Year in Review

Here are four things I gave up this year. 

This year, we have witnessed the mainstreaming of the idea that most, perhaps all, things are being orchestrated by shadowy forces outside of our control.

By all accounts, 2016 was an abysmal year. That's why I found myself losing hours on Instagram to soothing images of slime. 

I hated myself when I benched 405, agonized over form while squatting 500, and regretted the first 33 years of my life even as I deadlifted 650. I had never lifted heavier or been unhappier.

Fandom allows us to locate some much-needed normalcy without ever accepting the current state of things as normal. 

Throughout my twenties and thirties I made dark jokes about the life expectancy of my breasts.

It wasn’t until my early twenties that I realized I’d failed at whiteness. And because I’d spent my childhood working so hard at it, I had failed at Asianness, too.

 Aging isn’t quite as horrific as I’d feared, but it’s definitely not as fun as staying young. 

Epic death is too good for us.