Annual gun deaths in Japan: <10. America: 33,000

This is mind-blowing:

America’s gun homicide rate is 25 TIMES HIGHER than other developed countries.

Really pissed Trump is blaming the latest school shooting on mental health without even acknowledging access to guns is way too easy. ONLY 4-6% of people who commit criminal gun violence are mentally ill. Thanks for adding to mental health stigma, Tr*mp.

Stuff you can do:


spring 2018 boho vibez

Feeling very pastel-pink-yellow-blue, California, soft flowy hippie, vintage florals ‘n’ daisies, faded embroidered jeans with a flowy white top:

kinda the opposite of rock ‘n’ roll joan jett dark edgy shit.

Inspired by the Washington Post’s In/Out list, here’s mine, which boils down to “out with trying so hard to be a badass; in with being a softy”:

Out with… In with…
Irish coffee Green tea with honey and lemon
Hot pink hair Bleached blonde
Black lace-up jeans Faded embroidered mom jeans
Ankle boots Clogs and mary janes
Snarling and glowering Naps and hugs
Resentment Vulnerability

(I mean, who wouldn’t want their seasonal style aesthetic to be “weeping openly in a coffeeshop”?!)

Wut’s yer 2018 style vibe?

34 fave things from my 34th year

I mean if Oprah can do it, right?!

forgive my use of Paint. i don’t have Photoshop anymore


  1. the Kaylor fandom on Tumblr
  2. Floss Gloss nail polish (my nails currently look like a disco ball thanks to Mo)
  3. Women Who Love Too Much. life. changing.
  4. the Headspace app. started meditating this spring and digging it.
  5. the Shakespeare room at the Sylvia Beach Hotel
  6. seeing Tove Lo with Jake
  7. GLOW on netflix
  8. seeing Radiohead live for the first time
  9. a trip to Sante Fe (sisser + SUN!)
  10. getting a cat tattoo (how it took me this long i don’t know)
  11. going to Cape Disappointment after getting dumped #friendship
  12. karaoke. cure for what ails ya
  13. a one-night improv class
  14. soaking. pools. (aka drinking in a ginormous hot tub)
  15. Shakespeare in the Park
  16. an escape room
  17. an eclipse wedding
  18. bath bombs
  19. a girls’ escape here and a “secret” passageway
  20. a murder mystery party
  21. pusheen
  22. rainbow everything
  23. Cougar Town
  24. Stash mango passionfruit tea
  25. “Create a life that feels good on the inside, not one that just looks good on the outside.”
  26. “Do no harm but take no shit.”
  28. my boo ❤
  29. comfy comfy pink danskos
  30. stars hearts sprinkles and watermelons
  31. Cupcakke
  32. ethical/fair trade fashion via kell
  33. darling distraction
  34. my pink artificial christmas tree

happy hollydays to youuuuu!

yes you should get a buzz cut

women with buzz cuts




i’m holly, and i’m here to tell you it’s awesome

aesthetic: unemployed art teacher

After slowly starting to get my (fashion) groove back in July, I’ve been testing the waters of ~*~*waCkY dReSsInG*~*~ even more and found it to be A DELIGHTFUL BURBLY HOT TUB OF MAGICKZ, not unlike the strawberry jacuzzi milkshake machine in Good Burger:

Ahem. Anyway, the thing is, I can mix prints and mismatch stuff and–SHH–it turns out you won’t get fired for that shit! IN FACT, nobody really cares at all! (And sometimes strangers on the street are even complimentary!) Am considering banning black from my wardrobe, perhaps even all neutrals/solid colors forever (but let’s not get too wacky amirite). Newfound look hereby dubbed UNEMPLOYED ART TEACHER. Witness:

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do your thing (or The Incredible Jessica James)

<< Just watched this (the movie, not the trailer) and it gave me all the feels.

First of all, it’s awesome. It’s like Bridesmaids meets Broad City meets…Frances Ha. Or something. Love + confusion + heartbreak + doing that thing you have to do, despite rejection.

As “pretentious white millennial” as it sounds, I’ve been having a mini existential crisis lately around writing, or my identity as a Writer. Main problem: comparing myself to other people. Specifically, other writers I’ve worked with whose careers have taken off. I quit Twitter because I couldn’t squelch the comparisons: They had more followers, more little public side-convos with Important People, more retweets, faster and wittier quips about current events. Just typing it makes me re-feel how sour and twisty (to borrow Shonda Rhimes’ word) I felt, like paper burning or a leaf curling in on itself. The opposite of expansive. When other writers were getting better and better writing gigs, getting book deals, I felt like I was floundering. I lack the backbone and financial independence to freelance full-time (the year I did was terrifying, although not bankrupt) and the confidence to relentlessly, constantly self-promote. It’s self-doubt, not humility.

So I withdrew. “Don’t play no game that I can’t win.” Best to give up on writing, to slink away from an over-crowded field stuffed with self-important megaphone-holders and become a plumber, right? I went to a career counselor, investigated different fields, thought interior design was a good fit (maybe it still is).

But if I’m honest, writing will always be my #1. It’s what I lose myself in, the only thing that can make me forget to eat lunch (LUNCH! glorious lunch), the thing I do for absolutely no reason other than I like it and I have to do it or I’ll go mad. Journaling keeps me sane. Typing this is my way of trying to make sense of life. If someone I knew was a mediocre musician in a random band, I wouldn’t tell them to give up and become an actuary; I’d respect that they were at least TRYING. Why can’t I extend that kindness, patience, and appreciation to myself?

Which brings me to The Incredible Jessica James. No spoilers, but at one point, Jessica is questioning herself, and her idol basically says, Well, you’re doing the thing, aren’t you? You NEVER really arrive as a creative person; you just have to do whatever it is you do. Like the cliché that a writer is someone who writes. I’m writing this blog post, therefore I’m a writer! Not that imma confuse myself with Shakespeare or Nora Ephron or Lindy West anytime soon. But doing the thing is how you get better at it. Trying and showing up is 90% of it, right? (End paragraph full of clichés.)

Anyway, that scene made me cry. I’ve felt like such a complete and utter FAILURE as a writer lately. But I can’t just give up because I found some people who’re better than I am. There will ALWAYS be people better than me. That’s a wack reason not to do something.

There’s no neat, tidy end here…I have no resolutions to pitch my stuff to XYZ website, or submit one thing a month. I have no goals. For right now, it’s enough to say to myself, You’re a writer. You write. You love writing. You aren’t the best–AND THAT DOESN’T MATTER ONE BIT. All I can do is be gentle and honest with myself and go from there.