Profile for Rainbow Kirby

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My Two Cents: I Resolve To Stop Renting!

Before the horns blew and the ball dropped, my friends went around the table sharing their resolutions for the New Year. More sex. Lose weight. Save money. Be a better person. Stop dating deadbeats.

One of those was mine. The other I shared with my boyfriend the next morning. “2011 is going to be a good year for us,” he kept repeating in that positive tone people mysteriously possess on January 1 of every year. “What do you want to accomplish?”

“I want to own something,” I told him. That simple. No word sounds sexier to me than equity. Keep reading »

Girl Talk: How A Happy Light Saved Me From SAD

After Daylight Saving Time ended in November, the old adage “spring ahead, fall behind” began to ring true. I not only fell behind in projects, socializing, and errands, all I wanted to do was fall asleep. Yoga after work? No energy. Dinner and drinks? No thanks; I’d rather go snooze on my couch. One afternoon, I was sitting at my desk at The Frisky office when I looked out the window and it was pitch black – at 5 p.m. Even though it was so early, I felt anxious, like it was time to go home; I could no longer be productive. The bitter cold outside only made me want to hibernate more. Keep reading »

Poll: How Much Are You In The Hole From The Holidays?

How Much Are You In The Hole From The Holidays?

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Poll: How Much Do You Contribute To Your Rent/Mortgage?

How Much Do You Contribute To Your Rent/Mortgage?

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Girl Talk: Everyone’s Knocked Up – But Me!

It was like the post-WWII baby boom at my publishing company in Manhattan. The ladies’ room was full of women patting their stomachs, complaining about morning sickness that lasted all day and chugging Cheerios to battle nausea. I had never seen anything like it at any place I’ve ever worked. At my last job, many of the women were older and had never been married, and when I worked in sports, somehow a job was eliminated once a woman uttered, “I’m expecting.” Keep reading »

Girl Talk: I Called The Cops On The Roommate From Hell

“I almost woke you up in the middle of the night and asked you to take me to the emergency room. I thought I was dying,” she said with a wicked smile. “I swallowed more than 60 pills.”

Jerking her head as she talked, my roommate attempted to hide the gouges on her nose and cheeks. She had been picking apart her 24-year-old face for weeks.

I listened to her ramble on about how much money she’d spent on Adderall and cocaine. It was thousands. She seemed to take pleasure in her confession, lifting her sweater proudly, “Look how skinny I am.”

Finally able to speak, I urged, “You need help.”

“No, I’m good now. I was just in a funk.” Keep reading »

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