Betty Gilpin

And Other Concerns

All the Women in My Brain

Then she did the facial equivalent of my family crest. She crossed her eyes. I laughed in happy shock. A fellow fucking jester. I crossed mine. I took the other handle of the heavy cooler she'd been tasked with carrying as punishment for her innovative scrimmage tactic of sitting down on the ball. I taught her the word "horny." I held her when the captain of the lacrosse team microwaved her hamster. I called her last week to sing "Happy Birthday" in Korean to her second child. 

The dormant inherited darkness in me had sat patient for its entrance excuse, and Anthony Moretti breaking my heart was its 

. I plummeted into a sea of wanting to be dead, a sea that took me a long time to realize was not a reaction but a preexisting condition. Women's darkness is so much more inevitable and interesting than a broken heart; it's just sometimes the thing that gets us there. 

I had all these ideas but so much noise in the way.

My favorite kind of art is when someone tries their dark, silly, weird ideas. Those ideas will die in you if the loudest idea in your brain is: I should shut up.

Sex is gross and dirty. Good sex requires a rabid fascinations with the other person's body. Selfies are sterile and deceptive. They require a rabid fascinations with your 

 body. I picture the waste that must be the Adonni of LA having sex with each other, grossed out by each other's fluids, staring down at their own abs. 

All the Women in My Brain quotes

Join the club