The documentary about Kathleen Hanna, The Punk Singer, is now on Netflix. I devoured this chat between Kathleen Hanna and Gloria Steinem.

I am slowly making my way through The Billfold's great feature, Doing Money, on how people manage money, what they earn, and how they spend and save.

WTF is normcore? This New York Times feature helps sort it out a bit. 

Meg Biram's Get Shit Done is one of the most useful blog features around.

"But I think there’s probably a simpler reason,” he said, “which is these guys are just jerks, and women know it." Technology's Man Problem is a good read. 

The Comedian Comedians Were Afraid Of, on Patrice O'Neal and his talent, both for making people squirm and making them laugh. O’Neal believed that stand-up—if it was any good—had to take prisoners, that it was always at someone’s expense. And if anybody was going to be uncomfortable, it wasn’t going to be him.

Get lost in MIT's fantastic resource, Open Courseware. American Consumer Culture. Social Theory and the City

Photo from The LIFE Archives.


Today is Opening Day at AT&T Park. Baseball started last week but I wait until Opening Day to declare baseball back. Here we are: the San Francisco Giants play the Arizona Diamondbacks today at 1:35pm. The annual tradition of the reading of Casey at the Bat continues.

I love baseball with a hopeful heart. Raised on the heartbreaks of the Red Sox, I approach every season with the trepidation of someone who's been burned before. Of course I have. It's baseball.

It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. (Bart Giamatti)

Another season is here. Welcome back baseball. I missed the hell out of you.

Photos from Square America.


This is a photo of me and the man I've loved for fourteen years standing on the steps of the duomo in Siena, Italy on the day before we got married. I look at this photo and all I see is love.

I spent hours (actual, real-life hours) obsessing over the taking of these photos. I worried about how my upper arms would look and my awkward smile and if I chose the right shoes. I cried more than once with fear and anxiety around these photos. I was more nervous for this photo session than on the day I actually got married.

Our wedding photographers, Alessandro and Veronica Roncaglione, are incredible people. They eased all my fears about being photographed and were people we'd genuinely want to just hang out with.

Now that I have these photos I realize how sad all that worrying was. I'm embarrassed about it, frankly.

I also think about how rarely women who are not thin are represented among the oceans of wedding blogs and magazines. Wedding photos are chosen for women who are the ideal we're all supposed to buy into: thin, effortless, pretty. Where are all the photos of the perfectly average and lovely people getting married?

In the end, I said Fvck It and went sleeveless. In the end, I have photos like these and all I can see is the love. I'm so glad I didn't wear some dumb cardigan.


The story of Vivian Maier is almost as compelling as her stunning photographs.

In 2007, a man named John Maloof bought a trunk of negatives at an auction house, and unwittingly bought himself some of the unknown work of Vivian Maier. He shared her photographs on a blog and researched her life, finding out that she had been a nanny in Chicago and a largely private person. No one in her life had known the extent and the talent of her photography.

I remember posting photographer self portraits on this blog last year and wondering about Vivian Maier. Her self portrait was the closest to how mine always come out - a bit tentative and perhaps unsure about the whole thing but willing to try anyway.
Look at these beauties. The black and white is so sharp, and the moments she captures are both mundane and odd. They're stunning, holding their own with the work of my personal photography heroes like Robert Frank and Bruce Davidson.





The movie "Finding Vivian Maier" is coming out on demand on March 31. Netflix engage.


All images from Vivian Maier


And just like that, March is almost over. What is this nonsense? To distract from the quick slip of time, how about some music I've been enjoying lately.


Pusha T you are the damned best. 

I will not share just how many times I have creepily watched this Future Islands Letterman performance with a giant grin on my face. It's a lot, okay? I am way into this lead singer's Marlon Brando meets Henry Rollins face and his earnest-without-a-trace-of-irony delivery. Thanks to Kate Miss for introducing me to this delight.

I am still a little crushed to learn that Biggie wrote Kim's rhymes on the very important to me Hard Core album. Whatever-we still have great lines about what Kim expects when she watches cartoons, and you bet it's NSFW.

BROAD CITY all day. this isn't technically music but there is some Drake (who is maybe for sure dating Rihanna and I kind of care?) and Missy Elliot references, so it counts. 




I'm feeling the travel itch and the current urge that has been bumping around in my brain is a road trip around the Florida Keys. Photographer Brian Ferry just posted these photos of his road trip through the Florida Keys, and those plus the Travel and Leisure article that I stole from my doctor's office has me fantasizing about warm sun and the slightly feral eccentricity of Florida.




Also: Conde Nast Traveler's Florida Road Trip, featuring Brian's photos.

The perfect southern road trip music for hanging your hand out the window in the thick warm air? Outkast's ALTiens, of course.