There are horse girls and there are Internet horse girls.
To me, these never felt like steps to sprint through on the way to simulating life, but life itself.
As cliché as it’s become to say, I found myself needing this game in a way I could have never accounted for, even with all my years of fanboying.
I am no gentile, but a Jew, with chill Jewish parents, who loves the pepper-and-onion slice at Alfie’s.
It’s very calming, very methodical, very good if, say, someone you love has died, but you know the world cannot stop, and you can’t either.
If I was in the kitchen making candy, usually my mom wasn’t in there screaming or throwing a butter dish at my dad.
All the fashion rules I learned as a girl were informed by the view that women’s bodies are never okay as they are—they always need fixing.
Sea sponges lack heart, lungs, and the ability to move. They perform their ancient tasks because they must.
Breadmaking made me feel purposeful, instead of feeling as if I scarcely had control over anything.
When Etty wrote to herself, I heard her speaking to me, and I took her words to heart.
Most time capsules are enclosed underground, but this one faces the world.
When love and femininity are intertwined, only some of us are expected to do the job of loving.
Sometimes I still think about my suits and the life I could have had. Now I work for myself, and my standard uniform is jeans and a T-shirt.
Platforms like Facebook already act as mediums between the living and deceased.