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.

I had never before read anyone who understood the particular kind of fury I felt -- a fury that felt like being a teenaged girl, and being young and queer, and being hated. There was something in everyone in that book that I loved and recognised: Ishmael’s transformation -- his neediness and then “cool collected dive at death”; Queequeg’s skill; Starbuck’s terror. And in Ahab, I found the kind of madness -- almost completely forged of anger…

While there was plenty I could learn from Anne Shirley or Harriet the Spy, I always longed to read about an actual tomboy like me – no long braids, no puffed sleeves, no growing up into a swan after an ugly duckling childhood. As a young reader, I always wanted a role model who didn’t grow out of her awkward phrase, who didn’t eventually find that it all just fell into place – because I…

Felix Kent's previous work for The Toast can be found here. When I was applying to colleges a lifetime ago, my atheist father suggested I write my application essays about Sai Baba. He said there were lots of smart kids more or less like me applying to college -- this part of my life set me apart. It was good advice, perhaps. I didn’t follow it. Sathya Sai Baba, who died in 2011, was…

Ester Bloom's previous work for The Toast can be found here. She also dispenses wit and wisdom as Aunt Acid, The Toast's advice columnist. Pregnancy is like going through puberty again, only in fast-forward: your body, without seeking your consent, becomes cartoonishly, attention-grabbingly feminine. And I was sub-par at going through puberty the first time around. When I was almost 12, I auditioned for a suburban summer camp production of Into the Woods and…

Your father comes outside only to tell you that the orchard has closed. He finds you in the backyard, drifting through the pool on a half-deflated float and finally finishing Franny and Zooey. There is little else to do when you come home to visit your parents; it’s also probably time for you to return the waterlogged paperback to your friend, as she sent it to you in the mail two years ago. You have…

Thanks for coming in today. It’s hard to believe you’ve already been with us for thirty years! We remember HR introducing you around on your first day like it was just last week. Although you probably don’t remember anything from your first two or three years of life. That’s all right. Here’s your detailed review, which you should read over carefully on your own time. We considered the comments you made in your online self-assessment, as…

Felix Kent's previous work for The Toast can be found here. Between the ages of 18 and 24 I went through a phase of thinking I was good at engaging with other women. Actually becoming friends was mysterious and unpredictable. Love is. Still I believed in courting the possibility; I thought I was good at courting the possibility. There is a (nonfiction) book called Our Hearts Were Young and Gay which I read over…

We met at college orientation barbecues and in the hallways of our dorms. We embraced our friendships with abandon. We belonged to one another, and so did our tank tops and nail polish and dark sides. We graduated and took unpaid internships. We felt paralyzed on the brink of infinite possibilities, but life insisted we make choices. We refilled salsa bowls and water glasses. We made out with bad boys in the back of minivan…

0-1 months  Capable of babbling at parents and other familiar figures Often seen speaking to a presence invisible Vocalizations come from someplace deeper and more primal than the throat Caul of silk appears around the face Soul impermanence 1-3 months Begins holding grudges and crafting crude effigies Sudden changes in breathing Minor shapeshifting…

I think I can remember the first time I swam in the ocean. I can definitely remember my first concert (Prince—great) and my first French kiss (back of a school bus in the seventh grade—not so great). If pressed, I can call to mind my first roller coaster ride and the first horror movie that slackened my jaw. But I can't seem to recall my first visit to a shopping mall. I can never pin…