Something Around the Eyes
I was in high school when Pulp Fiction came out, though I didn’t see it…
Protection No More Substantial Than the Shadows on the Screen
We finally got to see Ant-Man today. (It’s been busy in our household lately.) There…
Employed at Better Things
My boyfriend was filling out paperwork for his horrible, soul-sucking new job—which is, in fact,…
Saying Goodbye
I haven’t taken the time to go scrolling back through my untold numbers of Disqus…
Why Words Matter
Several months ago, I had a conversation with someone who was annoyed that the extras…
Maturity and Guys in Spandex
A while ago, I was having a conversation with some friends about superheroes. One friend…
What Makes You Cry?
“It’s only a TV show.” —my mom, as I cried over the last episode of…
Extraordinary People Do What They Love
Today on Facebook, I saw an image that informed me that ordinary people owned big…
Bros, Cool Girls, and the Male Gaze
I have no opinion on Entourage in principle. I’ve never seen it; I didn’t want…
There’s a Place for Us
The year was probably 1981, maybe 1982. I was four or five. We had just…