Winona Dimeo-Ediger

I grew up way out in the country, and lying in bed at night I used to gaze out my window and think, “Maybe someday I’ll live in a cool apartment in the city where I can walk to stuff.” That was literally my big dream of far-off adulthood.

Me: Alright, hit me with some suggestions.

Holiday Gift Guide: Drum roll, please! How about… a tie?!?

How does that old cliché go? “Love is not a noun, it’s a verb”? Loving your body is a verb. It’s an action — and in many ways it’s a sacred and defiant one.

With the country spiraling deeper into a fascist hellscape on a daily basis, it’s hard to keep track of all the things to be outraged abo

The other day I met up with my friend Paige at a coffee shop. She went to the bathroom, came back, and said, “So, the toilet paper roll was empty, and I almost didn’t put a new roll on, but then I thought, ‘Be the change you want to see in the world,’ and I changed it.” She beamed triumphantly, and I said, “Paige, you’re a hero.”

In 1897, a little girl named Virginia O’Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of the Sun, asking if there was a Santa Claus.

Winona,

You, dear senators, have been busy trying to bring about the apocalypse, which doesn’t leave a lot of time for self-care.

"Cute dress!" "This? I literally found it in a dumpster behind Baja Fresh."

12. Was someone just like, “I have a great idea: let’s shave part of a goat and then kind of ball up the hair and glue a pin on the back and call it a goat hair brooch”?