Right off the bat, I was obsessed with performance and what I perceived to be wrong about the world. Like many liberal parents at the time, mine believed that television would melt my brain. We had a VCR set, but no cable whatsoever. It didn't help that I was a) determined to watch tv whenever and wherever I could, and b) any time I caught an errant scene of cruelty on a relative's Toshiba, I would not sleep or stop talking about it for weeks. While I grew up in a home filled with books and art, comedy was like this genre of feeling I discovered on my own in the dim glow of friends' basements. 

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At Sarah Lawrence, I ended up in a first-year Ancient Philosophy seminar, and was like—wait, Plato and Socrates talked about comedy in the same breath as democracy? That changed everything; I really did no longer feel like this cleft high-and-low brow being. I wanted to learn the way it really worked, turtles all the way down. I went on to major in Philosophy and Creative Writing; and co-founded the college's first all-women and non-binary sketch comedy group,  Andrew Skort. I figure if humor and truth are all about observation, then I have to understand what the hell I'm looking at and then how to describe it.

 

Since then, I worked in numerous positions (see: work) that have combined my passions in areas like juvenile justice reform and reproductive freedom with writing and meme-making. I have held more traditional communications roles in addition to more holistic editorial positions. 

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Currently, I am building my portfolio and broadening my skillset as a freelancer, while still doing all the things I normally do (crying in public places; trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty; living in Brooklyn with my geriatric Chihuahua, Goose.)

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