This time, I have a new, groundbreaking theory: there’s no such thing as grown-ups. A few years back, I wrote about the confusing nature of college — how, for all intents and purposes, you’re an adult, and yet you don’t know how to do anything without calling your parents for…

And is it this hard for everybody? I feel like a lot of the statements I make here are not necessarily pushing the boundaries of social commentary or personal essays or even worldly observations. I often state the obvious. …

Job searching is the worst. I know that’s not shocking news. Sending out application after application, putting time and effort into each one, only to get a form rejection letter — or sometimes, absolutely nothing — back is probably one of the circles of hell in Dante’s Inferno. Not to mention the interviewing process, where…

As someone who was once described as the “ultimate escape artist” by a cool aunt, I’m truly surprised that I have never talked about YouTube online. Anytime I’m looking for something to watch during lunch, before bed, while cleaning the bathroom, etc., I turn on YouTube. …

As the world descends further and further into incomprehensible chaos, I find myself looking through my bookshelf in my childhood bedroom. Alongside classics bought in a panic like What Color is Your Parachute? …

If you asked me in April who Tom Nook was and why he needed bells from me, I would’ve suspected that you were having a stroke. If you asked me the same question now, I would tell you that Tom Nook is a raccoon to whom I owe money. I’ve…

I have 14 tattoos. I’ve stopped counting for my own sake, but for the record, and to establish a bit of expertise here, I thought I’d let you know. They range from pieces that I put years of thought and meaning into, to pieces that I got on the way…

We used to play this game in elementary school gym class called “stuck in the mud.” It was like a game of tag, but if you were tagged, you had to stop running and stand in place — stuck in the mud. …

By Evi Arthur I cried the first time I had to leave my dorm room. Moving to Chicago my freshman year felt like a dream. Daydreaming of my future life in a big city had gotten me through high school. In my head, I’d lived in L.A., New York, Chicago…