I miss the ritual of taping songs off the radio: looking for a fresh blank tape, not finding one and having to choose which cassette to sacrifice to the cause, Scotch-taping over the holes along the top to render it able to record again, and situating myself in front of the radio, waiting waiting waiting for the DJ to play my favorite songs so I could record them to listen to later.

Pt. I can be found here. When I discovered that my new friend, Carrie, had been a finalist in the 1992 Sassiest Girl in America contest, I screamed and freaked out and she handled it much more nicely than the 1990 Sassiest Girl, who to be fair was not my friend and I had ambushed her in the creepiest way possible on the first day of school. She showed me the magazine, and I remembered…

"The Least Sassy Girl in America, Pt. II" will run later today.

From a very young age, what I wanted most in the world was to be discovered by and taken in hand by an older, wiser, cooler, female mentor. My mother has always been very supportive and encouraging, which I now know is far from universal, but as much as I enjoyed and counted on her attention and praise, I also dismissed

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The idea that someone knows whether or not I have cancer but is keeping it from me is ridiculous, but here it is, actually happening. “Your results are in. The doctor is out until Monday. Only the doctor can relay your results. I’m sorry, ma’am. Have a nice weekend.” I can’t even bring myself to do a Lifetime movie style screaming rant at the “Have a nice weekend.” Even in a Lifetime movie, it’s hard…