Diary of a Depressed Liberal

Sometimes it's the little things. "NOT MY PRESIDENT" T-shirt from 63 Bluxome Gallery, chocolate old-fashioned from Donut World.

Sometimes it’s the little things. “NOT MY PRESIDENT” T-shirt from 63 Bluxome Street Gallery, chocolate old-fashioned from Donut World.

When I was a little girl, I kept a diary. I think most of us did back then. I remember one in particular: Metallic gold and white-checked vinyl cover, gold lock with a teeny tiny gold key. It was the one place I could pour my heart into, and as a child suffering from depression but didn’t know it yet, it was my therapist.

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Uber Bitch


A few weeks ago, me and three friends settled into our seats at the Norse Theatre, excited to hear our idol, “punk poet laureate” Patti Smith talk about her new book and sing a few songs. Michele leaned over as the lights went down and whispered, “Remind me to tell you about my fight with a Millennial in the uberPOOL”.

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What Not To Wear Over 40: “Trousers With Fewer Fucks”


“What Not to Wear” is one of my favorite TV shows ever.

It really was a modern day “My Fair Lady”: hosts Stacy London and Clinton Kelly, all proper annunciation and sharp duds, plucking a disheveled “Eliza” from her feral fashion habitat to groom into a trained on-trend lady, ready for her “big reveal” to family and friends at the local Olive Garden. Not exactly rags to riches, but definitely rags to tailored trousers. And a $5,000 shopping spree.

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