Within the past week alone, I’ve gotten to know my neighbors better.
I always thought the reason why New York City was so appealing to me was because I could be entirely anonymous, a privilege I was not afforded when I was growing up in Texas. Here, I could cry on the subway, have a heated argument on the phone during a walk, or run to the deli in flip flops and sweatpants, and absolutely no one would bat an eye. Feeling invisible, arguably, is one of the best parts about living in the city.
Last week, however, my mom — who is a fully vaccinated medical assistant— drove all the way…
Her latest exhibit, “Impressions,” debuted last Saturday at the Jane Lombard Gallery.
In a velvety green wrap dress, artist Kristin McIver floated around the Jane Lombard Gallery in Tribeca, where her latest exhibit, Impressions, debuted on Saturday. “This show was supposed to happen last April,” she tells me as two visitors crane their necks to view one of her 12 video sculptures, each comprising of an acrylic cube that acts as an extended screen playing looping clips of water. Each cube’s name corresponds with its geotag from the film’s location, except for Current Location, which is the only cube filled with real water. “But the pandemic has created so much new context…
I can finally see light at the end of the tunnel.
A year ago today was when I had the first real taste of what the coronavirus pandemic would be like. At the time, I was running NYU Local, my school’s news blog, and had just finished a long day of classes when my Slack was buzzing nonstop. NYU told students at its study away site in Florence to pack up their bags within three days and go home, lest they wanted to be stuck in a foreign country during a burgeoning pandemic. That’s when I knew that we were really in trouble. …
I’m a Texan. I’ve been homeless, freezing, and without power before. The millions of Texans left out in the cold are not going to forgive your cowardice.
I know what it is like to freeze. In December 2013, when my mom and I were temporarily homeless in North Texas, we lost power to the RV we were staying at that week. The roads had iced over earlier that day and the temps hovered around 30 degrees. We could see our breath inside as we huddled together for warmth. The feeling of helplessness and fear is something I wish on no one.
But over the past three days, 29 million Texans have been experiencing disruptions of heat, water, and electricity at the hands of government officials who believed…
Her latest album, “Flowers for Vases/descansos,” grapples with grief through delicate vocals and pared-back instrumentation.
Hayley Williams is no stranger to baring her soul.
The Paramore frontwoman has belted and crooned about heartbreak, depression, and anger for more than a decade across five albums. Last May, though, Williams released her first solo album, Petals for Armor, after years of openly expressing disinterest in a project without Paramore. But what Petals for Armor achieved through bright, dancey synthpop and biting lyrics about the duality of resilience and rage, her latest release accomplishes through gentleness. Flowers for Vases/descansos finally lets Williams contemplate and mourn without needing to look on the bring side.
What a virtual pet site taught me about the power of investing communities
When I was about eight years old, I asked my mom to make me an email address so I could sign up for Neopets, an online site launched in 1999 where users own virtual pets they can dress up, feed, and customize. The world of Neopets is expansive and mirrors real life in many ways: There are historical events (yikes), a newspaper (cool), and capitalism (boo!). Once I successfully secured an email address, I went over to my neighbor Veronica’s house to get situated on Neopets. As I was about to input my age, she chimed in: “Stop! Make a…
It was cute at first, but enough is enough.
Today, I sat silently in a Breakout Room — Zoom’s seemingly innovative way to mirror IRL group discussion online — waiting for someone else to talk. When they inevitably didn’t, I’d toss in a few questions here and there to try to illicit a response from my peers to no avail (to be fair, the reading was dense and I’m sure none of us were prepared to discuss it at length). Unlike figuring out an assignment together in person, where you can ask your teacher a question or eavesdrop on other groups, we stared at each other, mics off, for…
After two years of “letting myself go,” I decided to get back into the world of beauty.
The crazy thing about depression is that it will absolutely make you despise the practices that can actually help you feel like a person. This can range from not brushing your teeth to not showering. For me, it was beauty.
Before my depression consumed my life, I used to meticulously apply winged eyeliner eyes and curl my lashes every day. I loved perusing the shelves of the local beauty supply store with my mom — who’s a cosmetologist (and medical assistant and accountant and resident Wonder Woman) — or dreaming of all the fancy vials of skincare products I’d buy…
We’re excited for this next chapter.
We’re back! We missed you, dear readers, and we’re excited to bring you the things you love most about The Interlude: thoughtful analysis, insightful personal essays, plucky reporting, and, yes, some fun pieces, too.
But first: a programming note. Right now, we’re in the midst of so many global changes. This month alone, as our politics editor Natasha Roy put it, “We had an insurrection, an impeachment, and an inauguration. No one’s brain is working.” Between the pandemic and a new president, we have no idea what the next few months will be like. …
A kinda late New Year’s resolution, if you will.
Content warning: mentions of disordered eating, body dysmorphia.
The other day, my boyfriend and I were snuggling up on the couch, watching some cooking show. I don’t remember exactly what show it was, but nonetheless I sat there engrossed: a chef was walking through how to prepare an artichoke. He gingerly cut and trimmed the spiky outer leaves and removed the heart, or what he called the choke (never mind how silly it is to say “artichoke choke” out loud).
I immediately recalled how intimidated I was in high school when I bought one from Walmart after my best friend’s…
Izzie Ramirez
Writing about climate, culture & comida wherever I go. Work in: GEN, Bitch Media, VICE, Jezebel, and then some. Medium’s resident Gen Z kid.
