This is gonna be short because I like my goodbyes like my birth control: nonexistent and followed by a prayer.
When I first started at Jezebel, the winter before the site launched in 2007, I was a 27-year-old kid with more guts than sense who thought she had something to prove. One of the many things I've learned in the past eight years is that I actually don't have to prove myself to anyone as my awesomeness has been so fucking blatantly obvious this entire time and my only regret is that I ever—even for one moment—gave a flying fuck about what some asshole had to say about it.
While I am so, so excited to be starting my next chapter at Vice, it's also really sad to end this one. My co-workers at Jezebel and Gawker Media are my best friends. I love them so much and I've been crying trying to write this fucking thing and my eyelash extensions are falling off. I'd rather tell them all privately what they mean to me as we ride on a stripper pole party bus to Medieval Times tonight that Gawker is paying for.
Anyway, you can follow me on Twitter if you think you'll miss me. And here are some things to remember me by: