Who, me?

The other day I was in a dance store (is that even a word?), getting some teaching clothes. The woman working there asked me where I dance and I said, oh I don’t dance. Actually it was more like this: Oh! No no no no no. I don’t actually DANCE. As if DANCE...

Just another showdown.

You know how in cop shows they never stop and take a moment? We’re having a giant fight about how I’m too close to this case and also (subtext!) how we shouldn’t have slept together and now I’m flipping my hair and marching into the...

The pink door.

My very favorite place to think about that jumbled thing that is culture is at the Playground. It’s been nearly a year since we found the space, and in that time I have watched it transform from a tiny, sweet thing in my head and heart into the most amazing...
The Fluent Self