Dear Amy, This semester, people used the word “refreshing” to describe you in ten conversations. What did they mean, exactly? Why does it matter so much that you counted? “Now that is a most interesting question: whatever became of me?”
– Truman Capote, Other Voices, Other Rooms Conversation One Is “refreshing”
The cloak of cool air that follows a hot shower?
The smell of grass and wet concrete after rain?
Your favorite song, or
A soft pillow?
The lotion on your hands, or
“What if the change in needs and desires has nothing to do with age per se? Suppose it merely has to do with perspective—your personal sense of how finite your time in this world is.”
— Atul Gawande, Being Mortal This post is about my unexpected leave of absence from college, my ongoing battle with an eating disorder, and all the ways I feel like I’ve changed after clinging to the clichés that got me through. “Almost nothing important that ever happens to you happens because
I’m sitting on a bench in Tompkins Square Park, reading a book next to Sandra and enjoying a rare errand-free afternoon in the heart of East Village. Across from us, speakers are playing 70s throwback songs–Boogie Shoes, Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fighting, Beethoven mashups. Dancing along to the tunes are a woman in hot pink shoes, light pink shorts, and a polka-dotted fuchsia shirt and a man in Elvis bellbottoms and a Star Wars Stormtrooper helmet. Passersby pause to soak in the