chemotherapy
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I, Gilda
Is this real? Did I remember that wrong? Is it me? Did I misunderstand? Am I too sensitive? Oblivious? Possibly annoying? Did I misinterpret that eye roll? Did they sigh with frustration, or with relief? Am I not faceted enough… Continue reading
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Ode to Bubbies
When I was a teenager, I envisioned turning 18 to be like a magic portal to not only becoming a bonafide woman, wuhehman, WHOAAAAman, but also to where all my dreams would come true, where I could do whatever the… Continue reading
It's Gilda, Not Gilda 