Oh hi hello there. I'm Mallory Blair. I am a 23-year-old New Yorker, spending most of my time making Small Girls PR run.
Before landing on this page, you and I were only separated by a mere three degrees. Now we can be one on the web. That's not the definition of technological singularity but it should be.
With this tumblog, I promise kittens and balls of yarn for the kittens to play with. There will be some making out and a lot of hand-holding. I hope that when you are lonely and lost on the outmost corners of the interweb, you can come here and find yrself and feel the good vibrations. You are special and no one can touch that!
Before landing on this page, you and I were only separated by a mere three degrees. Now we can be one on the web. That's not the definition of technological singularity but it should be.
With this tumblog, I promise kittens and balls of yarn for the kittens to play with. There will be some making out and a lot of hand-holding. I hope that when you are lonely and lost on the outmost corners of the interweb, you can come here and find yrself and feel the good vibrations. You are special and no one can touch that!
Your Pal Mal
Lorrie Moore’s response to the question, “Why is your novel about a 20-year-old girl?”
oomb:
Here’s the thing about being 20 years old. It’s actually the universal age of passion. It’s the age at which nature and form come together and your individual passion achieves its final shape and expression. When, later in life, when you’re older, you feel furious, it’s the fury of a 20-year-old. When you fall in love, it’s the love of a 20-year-old. It’s articulate, it’s visceral, it’s platonic. It’s the pure form of the emotion. When you observe the hypocrisies and injustices of the world, and feel shocked and betrayed by them, you’re actually being 20 again. And yet, you’re just shy of being able to drink. How perfectly completed, and thwarted, at the same time.
(via here)
I am only 20-years-old for another month- egad.
