Birds In My Box

For the past thirty minutes, I have been sitting at an overrated hipster cafe in the heart of the trendiest and shabbiest part of Los Angeles trying to log on to a painfully slow wireless connection. I’m parked alone at a table on a secluded back patio covered in big, leafy trees gently rustling in the spring air. I feel both casually frustrated and aggressively serene. In the past half hour, an arbitrary internet thingie has captured my Facebook profile, my Instagram handle, my favorite type of donut and my shoe size. Now, this six-dollar cup of watered down chai tea that tastes more like mouthwash is probably going to cost me my identity and my Costco membership.

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Sweat Hog Part II

Now that I’ve beaten down the traffic gods and made my way to yoga class, I hurriedly gather my belongings like a nameless forest creature scurrying to avoid getting eaten by a bear.

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Under Pressure

Today I hiked a mountain in search of a waterfall, in search of clarity, in search of answers. Along my route, I passed rustic wood cabins, black walnut trees bowing graciously in the wind, and a swarm of gnats that I’m pretty sure mistook me for a moving poo emoji.

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Sundays Are For Suckers

Hey! This was a fun Sunday. My house got flooded, my car air conditioning went out in 112 degrees and I got broken up with, via email. There is a giant gaping hole in the middle of my living room floor and I’m beginning to think that the depths of Hell are calling me. I keep sending them to voicemail but the calls are becoming more and more frequent.

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The $800 Donut

I had the optimism you only get when you’ve decided to give up everything to follow a dream and a suntan. I packed only the essentials: a suitcase of shoes, an electric piano and 3 days worth of trail mix. California here I come.

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Hair For Your Enjoyment

Women who play with their hair drive me just a little bit crazy. I am aware this can be a nervous tic, but ladies, you’re lovely just the way you are. But after a recent experience of being down wind from a woman and her shedding ponytail, I felt I needed to get a little bit off my, not yet hairy, chest.

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More Things To Worry About

  I love using paper towels. I feel like it’s the most baller thing I do. How decadent is it to get a clean opportunity to wipe away my dirty problems. But yet, I feel guilty with every towel I tear off that poofy roll. Yes, I buy recycled, and yes it is probably the repurposed […]

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March Madness

I don’t profess to know anything about anything in this world: not computers, not the proper way to cook pasta, not the correct way to pronounce the word, “niche”. But I do wonder, about “sneaking” up on a crook with giant a helicopter in flight.

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