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July, I ❤️ New York

I went to New York, and boy, oh boy, did I have a good time. It was like the world stopped just for me, or maybe I entered vacation mode for one of the first times in my life and was able to successfully focus on my trip and just my trip. The humidity in New York City was absolutely awful, and if Seattle suddenly felt that way, I’d complain way, way more than I complained while I was on the east coast. Not that I didn’t complain. It’s one of the main topics of conversation, even for people who l
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June, ARC, nostalgic, and yearbooks

One book I didn’t write about this month was my middle school yearbook. My oldest friend Megan and I sat down and flipped through three years of embarrassing photos, home phone numbers, and fashion choices. I love old yearbooks, especially ones I helped create! Megan and I were in yearbook class, so we helped highlight shirtless 12-year-old boys in a gross middle school pool, all their puka shell necklace glory on full display. Why did we give a four-photo spot to the motivational speaker rippin
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May, words and flowers

I got my reading groove back this month, and thank buck. (I’ve never in my life said or heard “thank buck” before, but it feels right, so we’re going with it.) I read a lot and tried to write a lot about what I read. I usually have some thoughts I’d expand on here, but my brain is full of May flowers. To the books!

The Egg & I by Betty MacDonald (1945) | Quick summary: A memoir by a relatively unhappily married woman about her life on a chicken farm.

As readers of my April newsletter may recal

February is for lovers

I'm not the kind of person who is ever going to start an OnlyFans or anything that's based on my sexual prowess or attraction. I hope I don't have to explain that I'm not a person who judges anyone for taking that path in life; it's just extremely low on my list of interests. I don't have anything to prove to anyone about my sexuality, and I certainly don't need any members of my family privy to my desires or literal naked body.

No one said, "hey Jess, when are you going to start an OnlyFans?"

January, learning how to grieve

January always feels long but this one stretched out, tirelessly, and exhaustive. I was on the precipice of Big Change and now here I am, sitting in the throes of it. It’s not just that I’ve started a new job after 5 years and 7 months, as LinkedIn told me, in my former role. It’s not just that I’ve termed off the board at the Northwest Abortion Access Fund after two all-encompassing years. It’s not just that my best friend’s son is dying and every wonderful moment of enjoying a dance party with

December, I smell ice

This year ended in such a rush even though December was more frigid than ever. Here, we had snow and then an ice storm. Everything was cold and sharp and grounding. With too much time to reflect, I soaked in my grief over losing Mackenzie and was hollowed out as the realization that my small friend Walter will not live set in. Sets in? Knowing that a child is going to pass away is one of the grossest, worst feelings I’ve ever encountered. It’s shifted my priorities and centered my friendships in

November, the month it all fell down

I hate when people are cryptic about tragedy or anything really, but I’m going to be cryptic about tragedy right now. I’m not personally ready, nor do I think it’s appropriate, for me to share what is easily the most tragic news I’ve ever experienced. It’s not my tragedy to share even though it’s absolutely my tragedy to help bear. I’m only even mentioning it because I have a series of newsletters I’ll be very proud of myself if I send out this month, including this sort-of-tardy November one, a

October, October

I met a man named Milton Kidd the other day. Milton’s tongue, thick in his mouth, made it hard to understand him at first, especially with the rush of Seattle traffic—both foot and wheel—passing by. I was out for a drink with a few coworkers after an incredibly rare nearly-full day in the ghost of an office we once occupied. The few of us were at an (outside) table, discussing what was next for us all, career-and-otherwise, when Milton interrupted, asking if I’d order him some fish & chips.

I d

September, coming in late

I’ve never actually read Marie Kondo’s book in its entirety but I have read enough of it and seen 2.43 episodes of the Netflix show that I feel confident in my understanding of the whole deal. You hold something, you feel nothing, you donate the thing.

I’m a big donator. I don’t like to keep things that make me feel bad—or worse—make me feel nothing. Even before the concept of “tidying up” gently shook American culture, I liked to tidy up. I perpetually have a box in my bedroom that I throw clo

August, it requires patience, resignation, event

My friend texted me the other day something along the lines of hey how are you, is it just me or did this summer not feel like summer?

I was always a school-loving kid. Summer was magical but I was always eager to get back to it. Even though growing up I liked playing outside with my brothers and cousins and and I really liked celebrating my birthday, especially when it fit my family’s formula of the same group of people, the same dependable dinner, the individually decorated and fun cake my mo