl was of a different race? When it’s almost 2017?

Holy shit, I thought that the big reveal was going to be that it was another guy writing the messages on the desk, or that they’d fall in love and be separated through heartbreaking circumstances, or something!

Hi Jezzies, I took my SAT today! (Yes, I am the baby of the Jezebel sisterhood. I’m seeking the advice of those older and wiser.)

This has nothing to do with the election, but last night I had a dream that my dad dumped everything off my desk, causing my eyeshadow palette to break, and I screamed at him. Then I “woke up” in bed, and I checked my eyeshadow while assuring myself “okay, this is real life”, but it was EVEN MORE broken. I went into a…

HEY! Well done steak is fine. Sorry I don’t want blood running in my mouth like a wolf or a lion.

How quaint that you assume we’re all going to live that long.

I’m not a history writer. I’m a teenager who’s obsessed with history and writes a lot. The article was a “youth voices” thing that HuffPo is doing.

I spent Thanksgiving at my uncle’s house. I didn’t expect that my mother’s entire side of the family would be along for the ride, but it was a lot of fun, except for a few incidents that are bothering the fuck out of me:

Isn’t Oprah only, like, 55 years old? She’s not ill, is she?

“SIT DOWN, TRUMP, YOU FAT MOTHERF...”

I actually feel you on the [half-] orphan’s existential fear. My mother died when I was 15, and it took me about a year to realize that her death would not become mine. She was only 45, so I too have this nagging voice saying “your life is more than a third over”. I was anxious as a little kid as well- I remember…

Not even close to perimenopause- actually reached menarche <5 years ago- but I was overemotional before then, I’m overemotional now and I will be overemotional until the day I die. I cried over a story a teacher’s aide told me about a guy who was cut in half by a train and the driver kept the train on him so he would…

Ugh, thatvsucks.

It took me a year and two months to define my tenth grade relationship, so I am definitely not the correct person to ask. I was too affected by seeing my peers fall in love in a weekend, revolve their whole lives around their boy/girlfriend (I wanted to MURDER one of my friends when she didn’t come to my Sweet 16…

I was about to say, isn’t it funny that people are bellyaching about respecting the POTUS/VPOTUS because of an incident involving a musical that literally includes a President being called “you fat motherfucker”?

This one might hit a little too close to home because it’s literally my life, but that’s why I can’t wait to see it. See, I’m not the only one spending my teen years in a perpetual state of longing and fragility. cries in a corner