Madrid Takes Your Time

"Madrid takes your time," a beautiful man in a bar said to me in Spanish two days ago, extending open palms only to close them and pull them gracefully into his chest. It's the most astute observation I've ever heard about this city.

Bajo La Luna Llena: Solo in Madrid

I have never dined alone at a restaurant. That is, until yesterday. Ordinarily I might have organized a date just like this one - beautiful sights, dessert-for-dinner, a romantic city walk - with a boyfriend, partner, or lover. Instead, I’m enjoying it alone.

Let It Burn

It’s taken me a surprisingly long time to feel ready to write about the wildfires that even now, over two weeks after they started, are devastating Southern California. I currently live in my hometown of Ventura, California, where the Thomas Fire tore through the hills on December 4 and 5.


I had a dream about you last night. It was strange, like all of my dreams this week. Bone-dry winds tend to bring me dreams like these, or it's the smoke in the air.

3 Ways Toxic Masculinity Hurts Men

Ever since the Weinstein allegations made headlines, I've been having conversation after conversation about toxic masculinity and the ways it shows up in all our lives. Conversations about toxic masculinity tend to center on how, through men's behavior, the construct hurts women and gender non-conforming people. That should be our focus, given that those groups are disproportionately harmed by it, but it's important that we address another group suffering under the strictures of toxic masculinity: men. 

The Girl Without a Plan

For my entire life, I have been known as the girl with the plan. So you can imagine that when I found myself curled up on the couch last week, contemplating the fact that I had no job, no partner, and, in a few days' time, no place of my own, I panicked. 

That Which Haunts Me

All right, everybody. The time has come for me to exhume some skeletons. It's Halloween, after all. It is a time when we are all a little closer to that which haunts us. I love this time of year, for it is when I feel most prepared to face my fears. And so I am going to dig up the ghost of a relationship which, through its violence, has made me who I am today.

Why Kesha Matters

I woke up with glitter in my bed. There was glitter on my pillow, in my sheets, and strewn about the carpet. I raised my arm to the morning light and it shimmered violently, the result of overindulgent makeup application to my face and body. My hair was blue and purple and red and in a state of impressive messiness, and my legs were sore from dancing. Kesha would be proud.