About

Pictured: my progenitors

Pictured: my progenitors

I was born in Philadelphia at the tail end of the ’80s to a pair of preppies-turned-yuppies with adorable matching sweaters (one of which my dad still owns. Yes: he has a sweater that is older than his eldest child. That sweater could’ve voted four years before I could!)

I didn’t speak English until I was almost two and a half, but I had a great made-up language that I would shout from the top of the stump in our backyard and scare the feral cats.

Me, circa 2003: over-ear headphones, knockoff Juicy Couture sweatshirt, copy of "The Westing Game," homemade "Algebra Makes Me Cry" t-shirt

Me, circa 2003: over-ear headphones, knockoff Juicy Couture sweatshirt, copy of “The Westing Game,” homemade “Algebra Makes Me Cry” t-shirt

 

Despite a really gnarly peanut allergy, a congenital heart murmur, and an unfortunate twirling-in-the-living-room incident that ended with five stitches, I had a great childhood. One time, my mom built my sister and me an indoor playhouse out of a refrigerator box. Another time, my grandmother sewed me a complete tiny Amishwoman outfit for our first grade barn raising, and I used to play in it after school until it got too small. I fell asleep with books in my bed a lot. I cried a lot. I sang a lot in the church choir. I caught the bouquet at my aunt’s wedding reception but remained mysteriously unmarried. In fifth grade, I wrote a story about a lady knight and shape-shifting evil trees. In eighth grade, I spent a lot of time playing Neopets and burning my forehead with my hair straightener. Needless to say, I was not a popular child.

 

"Quick! Get a good shot of us breaking bread with the Math Department!"

“Quick! Get a good shot of us breaking bread with the Math Department!”

 

In high school, I managed to talk myself out of some boring classes (9th grade History, Advanced Calculus, and gym, which I had to forge a signature for. DO NOT TELL ANYONE AT GERMANTOWN FRIENDS SCHOOL) so I could take more Latin and French. No regrets. I also had the best group of friends who would stage a DIY Thanksgiving feast once a year in the math department just because we liked food and each other.

 

Apparently I wasn't wearing my mortarboard correctly, but if I pulled it down all the way I looked bald.

Apparently I wasn’t wearing my mortarboard correctly, but if I pulled it down all the way I looked bald.

 

I went to college at the University of Chicago because it had a big scavenger hunt and nowhere else accepted me. I majored in Medieval Studies because I adore everything pre-Columbian and wanted to read as many dead languages as possible. I got some new friends who also regularly gathered to eat food and laugh. In 2012, I graduated and delivered a commencement speech to at least 5,000 people—which should have made me want to barf, but my speech was about how much I love my friends, so it was easy to deliver.

 

 

This is me and Roommate Shannon on a school trip to New York to see a play that was in Spanish. Neither of us took Spanish. I do not know why we were made to attend.

This is me and Roommate Shannon on a school trip to New York to see a play that was in Spanish. Neither of us took Spanish. I do not know why we were made to attend.

 

Now, I live in Philadelphia again and work as an editor. My roommate is my best friend from seventh grade, who only became friends with me because I made fun of “bathing suits the size of hospital identification bracelets,” a joke I did not even make up myself (it’s from Dave Barry.)  I write and blog and occasionally teach. Life is grand.

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