I was late to yoga, and when I walked in, carrying too many things, everyone was already on their mats.
Yoga is still really new for me. It still feels awkward and difficult, and I’m still at the point where I feel really proud of myself for going. Look at you, being all healthy! I think, of myself, as I enter the building. I nod a modest “you’re welcome” to my dysfunctional spine. I am here for you, I think. Because I love you.
So even after arriving late, I was feeling pretty good about everything.
Ten minutes in, though, I noticed, while in some twisted, intimate pose, that there were holes in my pants. Exactly where you don’t want holes. Especially when you’re doing yoga, and the person behind you will see parts of your body that not even your kinkiest boyfriend wanted you to display like that. Oh no. This is bad.
The pants were black. My underwear was white. My only white pair, I think.
I craned my neck. There were three holes … no, five. In a row along the inner seam. Perfect. There’s my vagina. Keep reading »
You know how girls who are trying to lose weight tape pictures of sleek, gorgeous models to the fridge? I want a huge photo of Anjelica Huston, in “Smash,” on my wall, to remind me of what to aspire to.
Anjelica Huston is 60. And yeah, maybe she’s had some work done. And yeah, her hair is not its natural color. And yeah, she is wearing a lot of makeup. (Actually, that’s maybe my only complaint—all the makeup. I can tell that she’d be stunning without it.) But even with it, and the dyed hair, and the possible tweaking that seems inevitable for women over the age of 35 on television, she is still undeniably different. She is still strikingly unique. No one else looks even close to anything like her. And instead of letting this be a weakness, she makes it her signature. She makes it her strength. Instead of disappearing into the crowd, she stands at the middle of it and shouts until everyone turns to pay attention. And all eyes stay on her. Her look refuses to be typical. It refuses to be “appropriate.” And her character on “Smash” fits her look perfectly. She is Eileen Rand, a brash, determined producer who emerges from her wealthy, philandering ex-husband’s shadow to take the reins and put on a play that she thinks will sweep Broadway. Keep reading »
For the longest time, I have only had one guy friend. And I used to date him, in college. Which complicates things. It makes my husband Bear uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable, too. Not the him being my friend part. That’s fine. It happened naturally. We’re horrible gossips together. But I wish I could erase our dating past. I shouldn’t have dated him. Even while I was dating him, I was hazily aware of that.
I am bad at guy friends. I have only had a few. Which makes me totally uncool, I know. Keep reading »
You only live once, as far as I know, so you should do something different with your hair. When I cut all of my hair off, women were like, “You’re so brave! I could never do that!” I really didn’t feel particularly brave. Actually, I’m kinda a wimp. But I looked around and noticed that a lot of women keep exactly the same hair style FOREVER. Sometimes it’s because it’s just the one that works. They’ve tried stuff and figured it out. But often, it’s just because they’re scared. Well, don’t be. The wondrous thing about hair is that it’s the only part of your body that you have a lot of that will just grow back, no matter what. I’m thinking about that …I guess skin falls under that category too. But you know what I’m saying. Do not experiment with skin removal. Instead, here are some things you should try with your hair at some point … Keep reading »
It’s not that I have a thing, as it were, for little people. And, God, is that really the politically correct term? Are we serious about this? It’s not that I have some sort of fetish or something. But Peter Dinklage is hot. And I said it long before he was pn “Game of Thrones.”
I said it when I saw “The Station Agent,” back in the day, before college, even, when I went to see the flick with my lame boyfriend, and Peter Dinklage was so much hotter than him. And had so much more gravitas. And so much more charisma. And such a look of gentle weariness in his noble, manly eyes.
So when he showed up again, in “Game of Thrones,” I was willing to watch, despite all the casual rape and beheading and ripping out of throats and other body parts that no one should ever rip out. Keep reading »
It’s spring! The trees are blossoming! All six of them! Or maybe that’s just on my block. The several tufts of grass are violently green. I suddenly want to buy at least two pairs of gladiator sandals. Because suddenly one doesn’t feel like enough. And also, because it’s spring, weight-loss advice is blooming. It’s everywhere. Shed those extra pounds before summer! Be able to fit into those shorts! Get your bikini bod on! Or, you know, catchier slogans.
I am going to the Caribbean in a couple months. My dad won a trip at an auction, and he’s taking the family, significant others included. When I found out, my first thought was “Yay!” and my second thought was, “Shit.” The “shit” related to the fact that I have not put on a bikini in well over a year, and since then, I’ve gained about 15 pounds. Keep reading »
Recently, I ended up naked in front of a full-length mirror. It was an accident. Seriously, it was. I don’t walk around naked that much. Anyway, there I was, naked, in front of this mirror. And for some reason, I took a long moment, just to look. And it was weird. Because it occurred to me that I never do that. Which I guess is actually pretty normal. But the weird part was that I didn’t really know my own naked body. It was vaguely familiar, of course. I mean, I do take showers and stuff. But I almost never pay attention to it, except to give it some unhelpful critique or be surprised by how chubby it’s gotten in certain places. Actually, ever since I gained some weight, I’ve wanted to be naked even less. Especially when there’s no immediate sex involved. Standing in front of the mirror, I had a small epiphany. I should get to know my naked body. I should get good at being naked. Actually, everyone should. If I was a dictator, I’d mandate daily naked time. And free healthcare for all! And cake! But mostly naked time. Why? Here are some reasons… Keep reading »
I used to be a cool older sister. I had all sorts of secret older sister knowledge. So when I told my little brother Gabe that I was a witch and I could fly, he believed me. That was pretty awesome.
I was seven, and he was four.
“If you don’t unload my section of the dishwasher, I’ll put a spell on you!” I said.
He got nervous.
I hated unloading the dishwasher. I still do, actually. Keep reading »
I am a writer. I have been a writer since age eight, when I penned a dramatic tale about a girl who gets asked to the prom by the school bully. He turns out to be really nice, and they end up getting married. It was daring, featured some witty dialogue, and suggested an attraction to bad boys that never played out in real life. It also suggested something else—my classic, boring, old-fashioned interest in getting married and living happily ever after, in that order. Keep reading »