HeyJaredLisa Writes About It
Writing about women and their relationships with risk, fear and discomfort, and sharing bright spots of humanity that are just "So Clutch."
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 4
- Latest publication
- Sep 30, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 8, 2026
Latest issues
Paying At The Pump (opens the original)
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It was only when I stepped outside of my car that I remembered what I was wearing. Boxer shorts, a tee I only sleep in and socks emblazoned with the face of Ruth Bader Ginsberg, pulled up as high as they could go. I was a sight.I hadn’t even thought about what I was wearing because, after a quick glance in the mirror, I had determined that my hair was okay for public consumption at this hour of the morning. It was my pass to wear anything, I apparently thought.I was only getting gas, after all.
Such A Tragedy (opens the original)
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The theater was warm, a regular tragedy that isn’t unexpected while living in the deathly grips of yet another desert summer. Several of us used our programs to fan ourselves. It gave me a new appreciation for the benefits of a thorough program — heavy enough to create real, if arrythmic, puffs of wind.I’d go so far as to say it was a little uncomfortable, almost as uncomfortable as this essay makes me — even while writing it. I debated if I should even talk about it. But, we’re this far, so her
A Lesson From The Oryx (opens the original)
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As we drove around the savanna, our canvas-topped truck carting us and a few strangers across the dirt paths that had been carved into the ground, a try-hard breeze was hoping to keep us cool. We weren’t in Africa. But we were as close as I’ve ever been.A young giraffe sat and chewed a cud with her legs tucked under her. A group of water buffalo snacked on the grass under their feet. A herd of antelope rested in the shade of a tree.Besides being every bit the wildlife lover, taking an obnoxious
Sometimes I Say Things (opens the original)
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Some time had passed before I started to notice sticky spots on my hands, the kind you get from holding an apple core too long. Apparently, I thought to myself, people who visit Audio Express just don’t ever have trash. That’s why there’s no baskets anywhere, I continued to narrate internally as I scanned the showroom for anything that resembled a trash can.Nope. Nothing.When I left the house, accepting an invite from my teenage son, I didn’t think I’d have to keep track of this core for so long
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