Bio

Amanda Long is ...

• the daughter of a convicted felon and granddaughter of a sexual abuser, according to a post from yesterday

• a writer and massage therapist based in Falls Church, Va., according to the byline in the last story I wrote for The Washington Post, almost a year ago

• the lil white lady who’s always running or dancing with her dog — my neighbors

• a muscle whisperer — one of several bumper stickers on my Honda Fit

• a badass — a necklace a client gave me and t-shirt I’ve yet to wear

• a S.L.U.T (sensitive, lovable, ugly-crier, trying) — a late-pandemic t-shirt that moves back and forth from the consignment pile

• a helper — one of those online tests my sister enjoined me to take

• she/her/hers — email signatures

• Nationally syndicated features writer and veteran business editor specializing in custom content for executive and corporate clients — the rest of the email signature

• a provider of therapeutic massage by appointment — the other email signature

• Massage therapist/writer/editor — LinkedIn bio

• Rose All Day, Diet Coke gummy LifeSavers and bananas lady — 7-11 cashiers

• my wife, Poohbear, Sunshine, Amanda June Temple Long — Robert

• the talkative one with good hands — Laser, the dog

• Most School Spirited, Freshman football homecoming candidate — The North Harrison H.S. Class of 1990

• the best daughter I could ask for — a recent text from Mom

• in #eatingdisorderrecovery — the hashtags

• a Hoosier — t-shirts, sweatshirts, bumpersticker, accent, the fact I can’t watch full games without crying

• an editor and headline junkie — an old LinkedIN bio I can’t access

• lives in Falls Church with her husband, Robert, and dog, Laser — an Arlington Magazine bio

• a frequent on-air caller and emailer — The Kojo Nnamdi Show and The 1A

• a dancer — viewers of Live with Kelly and Ryan (see photo) way too many IG reels, my hips, the people near me at concerts

• a terrible copyeditor of her own work — all the typos

• BFF — Jennifer, Julie, Nichole, Sheri, Chris, Julie and Maria

• Nighttime Mandy — John McCalla, the first time we went to Wolftrap in our too-short, effervescent friendship, as I danced to Rufus Wainwright

• WILCO LOVER, Tweedy family client — posters, t-shirts, ticket stubs, clips

• hypothyroid — one day at the doc when I was seven

• hyperthyroid — the next visit to the doc when I was seven

• someone with ants in her pants — anyone next to me on a plane

• the lady who comes alone, swims laps, tries to read and can’t sit still — the ladies at the pool (or my projection of them)

• A narrative thinker — all the stories I tell

• an early adopter of KT-tape — my CVS receipts and itchy knees

• A leaver of very long, often hard to understand, voicemails — the voicemails

• Soft-hearted, hard-headed and stubborn— an apt Taurus description

• a 2020 winner on “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me” the radio quiz show — my outgoing voicemail message, by Emmy-award-winning journalist Bill Curtis

• Junebug, Sis — Marty, my first real boyfriend (read: French kiss, notes passed) and the last person to sell my mom a car, from his family’s Ford dealership

• your biggest fan — all my interns and almost all of my coworkers

• an early bird — a hat my sister gave me for my birthday

• the neighbor to a a very loud cardinal — Merlin app

• a protestor and helper — my sign yesterday

• the coworker who stole your Wheat Thins and then threw them up in a bathroom on a different floor — this confessional essay

• A lot like Posh — her doc

• the best-dressed at the wedding, expect for the bride — the bride’s best friend and his husband

• still the one with the megaphone — the teen who shared hers with me at the March yesterday