Cameron doesn’t know who I am, but I want to save him. I want to be his gay Jesus.
I wasn't supposed to like LA... but something had to give.
As we've all been there once or twice or three times, can we at least laugh about it? Maybe a weird, sad laugh, like, "HA! Ha... haaaaaa."
I’m ready for you, 30. Throw all the Merino wool sweaters and New York Times Real Estate sections you want to at me! You’ll never win!

Mar 7, 2012 at 2:00pm | 66 comments

emily added that last tag
My limited understanding dictates that it’s a sort of upside-down fanny pack with a very, very small zipper. But that doesn't mean I hate it!
Declaring yourself royalty in a culture you aren't a part of has been historically hubristic. Just ask Russia.
bea arthur
In fact, after Bea Arthur died, I had her face tattooed on my arm with the words, Thank You For Being A Friend.
growing up
Post-Facebook, a reunion seems more like a weird war between nostalgic home-towners and those of us who like to think we escaped that weird island.
It is unbearable to sweat as much as I do. At the gym, I go through at least two bandanas per 90-minute workout.