A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Late July, 1982

I just walked back alone from Diane’s open studio. The horse and all the cows were out, the air was cool, and the mountains and trees are the last of rural Virginia I’m going to see for a long while. Part of me would like to stay here and hide out from the world in safety and security.

On Being Mistaken For A Boy

I wore the most androgynous of children’s clothes. Half of them were hand me downs, from my male cousins. She and my father weren’t progressive parents. They weren’t actively avoiding gender norms. Now I think they just had no idea what they were doing.

The Best Sad Coffee Songs

That’s one thing I’ve noticed while indulging this melancholy: the best songs for weepy introspection always, always, always reference coffee. Below, the best “sad-coffee” playlist in the world. Put it on, wait for it to drizzle outside, brew a fresh pot and curl up in a window sill. It’s time to stare out into the street, sip some joe and feel super sad.