First Date.

About this time last year, I was busy grinding on a frat boy, barefoot, in a $400 ball gown. If you were looking for me, I apologize—I lost track of…

Love Letter.

In 9th grade, I wrote a love letter to a boy. I imagine it was entirely dramatic—depicting my teenage longing and the color of his eyes with gag-inducing metaphors—but genuinely heartfelt, and honest nonetheless….

Liar. Liar.

If there is one thing our parents raised us to be, it’s honest people. Growing up, we were given the space and the freedom to make our own mistakes with…

Mixed Feelings.

I met him in a room filled with words handwritten by the lonely and the suffering, unaware that eventually, I’d thread him through my own pages, weaving the fabric of…

Poney.

At 14, having barely breached teenagehood, I’d never been in love. Then a Chocolate Lab stole my heart.

Inked: Part II.

Six weeks ago, I was inked. After dizzying myself with concept-crafting, note-taking, researching artists, perusing portfolios, and coming to terms with having my body permanently marked, I offered myself as a…

V-Day.

As a uniquely named child, I lost when it came to one of life’s cheaper thrills; monogrammed heart keychains. Dig as I may through the spinning tower of trinkets, I…

Inked: Part I.

Since my breach of adulthood, I’ve surprised my peers with my lack of ink. Maybe they saw my nose ring as a precursor for something more daring. Perhaps a tattoo was…

2014.

Each December, I compile a list of things to do and accomplish during the upcoming year. Some things are vague and perpetual, some things are oddly specific. Regardless of its contents,…