Lagusta.com is the side project of one Lagusta, a vegan chef living in New Paltz, New York.

 Lagusta is a made-up hippie name (made up by my parents, that is) and has no meaning whatsoever. It’s a combination of Leonard and Augusta, 2 family names. It is not Italian or southern, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I am a chef. Kindly remember that it has a GUS in the middle, not a GOO. La-gus-ta, not La-gu-sta.

 I enjoy lagusta.com as a form of therapy. It has been pointed out to me that if one only knew “Lagusta” as she is described on lagusta.com, she would seem to be a terrible sourpuss and the sort of person no one would invite to their heavy-drinking-type party. In real life I am the most pleasant sort of sourpuss though, the kind who loves whiskey and life and getting into good political debates over lusty food and serves up my off-putting revolutionary radical viewpoints with an irresistible smile.

It’s just that I think the sort of therapy that you have to pay for is a crock of shit, so I use a website. I am ashamed of the majority of personal websites that are way too personal (Usually about things no one ever cares to know about, which always seems so tragic to me. Have you ever read a blog post where someone mentions that they went to the supermarket, then they link to the supermarket? The existential horror of this sometimes makes me want to weep.) but I still believe in the traditional feminist idea that the world splits open every time a woman tells the truth about her life.

Lagusta.com is not kept like a journal, and, name not withstanding, I always intended the actual Lagusta to be somewhat secondary to the political / social message of the essays  – ideally, Lagusta is supposed to be a metaphor, a Seymour Glass or Esther Greenwood, someone simply trying to be as honest as possible about the realities of life as a person with a heart.

However, some of the essays include biographical information out of context, which can be confusing. To clear up any confusion, here is a brief background.

I am thirty years old and live with my boychik of 11 years, Jacob. We own a thrift shoptastic house in New Paltz, NY where we live, work, and garden with our three cats, Sula, Noodle, and Cleo. I run a very small vegetarian home meal delivery service in the New Paltz and NYC areas.

A lot of my lying-in-bed-late-at-night time is spent thinking about how I should balance the three big needs of my life: making money to pay off college debt and buy things like legwarmers and solar pathway lights; artistic projects that make me feel whole; and political work that makes me feel that I am doing my part to stave off the apocalypse for one more day.

Note: on the rants pages you will notice some essay titles do not have links to the actual essay. That’s because, upon close editing, I decided they were awful and/or too personal for the internet. I also apologize for the lack of proper capitalization in the earlier essays. I had fancy ideas about the hierarchical nature of favoring some letters over others. Really.