Musings on Greek statues, grief, love, and The 1975 — I’ve always wondered why classical Greek statues tended to have tiny dicks and missing heads. The necks always seemed thick and sturdy enough to support a head atop it, and if anything, I thought it seemed more probable that delicate parts like outstretched arms or legs would be the first…

What women really mean when we tell each other to “stay safe” or “get home safely” — On August 14 near midnight, I was walking home from my bus stop, a mere two-minute walk. Aglow with adrenaline from having watched Jordan Peele’s latest horror film with a dear friend, happy, slightly sleepy from the long bus ride home, buzzing with fan theories about the ending. …

You didn’t ask, but you shall receive (again) — Breakfast sammie ★★★★★ A recipe from my dear friend Shushu (a nickname I have graciously bestowed upon him, one which he was reluctant to accept at first but now answers to without any hesitation), that fills one’s heart with joy. It calls for two buttered slices of toast, a sunny-side-up egg with lacy…

Apr. 4 (Mon) I turn 29 years old at the stroke of 2:33 am, which makes me an Aries sun, Virgo moon, and Aquarius ascendant, a fact that I have recently learned against my will. My fourth day in quarantine after finally succumbing to The Virus, and second year that I have spent…

A harrowing tale of three (consecutive!) cursed birthdays — M y first panoramic birthday was my 27th. At the time, I had ill-advised highlights in my short, cropped hair that was already quickly mushrooming out of control, and a lukewarm passion for yoga. The day before, I had gone out for a work dinner to celebrate the end of…

Feb. 21 (Mon) I hop on a call with a random good Samaritan who commented on my viral LinkedIn post, who says he might have a job for me. Turns out, his proposal is that I help him find a job. Namely, by tailoring his cover letters and culling a list of Japanese…

Jan. 26 (Wed) It’s nearing midnight, and I’m with a friend, having a pint of lukewarm Italian beer that tastes like piss. There’s a crowd of white men outside the pub shouting unintelligibly at each other, gesturing dramatically with their hands, throwing them up in the air and waving them around like they…

You didn’t ask, but you shall receive — Killing Eve ★★★★☆ God, I would go gay for Sandra Oh and never look back. After hearing that Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge herself penned part of the screenwriting for this, I decided to pick it up — and it’s admittedly rather stereotypical in that one of the main characters is a trained Russian assassin…

I have long heard rumors of the Black Nod, where black people nod at each other when they pass each other by, utter strangers though they may be, as a mark of acknowledgment and solidarity in the face of overwhelming whiteness. An Asian Nod does not exist, by the way…