Gossiping ≠ Talking Shit

What I actually wanted to say was “no.”

Thank you Emerson, but I’m transferring.

I am my own cheerleader.

A fun fact about me is that I’ve never been relaxed… ever.

*Googles* “How to stand on business?

I care about other people’s opinions.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I have no friends.

Reese, what do you want to do with your life? I don’t know.

An obituary for all the Doggies out there. 

At work, a young girl taught me all there is to know about Yayoi Kusama. I was shocked at her level of knowledge and the fact that she learned it all in public school. This interaction made me reflect on my experience with art as a child and my thoughts on educating younger generations. 

Working at a museum gives me plenty of time to people-watch. Guests are unaware of my presence and act like no one can see them in the dimly lit exhibits. I get to observe them in their most vulnerable state, the one where they forget the people around them.

I’d like to say I was a secure person; however, I know my habits and fears from my chubby childhood will stay with me forever.

This is for the hometown heroes—the friends that turned into family.

Having a crush is humiliating and invigorating all at once. When I have a crush it consumes me, and I’m ashamed of this consumption.

Having to put effort into finding hobbies and staying healthy used to stress me out. I decided to kill two birds with one stone and become a runner like everyone else in Boston.

For me, the shower is the only place I can’t feel the eyes of anyone else on me, and I let myself do something I’d never imagine in the public eye—dance, like crazy style.  

Everything I do, a little piece of my mom is with me — and now when I’m puking from cramps, I’ll have to be reminded of her, too.

I visited a former convent when I was abroad, and instead of teaching me about biblical history, I realized I’m not passionate about anything.

I’m too lazy to be passionate about anything. I wish someone would just tell me what to like so I can stop searching for something cool and unique enough to make me an interesting person.

No, she can’t.

The New Year is something that I should be celebrating, but I am spending it curled up in bed telling myself I should be applying to summer internships yet not being able to peel myself away from my phone or silly crafts.

People idolize the relatable, messy female leads of movies like Frances Ha and Shiva Baby because they make viewers feel better about their own lives. 

Before leaving, I enjoyed things like laying in my bed and talking to myself or walking around aimlessly, but now I feel strange trying to force myself to be as excited about my hometown.

My love for Stephen King and all his works began not with any of the iconic film adaptations, but rather with the thrilling, disturbing novel Misery.

Truly great directors should not be afraid to fail, and we should support artists even when they do so.

My digital footprint contains no shortage of articles, essays, and rants about my second favorite movie of all time, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me.

Sometimes there is no salve as healing as an uncontrollable, guttural fit of sobbing.

The joy in discovering a new classic, a hidden gem that when it gets a wide release, will become the movie everybody’s been talking about, is a delicious, nearly indescribable high.

I find that the haunted house is merely an empty setting, waiting to be filled with dastardly, dreadful horrors any specific imagination conjures up.

I yearn constantly for theaters like the Brattle and the Coolidge Corner Theater to release their up

If there is a cure for loneliness, for being wrought with boredom and distressed in monotony, it can likely be found at the movies.

There’s merit in film as meditative art just as there is merit in film as entertainment.

This film is just so spectacular, so over-the-top, so ridiculous and hilarious that it begs to be seen on the big screen — or for me, on any screen, as often as possible.

And if you disagree, I don’t care — that’s why it’s The Karenna Oscars. 

Like Ocean’s Eleven for the doomed generation, How To Blow Up A Pipeline is a thrilling heist film hinging on the urgency of the crime.

I’ve always, consciously or not, searched for Asian American women in media, people who looked like me. Multiple recent films have celebrated Asian-American and immigrant culture so beautifully that I will never forget how special it is that I get to exist at the same time as them. 

Unlike other films that invoke fear of our unknowable futures, Her examines a persisting loneliness, one that can’t be cured by new technology. Innovative, fascinating technologies don’t squander or dispel our humanity.

As a college student, I’ve had my fair share of dreary late nights caught walking around the city, mostly because there is some sort of incredible power and self-assurance in knowing that I can.

Oh, the concert film. Swaths of fans, tight intimacy, winks to the camera, audience sing-alongs, and everything in between.

Though the popularity of Parasite has increased demand for watching more international films in America, our U.S.-centric watching habits still largely inhibit our ability to watch and learn from so many beautiful international films.

Together, agents Murtaugh and Riggs find their magnetic chemistry and humorously dangerous banter to create a fantastic partnership – and an even better friendship.

In a world marred by destruction and peril, we must persist, we must trust ourselves and our dreams, and live as colorfully as possible.

Out of two recently released, IFF (Independent Film Festival) Fall Focus-screened new releases set in Massachusetts, Eileen is definitely not the feel-good one.

It is difficult to watch and difficult to even attempt to understand – but I see this as the power and intention of the film, a skill to be celebrated and adored. 

Fall, also known culturally as ‘cuffing season,’ can often feel a lot like a lower-stakes version of The Lobster.

Despite the sorrow, grief, and pain, there is something hopeful in every shot; that there is love in this emptiness. 

It takes good and evil as concepts and blurs them; what happens when evil as a concept becomes evil as tangible action.

The intimacy in any movie screening can be so meaningful, but a repertory or otherwise famous, beloved cult film screening takes this to another level.

Creating a successful twist means taking full advantage of every aspect of the art of filmmaking; every step and hand movement, minuscule colors, and cinematic details, everything changes meaning when you reveal the twist. 

Scorsese isn’t calling to abolish all MCU/comic book movies, but he instead is concerned about how these movies are pushing out independent, lesser-known films.

Once you mint yourself any sort of film expert, the logical next step is, of course, to assert your expertise over anyone who watches movies less ‘seriously’ than you do.

If you’re looking for a fast, sweet, and sexy read, Untether is perfect. I love me some smut.

I love lesbians and thespians. I love lesbian thespians. Did I mention my girlfriend is an actor?

Well, I could never be actually done. But I’m sick of bad writing.

While she makes it clear they’re platonic dates, that line is quickly blurred as we get to know these two…

Well, not exactly. It’s like OnlyFans circa 2014– it’s jankier and there’s no paywall to see naked people.

Does your Twilight phase ever really leave you? Or does it haunt your romance reads for the rest of your adult life? 

Okay, maybe they only take over Bright Falls, Oregon. But we’ve got to start somewhere.

And people wonder why I’m a lesbian when men are acting like this…

 I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?

Have you ever been trapped in a serial killer’s den with maggots on your tail and found that a fellow serial killer is your only reprieve? Me neither. But apparently, it’s all the rage.

I’m sorry if you also have an evil ex. But hey, maybe one day you’ll have a romance blog where you talk about sex and love and you too can write about them instead of committing arson.

Divorce is like a break-up but with more on the line. For example, I would only tell you to get back with your ex if he was a billionaire.

Happy 2024. The smut is only getting better this New Year.

That’s right, I read about sex somewhere other than my Kindle. And it was awesome.

I know, for a fact, you can’t fix him in real life, but here’s to living vicariously through women who can.

My best friend Regan has been with me through thick and thin— and she introduced me to my first smutty romance novel. Isn’t that what friends are for?

My favorite pastime is giving my readers whiplash. Last week: sexy priests. This week: young adult romantasy.

CODE RED: My mom found my blog. I think my life is over.

This book was powerful enough to rip me right out of a reading slump and launch me back into my happy, sappy romance homeostasis.

 Tropes are essential to the romance genre, but they’re also essential to your favorite Tarantino movie. Sue me, film bros.

Three words: Single. Dad. Romance. Enough said.

Ana Huang has taken over the world. Okay, maybe not the entire world. But my world and for a voracious reader, that’s pretty impressive.

So, you might be wondering: Where’s the romance, Charlotte? Where’s the drama? If we didn’t get a sex scene earlier, when do we get one? Hold your horses (see what I did there?)…

“Having you think I’m out fucking everything that moves when I’ve looked at nothing and no one since the first day I laid eyes on you.” - Rhett Eaton, Flawless

When I envisioned this blog, I didn’t see myself being a mouthpiece for Mafia romance books but J.T. Gessinger continues to rope me into loving crazy plotlines.

Really? Another sports romance genre? What’s the difference, the male protagonist can skate?

Maybe it’s all the Gemini placements in my birth chart, but long conversations are always the most intimate and exciting part of getting to know someone.

Wake up, smell the roses, and go ghost.

I have never felt so genuinely excited about someone before and he is a potential option for future me, but I’m truly just so bored by everyone else.

I view poetry as more sacred now; when I write about someone they have to truly mean something to me.

Honestly, what I remember the most was wanting to escape being here.

Before I’m a romantic, I’m a skeptic.

Being either ignored or made fun of by tween/teenage boys did a number on my psyche.

I’ve had many be taken aback at my statement, roll their eyes, or even start begging for it in a very temper tantrum-esque way.

Well, now that we’re acquainted, let’s get into the juicer bits…