Someone(s) in Memphis have a new site and I just found out about it a few minutes ago but I’ve already decided it’s the best thing ever and I even submitted a story (!!!). It’s called I Showered for Nothing and it’s transcendent. If I don’t already know who’s behind it, I definitely want to meet who’s behind it.
I had a Plenty of Fish profile once upon a time. My username? Hipsterectomy. Yeah, yeah. You wish you thought of it. Anyway. If you’re a girl and you put up even a semi-flattering photo of yourself, you get a shitton of worthless one-word e-mails from dudes (subject line: “hi,” e-mail body: “hi”), even ones who, were they to actually read your profile, would see they are not compatible in any way with you. It’s…
That’s been the name of my game lately, it seems. My sister’s ordeal has been its own beast, and one that has not yet been fully tamed. She’s coping. I’m coping. We’re all coping. We are mining hope like it’s our job and so far it has either actually helped or made it seem that way. But there is other uncertainty around. It swirls up from the bottom like creamer in my coffee, making things…
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