I’ve learned a lot over the course of writing this column. Readers don’t care for wedding critiques. Also, if you want to generate a ton of comments, write an impassioned polemic against open-toed sandal-boots and vodka tonics. Interweb columns sure are strange!
My editor, when not worshiping Cthulu or excising all of my best jokes, likes to remind me to write honestly. And in trying to do so, I’ve started to come to some startling conclusions about myself.
Conclusions like, I think I’ve realized that I’m in love …
… with being alone. Read more … Keep reading »
Will a doctor be straight with me — does pulling out work?
First, let’s be clear about what you’re trying to prevent here. If you’re looking to prevent sexually transmitted infections (STI), then stick to a condom (and keep it on the whole time), because pulling out is NOT going to provide protection against infection. If you’re just looking to prevent pregnancy, then you’ll be happy to know that withdrawal method (pulling out) is a potentially viable alternative if other contraceptives don’t seem to be ideal for you. Read more … Keep reading »
Yesterday I received the same message via email, text, tweet and wall post no fewer than a dozen times:
“I’m sure you’ve already seen this, but …”
The “this” was Robin Marantz Henig’s hefty New York Times article about the state of today’s 20-somethings — an extensive assessment of the way my generation is choosing to spend our transition into adulthood, what our choices mean, and if they’re good or bad. Read more … Keep reading »
At one point in her life — when she owned a two-bedroom condo, two cars, and enough wedding china to serve two dozen people gazpacho at the same time — Tammy Strobel, 31, asked herself if all that “stuff” actually made her and her husband, Logan, happy.
Then, she gave it all away. Read more … Keep reading »
Lisa Linehan, 35, is getting married on February 15, 2011.
Most of the wedding’s details are already set — she’s picked out the venue, chosen a DJ, and narrowed her gown possibilities to four lucky finalists. There’s just one thing missing: the husband-to-be.
Lisa, a singer-songwriter, has neither a fiance nor a long-term boyfriend. She intends to find her soul mate through what she’s calling “Project Husband,” a venture sponsored by Dallas’s local CW affiliate. She’s even written a song about it — “I Want to Get Married.” Read more … Keep reading »
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about whale semen, it’s that if you Tweet about it, you get … crickets.
“HAHA, ASSIGNED TO CONDITION MY HAIR WITH WHALE SEMEN!” I wrote to my unwitting public (of, like, 140 followers).
Nothing. No one wants to hear about that. But they should! Because whale sperm is actually a truly excellent hair conditioner, and I learned this the very, very hard way (my, there are so many semen jokes) when I purchased a tub of whale sperm this week, for the low, low price of $6.99, then slathered it all over my own head — and a good-natured neighbor’s. Read more … Keep reading »
Recently there was the dude dressed in a giant broccoli costume who got down on one knee at the minor league baseball game. (Come on, if you’re going to propose on the Jumbotron, at least choose the majors.)
Then there was Mike from Austin, whose proposal fail took place on live TV. Or a guy who got slapped upside the head — before she ran away — after he popped the question at a hockey game.
You get the point. Read more … Keep reading »
Have we met?
If you find me charming, funny and confident, then the answer is no. Although, we might have emailed. Why? Because in terms of personality, I’m Don Draper … electronically. In the flesh? Not so much.
Welcome to my personal hell.
Here’s the deal: When I email a gal, I’m imbued with all these crazy powers. Confidence! Wit! Charm! On my Powerbook or my iPhone, I’m George Clooney at a cocktail party. On a date, without my assorted Apple products, I become … the Mac guy.
It’s my own personal cross to bear. Read more … Keep reading »
I called it “Got MIL?” and in hindsight, posting it was not my most prudent move.
It was an essay that discussed, at some discomfiting length, my relationship with my mother-in-law. It was not an essay that was particularly flattering to my mother-in-law, because she was — is — not a particularly easy mother-in-law.
But — as I later told my brothers- and sister-in-law (who, yes, found the post; this is how this story ends) — I believed that it was my story to tell. It was about my experience with her, my responses to the things that she said to me, my discomfort in struggling to accommodate her while she visited, for the first time, her newborn grandson.
At the time, I was struggling with post-partum depression. I could barely cope. When faced with that weekend — with trying to recover from that weekend — I turned to my favored form of therapy: spilling my guts to the Internet.
The essay began like this: Read more … Keep reading »
The two most common questions I hear as a single girl are as follows:
1) “Are you dating anyone?” and
2) (After I answer “no”) “WHY not?”
I’ll admit, the question normally comes from family members, but I get asked from more non-blood relations than I care to admit. Read more … Keep reading »