My first tribe was my college rugby team. They helped me understand my queer identity and they are still some of my best friends.
I love rafting rivers, but I’m terrified of drowning. I’m even more terrified of seeing my kids drown. Every river day is exhilarating and terrifying.
I met my partner, Travis, in South Bend, Indiana, when I was 21 years old. I had a shaved head, I was wearing a muscle shirt that said “We May Be Small but We’re Slow,” and I was carrying stolen yard flamingos under both arms. He couldn’t resist me.
I have a small but treasured collection of heart rocks.
My self-published memoir, Solar-Powered Sex Machine, only sold a handful of copies, but it was way more educational than grad school.
I can land an airplane on a dirt strip. Thanks, Dad.
I have deep-fried a turkey for Friendsgiving in the desert.
Long live Greta Thunberg, Roxane Gay, Rachel Maddow, Elizabeth Warren, Kamala Harris, Tammy Duckworth, Abbi and Ilana, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and all the honey badgers and suffragettes. RIP RBG.