Rachel Profiling

Hello, I'm Rachel.

Writer/editor. New Mexican tumbleweed blown east to skyscraper country.

Right now, I am working on a book about F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sheilah Graham, and Hollywood in the 1930s. It will also contain a lot of drinking, powder blue suits, dances at the Cocoanut Grove, betrayal, gossip columns, crazy ladies, secret Jews, film lot moguls, and Dorothy Parker quips at funerals. If the world is still around then, it should be out from Random House around 2014. So let's hope the Mayans were wrong.

If you want to say hi please do. Or find me in short form, here.

OR oaxaca for guelaguetza, pure spectacle and chile gunpowder…i remember the last time i went i ate salted grasshoppers (aka chapulines) in a sort of ancho-scented street trail mix without knowing what they were, and they were good. holy mole, you can never really judge.

ok i’m done with this. but i think no matter what, i do want to go to guelaguetza for a few days this july. anyone want to come? for serious—it’s cheap and dirty from nyc. sidenote: i actually thought for a good amount of years (17-20?) that I would move to oaxaca when I hit the real world—I have peeps there who work for nonprofits and make vegan cookies and live in a bright blue country house with glazed tile floors and a turquoise roof. they like mezcal sours and heavy necklaces and grainy nortenas played out of a public megaphone. not exactly the path I ended up choosing, and i do love my skyscrapers and shoeboxes. but i still think about blue houses, especially this one, quite a bit.

Posted at 10:43am.

OR oaxaca for guelaguetza, pure spectacle and chile gunpowder…i remember the last time i went i ate salted grasshoppers (aka chapulines) in a sort of ancho-scented street trail mix without knowing what they were, and they were good. holy mole, you can never really judge. ok i’m done with this. but i think no matter what, i do want to go to guelaguetza for a few days this july. anyone want to come? for serious—it’s cheap and dirty from nyc. sidenote: i actually thought for a good amount of years (17-20?) that I would move to oaxaca when I hit the real world—I have peeps there who work for nonprofits and make vegan cookies and live in a bright blue country house with glazed tile floors and a turquoise roof. they like mezcal sours and heavy necklaces and grainy nortenas played out of a public megaphone. not exactly the path I ended up choosing, and i do love my skyscrapers and shoeboxes. but i still think about blue houses, especially this one, quite a bit.

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