I leaned on my childhood dogs (pictured ft. teen me with acne) a lot growing up for companionship and emotional support.
The pets I’ve had in my adult life have all been with me at differing stages of my life and have grounded me and given me a sense of purpose in taking care of them even when I had nothing else and felt like I was doing everything wrong in life.
My dog Benny is teaching me to be patient and how to handle frustration and take care of the needs of a very sensitive emotional creature lol…
My cat Bunny is very shy and odd due to illness she suffered as a kitten that led her to be quarantined, which can be frustrating to me sometimes because I kind of wish she would be more like the two cuddly gregarious cats I’ve had who I lost before their time. But I looked at it from another point of view yesterday and had the thought that maybe I bonded with my other cats instantly because they weren’t going to be with me for very long, but my life with Bunny is going to be something that unfolds over the span of many years so our bond is going to take more time to develop and maybe someday it’ll be just as strong if not stronger. I think that’s beautiful 🥹
Oct 20, 2024
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I adopted my cat almost 3 years ago after going my whole life thinking I wasn’t a cat person. After watching my dear friends take care of their dorm cat (Beef!) I fell in love. I never quite understood cats- I always saw them through my child eyes as being elusive and standoffish. After solidifying my friendship with Beef I realized how strong the bond between cat and (wo)man can be- because it’s earned. My precious Duchess was the crustiest cat at the shelter but when she opened her big sapphire eyes I knew we were a destined pair. Duchess has sat with me through two heartbreaks, the hardest year of my life, multiple moves, long car rides, and many, many, sleepless nights. To say she’s my best friend isn’t totally correct- I feel she is truly a part of the fabric of my being. She has helped me trust myself to care for another living being, loved me on my most rotten days, and cuddled me when I’m sad (even though she pretends she hates it). I never knew such a small creature could change my entire world. On the loneliest days she licks my hand with her scratchy tongue and lays her head on my legs and I suddenly the darkness isn’t so dark. Thank you Duchess, my sweet girl, my forever love.
Feb 6, 2025
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I have (and have had) many pets since I was a wee girl- newts, bunnies, terriers, gerbils, frogs, iguanas, fish, hedgehogs, and I’ve loved each of them with all I’ve got. But over the last few years, I’ve found my truest passion is raising kittens (don’t tell my dogs, who seem 100% sure the cats are just disruptive indignities I must suffer to get back to them.) Kittens are nature’s anti-depressant, the best reality show you’re not watching and a totally inspiring example of the mindfuck that is evolution. I mean, these little creeps have been designed by a Higher Power to look adorably lost, impossibly needy… and then BAM they’re opening all your doors and eating all your salad and looking down at you from the bookshelf like you’re the help in a Downton Abbey sequel. Plus, on a soppy note, a teensy rescue kitten is the example of tenacity we all need- they don’t give up as they go from fetal bird confusion to diabolical emperor. Any opportunity to foster, raise and/or unleash kittens on their next willing fin-dom arrangement is one of my higher callings. At the moment, two young ‘ens are staring at me from a cactus shaped condo in the corner of our bedroom. Another eight year old adoptee/Garfield doppelganger is on a reduced calorie diet upstairs so that he can maintain his heart health and travel in something smaller than the laundry hamper. Look at us! We’re a chic literary salon but I’m the only one who can read (I think. I have one cat who can probably read, she just does it at night when I’m not looking.)
Jan 3, 2023
My first cat that I ever had as an adult; she sat on the doorstep outside of my building one day and followed me into my apartment and that was it. The ultimate velcro cat and she came declawed which I would never do to an animal but it worked out really well for my rabbit and my beautiful vintage furniture. I lost her to lymphoma three years ago and it felt like the end of my adolescence because she had been there for all of it. I think I really prefer the personality of long-haired cats but don’t tell my cat Bunny…
Jan 18, 2025
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My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌
Feb 23, 2025
Schedule sent my resignation email for the morning, effective immediately ✅💅
Feb 27, 2025
🖐
I’ve been thinking about how much of social media is centered around curating our self-image. When selfies first became popular, they were dismissed as vain and vapid—a critique often rooted in misogyny—but now, the way we craft our online selves feels more like creating monuments.
We try to signal our individuality, hoping to be seen and understood, but ironically, I think this widens the gap between how others perceive us and who we really are. Instead of fostering connection, it can invite projection and misinterpretation—preconceived notions, prefab labels, and stereotypes. Worse, individuality has become branded and commodified, reducing our identities to products for others to consume.
On most platforms, validation often comes from how well you can curate and present your image—selfies, aesthetic branding, and lifestyle content tend to dominate. High engagement is tied to visibility, not necessarily depth or substance. But I think spaces like PI.FYI show that there’s another way: where connection is built on shared ideas, tastes, and interests rather than surface-level content. It’s refreshing to be part of a community that values thoughts over optics.
By sharing so few images of myself, I’ve found that it gives others room to focus on my ideas and voice. When I do share an image, it feels intentional—something that contributes to the story I want to tell rather than defining it. Sharing less allows me to express who I am beyond appearance.
For women, especially, sharing less can be a radical act in a world where the default is to objectify ourselves. It resists the pressure to center appearance, focusing instead on what truly matters: our thoughts, voices, and authenticity. I’ve posted a handful of pictures of myself in 2,500 posts because I care more about showing who I am than how I look.
In trying to be seen, are we making it harder for others to truly know us? It’s a question worth considering.
Dec 27, 2024