Yasmin Nair

For those who live in cities where cabs and public transportation are plentiful and efficient and like to go on about the evils of ride-sharing: Stuff it. I get all the issues, but if I’d been on a hour and a half long el ride (perfectly  normal in Chicago, where the public transportation system is carefully designed to keep white people safe from everyone else who has to take circuitious routes to get anywhere), I don’t think I would have survived the massive pain for that long without killing myself or screaming, a lot.  

Unless you’re an actual — and Western-based — doctor, please don’t write to me to ask what I have and to diagnose my conditions without seeing me, or to tell me which magical Eastern plant or some hour-long cooking regimen and meditation really worked for you; I’m really not interested (using a Neti pot is what gave me an ear infection that lasted for nearly two years, so you’ll understand my irritation with “natural” remedies).

Remember the rule: Dance like you’re alone in your living room.  Email like every word you spit out could one day become part of something like a Jenny Holzer series set in Times Square.  With your name and address attached.