Virgie Tovar

What horrible thing is going to happen this year? Is my aunt going to touch me or someone else inappropriately or make sexual innuendo? What terrible thing is my mother going to say to my aunt about her internet boyfriend who steals chicken from my grandparents’ garage freezer in the middle of the night?

The other night, I was eating capellini with asparagus and shrimp with a new friend/Babecamp Jamaica alum.

I can think of few things more worthy of celebrating on International Women’s Day than the slow and very public decline of a company that has capit

Last week I was sitting anywhere between nineteen and thirty-seven feet from Kevin Bacon.

I do conference calls from wherever I am at the moment. I answer work emails on the train, while I’m waiting in line for tacos, and (for better or worse) when there is a lull or awkward moment at a party.

It took me a long time to bury the dream of being thin. For some people it doesn’t take much to let go, and for others it’s a slow series of awakenings.

I have come to learn that most of the things I hate are things I can manage (if not eradicate) with boundaries, introspection, a sense of my needs as valuable, and the language to articulate what is happening.

On Sunday night, I went on a Christmas tree hunting expedition.

One of the things that has become exceedingly obvious to me is how our current cultural attitudes toward fat people are steeped in bigotry.

This week in Babecamp we were talking about Sarai Walker’s novel Dietland.