1. Which girl in this picture is the one who owns this account? I find it hard to believe that any woman using Tinder doesn’t have at least one photograph of just her, by herself. [...]
Part I of “I Want My Best Friend Back.” *** Jane was my roommate, but more importantly—she’s been my best friend for 16 years. She started drinking heavily shortly afte[...]
“How far did you get?” my friend Jack asked. It was the Monday morning after the Homecoming Dance. Time to report on the after-dance activities with our dates. Specifically, Jack w[...]
You: you are pure white in some lights, the most magnificent blue or a shimmery yellow in others. Me: I am bright, fiery, quite large, and sometimes wearing Ray-Bans. I have seen y[...]
It begins with not being able to write anything. You wake up one day and you simply can’t. Not a story, not a sentiment, not a sentence that makes a difference the way they used to[...]
The 101 Freeway. Bad traffic. On the radio, the quiet hum of NPR’s All Things Considered talking about kids eating laundry pods and getting sick, because kids are idiots. My best f[...]
Home is no longer a place. I can’t tell you its population or any well-known landmarks. It doesn’t have a ZIP code or a street name, and there isn’t a map in the world that would s[...]
My friend Sue and I had come out to Mojave National Preserve to do some camping, hiking, and cycling. Neither of us had been here before, and we were looking forward to “the desert[...]
“Hai,” Brandi says repeatedly, as she trots down the hall to my parents’ living room, where I set up a makeshift dwelling every time I visit. The bell draped around her neck jingle[...]
It was mostly overcast and maybe 60 degrees. We set out around 10:30 in the morning, and warmed up on the Marina loop. Even though we started late, traffic was surprisingly light, [...]