Katherine moved to New York, after decades of pining, in 2010. She will not rest until she has met Grover Monster and eaten every pork bun in the city. She lives in Brooklyn but re-blogs a lot of posts regarding Baltimore. (Seriously though, if you know how I can meet Grover, get in touch.)
Nellie Bly was a groundbreaking journalist, both for women in the field, and for the field itself. She traveled around the world, but also pioneered healthcare reporting by feigning insanity to go undercover at a mental institution. Her expose helped change the field for the better. You can learn more about her at PBS!
Obligatory reblog. I may not be a true journalist, but where would my aspirations and I be without Nellie Bly and April O’Neal?
For Paste’s Comedy Issue — yes, this is very first cover story — I wrote about kids, race, Wayne Brady and what Comedy Central’s Key & Peele has to do with all that. (If you have to sign up for a free trial to read, do it. I want to talk about these sort of things further, and Wayne Brady’s very busy.)
Over at MTV Hive, I wrote about what being called “soft” in hip-hop means now. I spent a year forming my thoughts, and I’m proud of how the piece turned out. My only regret is that I forgot to include André 3000’s guest verse off T..I.’s “Sorry,” the first thing I wanted to hear when I arrived home today, feeling small and stressed and isolated. Dré, I’m sorry.
Obligatoy reblog. Christine is brilliant, and I know her.
“It’s so important to stay true to yourself—despite the pressures your friends, family, or employer.” “If you’d known that earlier, what would you have done differently?” “I wouldn’t have been a stay-at-home mom. Because now I’m finding it so hard to re-establish myself in my field.”
“We were just at the playground and my daughter tried to get on the tire swing with another child, but the mother shooed her away. So I was just explaining to her that she shouldn’t spend energy on people who don’t want to accept her, because some people are just dicks. Whoops, sorry baby, Mama just cursed.”
Obligatory reblog. People are terrible, ice cream on the benches outside of the Brooklyn Museum is better.
Blue Ivy Carter was spotted in Brooklyn (haha) this weekend with her mom, and oh my gosh look how tall she is! Look at her workboots. Look at her ability to exist that close to a public trash can without freaking out.
She’s not fooling me into thinking she’s tougher than me, though.