Name: Daniel Taroy
Role at Fast Company: Social media producer. I manage multiple social media accounts—for Fast Company and the Co. sites—and engage with Fast Company’s audience and followers on a daily basis. The majority of what you read on our Facebook or Twitter comes from me, so…blame me if you hate it (hope you don’t!).
Titillating fact: Meryl Streep and I are best friends. Not actually, but at my last job, I met her at a photo shoot we had in Washington, D.C. I greeted her in our hotel lobby, where we shook hands and her first words to me were, “I’m Meryl” (duh). We made small talk as I helped her into her car to the White House, where the photo shoot was taking place. Then we met up with my other best friend, Michelle Obama. Needless to say, it was a magical day.
Things he’s loving:
1. Carly Rae Jepsen’s E•mo•tion
Yes, I’m talking about Carly Rae of “Call Me Maybe” fame and no, I’m not kidding—I need everyone to understand just how incredible this LP is. Resplendent, even. Forget Taylor who and 198-what: this is the ’80s throwback album we need and deserve. Per the album title, each track is as big and sweeping as the emotion it evokes (I’m really into the flippancy of “Boy Problems” and the righteous fury of “When I Needed You”), a burst of technicolor that’ll have you belting in the shower as I so often do. It’s fun without being mindless, and it’s absolute perfect pop.
This is an Australian comedy I stumbled upon by accident during its first season (thanks Tumblr!) before it found an American home on Pivot—and it’s the best TV show you’re definitely not watching. People have lazily compared it to HBO’s Girls, not just because creator Josh Thomas writes for and stars in it, but because it’s another show about a group of twentysomethings tiptoeing toward adulthood. But don’t let that deter you; you’re unlikely to find another show that handles humor and real-life darkness as deftly as PLM does. Just watch the pilot, which opens with the main character, Josh, discovering he’s gay because his girlfriend tells him so, and ends with him having to move in with his mom after her failed suicide attempt. It’s hilarious, heartbreaking, and endlessly re-watchable. Season three starts next month, so it’s time to binge-watch…again.
I’m a dog person who can’t have a dog in his apartment, so I have a cat named Franny instead. Our relationship is resentful at worst and dispassionate at best: a direct result of having to share space in a tiny Brooklyn apartment, or that one time she dug a claw into a surgical incision on my stomach (and I threw her across the room by accident). I still love her, of course, even when it saps up all my remaining energy at the end of the day to do so. It’s a baffling dynamic, and one that I’ve never seen written out quite so honestly as it is in Jen Vafidis’s essay. Consider it a must-read for anyone who secretly hates their cat—as I suspect many of you do.