Status Updates From Whip Smart: A Memoir

Aside from a couple of frustrated maudlin affairs with straight girls in my adolescence, I had only ever dated women who looked like boys. First I had gone from the dreamy, long-skirted, messy-haired girl to the pony-tailed high-school jock, and then the androgynous downtown college hipster, all the way to the androgynous downtown hipster transgender boy, female-to-male.

[ew the narcissism]

I needed money before I could make that call [to the dealer]. In fact, I needed money for more than that. Life in New York cost more than it had in Boston, from subway fares to food. I only accepted the bare minimum from my parents…

[ok I think that phrase is a dealbreaker - can anyone who writes that understand the world?]

If that great red-walled room was a womb, I was its heart.

[huh? like the heart of an embryo? or like a really really dangerous internal hernia?]

Rereading for book club!