FROM THE VAULTS: xoJane Happened to Me!

I cannot believe I finally pulled this off.

In 2015, fresh out of school, I had absolutely no idea what to do, and even if I had known what to do with myself, I didn’t have two working braincells to rub together to accomplish any of it. But I managed to turn two of my favorite ‘bad job/bad roommate’ anecdotes into essays. I got them published on a real website: xoJane! I even got paid, an absolute miracle after four years of the word ‘student’ before all my jobs titles. Apparently student reporters don’t get paid.

And let me be clear: these essays are bullshit. They’re so dumb. They’re not funny, and I didnt have the guts to write the way I should have. The mortifying ordeal of being known, and all that. Even fresh out of school, I knew better. But I was a mess. I felt like I knew less about writing and about journalism by the time school ended. I skipped my graduation–a depressed 30 year old would look foolish in a cap and gown.

By landing an xoJane byline, I got to be a part of a Moment in internet history. Hundreds of sweet, earnest weirdos like me shared and commented on my silly, unexciting little story. They all said the sweetest, funniest things. These essays remain, from a pure numbers perspective, some of my most successful articles. They gave me the energy and confidence that school and life had sucked out of me, and I kept writing.

xoJane was wonderful and horrible and I spent hours reading it. I still use Cat Marnell’s party-girl beauty secrets. I’m still blocked on Twitter by a comedian who wrote a bonkers-racist article. So many of the people who wrote these weird, embarrassing little essays have grown up so beautifully (fuck that racist comedian though, she still sucks) and I’m so proud of us all.

So when the website vanished unceremoniously, I was heart-broken and relieved. I couldn’t figure out how to use the Wayback Machine, and I decided that was a sign. I forgot about them. But now that xoJane and that whole 2012-indie-sleaze-blogger culture is roaring back, I decided to try one more time.

Sharing these essays are the creative equivalent of posting baby pics–worse, really. I was an adorable child. Maybe someday I’ll tell these stories again, without getting scared. Until then, here’s a few little essays from another world:

xoJane: Worst Roommate Ever – He Lied About Having Cancer

xoJane: Worst Job Ever – She Threw the Phone at Me!