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Tag Archives: 50/50

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And Then I Learned About Makeup

As it turns out, makeup application has changed since I was a nine-year-old attendee of my second-ever slumber party. Anointing the lips with mauve, smearing cheeks with hot pink, and using artistic grace to apply rose, gold, emerald and fuchsia in nonrainbow order — as I did to Courtney, the only girl brave enough to […]

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What Is “Pre-Production,” Anyway?

Quite a few cats (and people) have asked me what exactly it is the 50/50 team has been up to since our Kickstarter ended. Simply put, we’ve been in pre-production. Could we be more nebulous? Not really. Let’s unpack that a bit. Pre-production basically means that we’re doing everything humanly possible to have a smooth(ish) […]

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Packing/Unpacking

I’ve been doing the literal kind of packing — rolling clothes into tiny balls and hoping they won’t wrinkle. But it turns out that part of this process is a figurative unpacking — running into old boyfriends and sussing out unanswered questions. In go the block-colored kitten heels. Out comes the confession that we cannot be friends. […]

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Call it Chicken Salad

I feel like my heart is a throat lozenge, residing just beneath my tonsils and keeping the back of my tongue numb. I can feel her presence, ensuring my larynx won’t cause me any pain and blocking my vocal chords from doing anything detrimental, such as taking it all back – the leaving of the […]

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Saying Goodbye in Order to Say Hello

Oy. One of the hardest parts about making a choice to do something – like dating in every state – was that when I said yes to adventure, I was inevitably setting myself up to also saying goodbye. Before I get to the fun part of all this – dolling up, dating, and forcing Megan to listen to […]

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Forward Motion

Journeys are about making a choice, and holy skate-shop, Batman, I sure as heck never dreamed a message on a Volcom sweatshirt would be the deciding factor for what will be the most gutsy endeavor I’d ever take on. Yet ten years ago, a girl stood in front of me, with script across her cotton […]

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