Sep 22, 2022
Pickles Taught Me the Art of Self-Preservation
I was not suspended in a timeless brine like my pickles. I was not a stoic javelin of cellulose waiting to strike a bored palette. My answers would not be in rigidity, in control.
I was not suspended in a timeless brine like my pickles. I was not a stoic javelin of cellulose waiting to strike a bored palette. My answers would not be in rigidity, in control.
I use his favorite David Attenborough shows to help me explain my climate activism
Anyone who has lost and subsequently gained weight back can tell you that you will be treated differently in real, material ways. The difference is at once alluring and painful.
My poverty is the most dangerous kind of poverty. It is religious. This is what I know, what my family and community know.
Supermarket Sweep is what gets me the closest, catapulting me back to a time when we were alive, together.
I got a D in math and my sister got cancer. These aren’t causalities, only things that happened one right after the other.
Will it challenge how they feel about the kingdom? The nationalistic pride of what it means to be Thai?
I find joy in being let into the idiosyncrasies of someone’s taste.
My father has been gone for so long now. There’s nothing for me to escape anymore. I read his book to try to believe him again.
Who will remember a girl’s pain when the evidence disappears?
As of January 2021, only six of the first twenty-one sweepstakes winners were able to live in their Dream Home for longer than a year.
The wall that divided us in those early weeks of my first child’s infancy became a continued separation.
My daughter understands object permanence—the idea that what vanishes continues to exist. As the planet warms, I worry I may have oversold the concept.
In the emergency room waiting for a potential diagnosis, I soothe myself with loops of pudgy toddlers tripping into the antics of babyhood over and over again.
Yes, this system is imperfect. It took years—and the privilege of professional help—before I’d learn to articulate my grief in words.
Comforting each other is more natural when we’re physically present, which is what the pandemic made it impossible for my not-husband to be.
The invisible fence that divides highbrow and lowbrow is largely imposed by money, those we admire, and our own social conditioning.
If you’re looking at something, you don’t know where it’s going; if you know where it’s going, you don’t know where it is.
