Jesse Pardee
Stories (15/0)
The Blame
A few posts back I wrote about not being able to remember myself before having had cancer. About how my old bedroom was a mausoleum to who I was pre-illness, and sometimes I just wish I could live one day without the weight of cancer survivorship pressing somewhere on my soul.
By Jesse Pardee4 years ago in Psyche
For Sean
I’ve been told people enjoy my writing. I know how narcissistic that sounds, but since I began blogging post-cancer, people have seemed genuinely interested in reading about a clueless girl dealing with her cancerous past, working through her repressed memories, swearing up a storm along the way—and then interested still in the “lens” of that same grown-up “girl-child” fumbling around New York City.
By Jesse Pardee4 years ago in Humans
- Top Story - November 2019
It Kinda Sounds like I Might Be StrangeTop Story - November 2019
The other day I was walking somewhere when all of a sudden I realized I was thirteen blocks further away from where I thought I was because “math” and so I hailed a cab that was stopped at a light and I was like ‘Can you just drop me at 40th because I’m lazy?’ and he was like “Sure it’s OK.” (when run-on sentences are a technique of your prose it’s OK).
By Jesse Pardee4 years ago in Motivation