Some writing samples that live on various internet sites – all in one convenient place for your reading pleasure.
Google Maps is Trying to Ruin my Life - Part 1
Google Maps is out to get me. So far it’s tried to get me killed, arrested and mugged in various situations, but I still keep using it.
These are my stories.
Do you ever look around and wonder “How did I get here?” Were you also stuck in a rental car in the middle of a French pedestrian promenade?
My friends and I were at the tail end of a successful girls trip to France. We were exhausted, but wanted to make our last meal count, so Chelsea booked us a place in downtown Aix en Provence so we could gorge ourselves on delicious French delicacies one more time.
As the self-appointed driver of the trip, I drove us downtown for our last meal. Now, I’d like to preface this story by saying that the roads in Aix en Provence make no sense. Every time we went somewhere, Google Maps told me to make left turns so sharp they should be classified as U-turns, put me on what I was sure were bike highways, and pointed me down sketchy-looking access roads behind construction sites. But I always got where I needed to go, so I put my blind trust into the little voice coming out of my phone.
We were approaching the city center when the two-way streets started to look more like the width of one car. I’m a nervous driver, so I was praying to any God available that no cars came from the opposite direction. We didn’t see any cars, but we did come across a few groups of people walking in the middle of the road. As they moved out of the road I noticed a blue sign with people walking on it. I thought to myself “huh, I wonder what that cute sign means?”
Well, the number of people walking in the middle of the road started growing – but it really wasn’t their fault; the ‘sidewalk’ was made for a bony 6 year old. Even so, I could feel my grip on the steering wheel tightening as I morphed into the worst version of myself: Road Whitney. For reasons I should probably unpack with my therapist, when I’m in the car I become an expletive-slinging asshole if anyone inconveniences me.
As I was softly yelling at people to get (the fuck) out of my way, I looked at the navigation. “Turn right.” Google Maps said.
Wow, did I regret that turn.
In front of me was a densely packed crowd of hundreds of people. They were all looking at me like I was the idiot, even though they were the ones walking in the middle of the road. I chalked it up to them knowing I was an American and greeting me with the customary warmth.
Then I saw another cute little blue people walking sign...and everything clicked.
MERDE.
(That’s French)
(For shit)
Google Maps had directed me right into the beating heart of the city’s pedestrian-only zone.
I stopped and looked at my friends for help. I was frozen, until Chelsea’s yell brought me back down to Earth.
“EW! I can see the top of that guy’s dick!!”
I turned to look out the front window and saw a toothless man standing in front of our car yelling at us, holding a sign, and sure enough, you could see it.
By now the crowd had swallowed us whole and Google said that the only way out was straight through. I inched the car forward, hoping people would move - namely Richard who was still yelling at us.
It probably took me a total of 3 min to navigate, but wading through the hundreds of varying looks of disdain made me realize that time really is just a construct. If you told me that I’d spent 10 years there, I’d believe you.
We finally pulled out of the crowd and into a dark clearing. I let out a huge sigh of relief and a little chuckle. “That’ll be a funny one to pull out at parties” I thought. But then my eyes started to adjust to the darkness and I realized…our car wasn’t on a road anymore.
It was in the middle of a pedestrian promenade.
There was a huge statue of a horse a few feet away. There were people walking by the car looking at it with confusion and a little bit of disgust.
At the same time, I heard the faint sounds of French police sirens ringing in the distance. Soon after, a police car whizzed along the road just outside the promenade with its lights flashing. This was it. Someone called the cops on the idiot American.
Straight ahead there were three large metal bollards with red lights flashing at the top. I briefly thought about gunning it and trying to crash through them, but there was no way we’d make it - even in what our rental car guy called ‘the biggest SUV in France’.
I put my forehead on the steering wheel and just gave up. We were done for. Time to leave the car and go on the run.
Then Chelsea said, “Get out, I’ll drive”.
‘Thank you”, I whispered.
I got out and Chelsea got behind the wheel, while Lydia and Cori ran off and started scouting the area like a professional recon team while I stood by the car and just shouted “Chelsea!” over and over, waiting for her to come back and drive us to safety. If you can’t tell, I’m great in a crisis.
Chelsea got back to the car and was slowly driving us around the promenade while Lydia and Cori were still scouting the area. Cori found a space in the fence, but it would involve hopping a 12 inch curb and completely destroying the underside of our rental car, so we put that down as Plan B.
Lydia found us a break in the fence wide enough to get the car onto a back road. Everyone piled back in, made it through the fence and started patting ourselves on the back for not getting arrested. That was until we saw the flashing red lights of more bollards up ahead. We turned around, and the other end of the road was a brick building. Sublime.
Lydia and I walked over to the bollards. I’m not sure what we thought we could do - this was the kind of barrier they put in front of really, really important government buildings that they don’t want bombed. The kind of barrier that says “don’t even think about it” when you look at it. The kind of barrier that makes you wonder what the accommodations are like in French prison.
We examined every inch of the bollards before we saw a little box nearby. There was a touch screen with a phone symbol on it, so I held my breath and pressed it. As we stared down the ringing box, I imagine we looked a bit like Derek and Hansel in Zoolander when they find out the files are in the computer.
“Allo?”
“Parlez vous Anglais???”
“Non.”
Great. Lydia and I looked at each other, trying to remember how to say “Please for the love of God let us out we don’t know how we got here we’re so sorry please don’t call the cops” in French
“Alo????”
I finally just said (in my most American English): “Um…we’re stuck!!”
“Eh???”
“Our car is stuck!!”
“Oo.”
We heard the faint grinding of metal, and turned to see the bollards sinking into the ground. We ran back to the car shouting “MERCI” as loudly as possible and telling Chelsea to floor it before the barriers came back up. We were finally back on the open road, no cops in sight, and only 30 min late for our dinner reservation*. Someone let out a nervous laugh, and the rest of us burst into laughter that didn’t stop until we fell asleep that night.
As my head hit the pillow all I could think was how simple the robot revolution will be. All they’ll have to do is tell us “Turn Right”.
*NB: When we got to restaurant, the maître d' said “I’m so sorry, but I can’t find your reservation.” Chelsea said “you just called us 15 minutes ago??”
After a bit of back and forth, we realised that she had made a reservation at a restaurant in a small French town 8 hours drive away. Thanks again, Google Maps.
Healthy Summer Meals for Working Girls on the Go
My best friend Chelsea and I used to write a satirical fitness and dating blog, and once every few months we talk about starting it up again. This is one of our posts.
Hey you! Yes, you! You may have noticed that the hottest days of summer are officially upon us. The days are long, the nights are warm, the butt sweat is plentiful-er. What a time to be alive.
If you’re anything like us, the last thing you want to do after swampass’ing your way through the radiating summer streets is pop on an apron and fire up the old stove. I mean, I have central air and I’m still complaining.
So we’re doing you a solid and sharing all of our cool summer tips and quick and easy meals for girls on the go. Enjoy!
A rotisserie chicken that I pick pieces directly off with my fingers, then put in the fridge vowing to eat it again tomorrow. Then I forget about it and throw it away 7 days later when it really starts to smell weird.
A cucumber that I’m too lazy to cut up, so I just take bites out of it while walking around my house
A delicious low-carb eggplant lasagna that I brave the grocery store for, spend entirely too much on, cook painstakingly for hours and then shove into my mouth in less than 5 minutes. Then clean up for another 20-30 minutes.
A fresh summer salad that I buy all the ingredients for, have to work late for a few days, go to make it and realize all the produce has gone bad, throw it all out in a fit of rage, then order $30 worth of takeout from Postmates
Three pieces of turkey deli meat rolled up and shoved into my mouth as I run out the door to go meet my friends at happy hour
A salad with no cheese, no tortilla strips, no croutons, no fatty meats, no fun, and a light vinaigrette on the side while I stare longingly at photos of various macaroni and cheeses on my phone, sighing with every bite
Trader Joe’s frozen meals that I frankenstein together with extra frozen veggies and forget to add salt so everything tastes pretty bland but I just keep eating it because I paid good money for it and I really need to stop eating out so much so I can save more money and maybe one day buy a house or quit my job and travel the world or just maybe retire before I’m 95 years old
Anything from the Whole Foods hot bar, including but not limited to: macaroni and cheese, burritos, quesadillas and sub sandwiches. What? They’re all-natural.
Anything shoved into my face with my hands while standing in front of a fridge. Bonus points if you finish shoving before the fridge alarm goes off
One piece of candy I found at the bottom of my purse from the last time I went to the movies
The elusive “final meal” before a diet. If you’re like us, you can polish off 3 – 5 of these per week
Potato salad. It’s a salad for god’s sake
Something that you already put in the garbage but just really want one more bite of. I see you Miranda. I see you Costanza. We are one.
A juice cleanse that starts off with fresh pressed green juice that tastes like a lawnmower smells, and ends with aged grape juice (read: wine)
11 servings in one sitting of a healthy meal I pinned on my Summer Bod board 8 months ago and have “really been meaning to get around to cooking”
An 860 calorie acai bowl after 30 minutes of light cardio and some foam rolling
Three gluten free chocolate coconut balls I forgot I bought one day prior. Spend $60 on dry cleaning when I drunkenly eat them in bed and wake up wondering what the hell got all over my white, linen comforter during the night
A questionably old apple with one serving of peanut butter* (*½ a tub)
Just a small bite of the trendy sugar scrub my waxer convinced me to buy after a particularly aggressive brazilian. It just smells so good!
One to two kernels of popcorn to appear ladylike and thin during a first date at the movies. (Note: as soon as there’s a dark scene, start shoveling handfuls)
A dinner out with friends at one of my favorite cafes including pasta and dessert and aperol spritzes that isn’t healthy for my waistline or bank account but man is it healthy for my soul
My Sweet eBay
The summer after I graduated from Brandcenter I was waiting for my perfect job to come along and got really into lotto scratchers and selling my stuff on eBay to make some extra money. I wrote this declaration of love during that time.
My Sweet eBay
I can barely remember before you.
I was an unemployed wanderer, finding joy in reruns of Pawn Stars and hours spent testing if I put mustard on a piece of asparagus would it taste like a soft pretzel.
With you I wake up with purpose. In your veritable wonderland of imports and exports I have found my niche. Through you I've carved out a small but ambitious shop, full of gently used relics from my past.
It feels almost like employment, this new obsession. I keep track of my items and when they sell, print shipping labels, and sometimes even answer messages from potential buyers with questions like, "Are there any crystals missing from that Swarovski hair clip?"
Though I found you 15 years after the rest of civilization, your unwavering utility proves you're more than just a pop culture joke.
Your dark corners of the help page and hidden passageways to advanced listings make customizing my experience complicated, yet fruitful.
You taught me things I wasn't ready to learn. How to block people asking me to send my old iPhone to their grandson in Nigeria. That you must not put a designer name in the title unless you have a verified PayPal account. Lessons that I will carry with me long after my days with you have passed.
But for now in your sweet and gentle arms I stay. Making listings. Leaving comments. Earning stars.
And one day when we've drifted too far, I'll look back on you fondly while I eat my lunch on a beige desk in a tall building on a downtown street. Knowing that you could be right here in front of me, if we had the time.
An Exercise in Excess
A realistic love letter to the American South – where things don’t always make sense, but they’re always too big for healthy human consumption.
Summer is fast approaching, and people in the South are turning to the only weapon they have to beat the heat: the Roo Cup.
With the large soda ban in New York City, I'm more thankful than ever to call this land home. The land of the free. Where obesity and lawlessness reign.
For those not from the southeastern region of America: for a one time payment of $6.99, patrons of the Kangaroo gas station franchise can purchase a reusable plastic cup with logo. You can then bring this cup to the gas station at any point and refill it with any liquid beverage for 25 cents all summer long.
I'll take you through the emotions you're going to feel after purchasing this cup:
WOW! What a deal! This cup pays for itself!
There are so many beverage choices! The possibilities are endless!
This thing is really sticky. I should probably wash it.
Shit. I forgot that piece of shit cup again.
After approximately three to five uses - depending on your level of discipline - you will never see this cup again. It will become lodged underneath your front seat, at the bottom of a bag in the garage or in a kitchen cabinet you never open. This cup is created specifically to be forgotten.
But each summer you'll go back, clutching your almost $7. You'll make a plan on how to maximize the usefulness of the Roo cup. But i's always the same. The perfect cup becomes a hindrance. And as your ass burns on the leather seat you're reminded: no matter where you go, there you
Your Favourite In-Flight Meals Delivered
I went through a “I really want to get into the New Yorker” phase (read: still very much in it). I wrote this piece about the absurdity of air travel and niche startups, but I never actually sent it in. If you have a plug, let a girl know.
Hi, we’re FliteBite (formerly PlaneChew), a new meal delivery service bringing the excitement of airline dining to your door each week. Feel like you’re speeding through the air towards endless possibilities while you enjoy authentic, airline-inspired meals optimized for on ground consumption.
Choose from a wide range of popular meals:
Hot, well-done beef in a creamy mayonnaise(?)-based sauce with potatoes and dehydrated spinach
A generous serving of boiled hake with poached fennel and our famous rock hard broccoli
Unseasoned chicken breast with the ghost of evaporated sauce, jasmine rice
Melt in your mouth pasta with a tomato paste and water reduction, finished with a light dusting of Vaguely Parmesan
*We have vegan options! Try our chickpea “curry” with peppers and onions over a bed of white rice that’s been dyed green and topped with a pat of butter (Is that vegan?)
All our meals come with the delicious accoutrements you’re accustomed to:
Three small lettuce leaves, one tomato and one pittance of goat’s cheese - we forgot to include dressing so you’ll just have to eat it dry
Aged apple slices and one grape
A strawberry yogurt. Yes, we know it’s dinner
Hard rye rolls. Before you ask, we only have rye left. Next time pay more for economy plus and you might get a white roll
Our secret recipe Tiramisu. Fine, we’ll tell you. Wafer-thin particle board layered with instant coffee and topped with a generous helping of Swiss Ma’am™ hot cocoa powder
Plastic knife, blunt metal fork that renders it useless for eating or stabbing
Moist wipe
Our meal plan tiers:
Steerage $54.95/week - Our basic meal plan with your choice of four delicious meals a week. By the time we get to you most of them will be sold out, so you get what’s left.
Economy Plüs $74.95/week - Exactly the same meals as steerage, but feel free to lean your seat back while you eat.
Business $899.95/week - High-quality giclée-printed menu, mild to moderate burn from a hot towel, expedited wine delivery, and the knowledge you’re paying ten times as much as everyone else.
First Class (market) - We don’t know what goes on in first class. Champagne? We’ll just send you money and a plastic knife.
Choose a delivery time that works for you, but we’ll probably come by while you’re sleeping.
As our gift to you, every meal comes with a limited-edition bespoke scent to enhance your dining experience:
Too Much Perfume
Burning Mechanical Smell
Baby (Non good-smelling)
Terminal 3 Philly Cheesesteak
Going To The Bathroom In Socks
Sorry My Dog Had An Accident, It Was Probably All The Pulled Pork I Fed Him at Guy’s Rad Rocker Airport Bar Before We Boarded
Want even more ambiance? Your membership comes with a free audio CD* of the unmistakable sounds of a 17 hour flight, including:
Babies screaming in the round, the guy next to you hacking, a toddler playing an iPad game at full volume and slamming his head into the seat, a woman yell-talking about her daughter’s volleyball scholarship, hacking guy again, someone slowly figuring out how a bathroom door works, “Is anyone a doctor???”, a bachelor party ringing the call button and yelling SPRING BREAK, different hacking guy, the collective sound of 250 people taking off their shoes, and much, much more.
Please stow your tray tables and return your seats to their full upright and locked position, because we’re about to take off! Join early and enjoy our Sky Elite member pricing locked in for one year if you order in the next 10 days.
*You must return the audio CD if you cancel your membership within one year