Columns

There’s a high chance you know the name Tupac Shakur. If you don’t, you are definitely from another planet. He’s the master behind “California Love,” the song that still dominates every summer playlist. It’s less likely, but entirely possible, that you recognize the…

The call from the pharmacy started routinely, but the condescending tone of the older woman delivering the news rocked my world. She said my prescriptions of Vyvanse, Zoloft and Trazodone would no longer be covered after my 26th birthday the following month.   …

This time last year I was drunk. Too often to remember it completely and too frequently to forget it was. There were two attempted meetings. At the end of the second — when mostly middle-aged alcoholics chain-smoked outside — the group leader…

We studied in the Las Positas library, separately. He wore plaid pajama bottoms, in blue I think, with a grey hoodie. Making my black slacks and black-and-white-striped knitted sweater feel overdressed. He talked to a friend about his classes, at a volume…

I’ve always, on some level, been a kitty. When I was young, I struggled to relate to human people, so I found comfort in cats. I studied and mimicked their body language and the ways they interacted with their environment. I meowed,…

During office hours for a fall 2023 sociology class, I asked my professor this question: “Is it fair when people say that if Donald Trump got reelected he’d bring an end to democracy?”  “People,” in the question, was implied to include talking…

Even before the new year started I knew I wanted to meet more trans people. I wanted to meet more people in general, of course, especially people my age. But I especially wanted to meet fellow trans people. I felt that was…

I’ll never forget my introduction to Caitlin Clark. It was the 2024 women’s college basketball Final Four. I was on my parent’s couch, and Clark’s Iowa Hawkeyes pulled off a massive upset against women’s basketball powerhouse UConn.  On TV, she was statically…

The twisted-up mind, fever dreamt with drink or un-anchored high, is capable of cognitively reconstructing any phenomena. Here, the event was a birthday— my 20th reconstructed as a microscopic “Fear and Loathing.” No Hunter S. Thompson. No drug-infused lawyer. No company. No…

The teen years are just one of a myriad of trials and customs that I confess I’m unaccustomed to generally, and those of teen girls in particular. Seemingly a millennia ago, I was a particularly dorky teen. This all but ensured I…