This zine reminds me of the punk rock girls I used to get long-distance crushes on when I was a teenager. I would admire their beautiful intensity from a distance at concerts but be too afraid to talk to them. Tess’s lessons in love and anti-depressants make me wish I had. I also wish she didn’t apologize halfway through Superfly about her lack of rants. You don’t have to be angry all the time. Sometimes reminiscing is much more touching: “I miss sitting on the fire escape with my head on your stomach, wondering when you were going to realize you should kiss me…, I miss wading in fountains with crazy Austrian boys and singing Bratmobile songs on our low rider bicycles.” I miss not being able to hear the music to “My Rockabilly-Country Love Song Ode to My Rude Boy (Parts One and Two).” And I missed doing the ska wordsearch but appreciate its presence just like I appreciate Tess and Superfly. (TD)
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