Since 1998, I’ve filled two passports, trundled through innumerable airports and navigated the border crossings of 28 countries — almost always by myself. Occasionally I’ve been accompanied by a boyfriend, sometimes by a brave friend I’ve convinced to join me, but most of the time I wandered out into the throng of waiting touts alone.
Now, when you’re a young woman and you tell people you’re going to travel, the first question will be: “Who are you going with?” Keep reading »
Michele Bachmann: People do find out [in my book] that I did not get asked to my senior prom.
Sean Hannity: Well, neither did I. And nobody would go with me.
Michele Bachmann: Well, in my time, girls didn’t ask boys to prom. If you didn’t get asked, you didn’t go.
Sean Hannity: Yeah, well let me tell you, I have a 13-year-old son. Those days have changed big time.
Michele Bachmann: And our girls are not allowed to do that in our house. They have to wait for the boy to call.
Wilma Flintstone Rep. Michele Bachmann explains on “Hannity” that her daughters have to sit around and wait for a boy to call. I don’t even think kids these days use the telephone to ask each other out on dates, but that’s besides the point. What kind of message is Bachmann sending to her daughters? Eh, probably the same message she sent when she got up and served all the men water at a GOP debate.
In slightly-more-entertaining news, nobody wanted to go with Sean Hannity to prom. Oh, whyever not, ladies? [Jezebel via Think Progress] Keep reading »
Over the summer, I had a first date with an attractive, smart guy who emailed me over an online dating site. C— was Harvard-educated, a lawyer, and a dead ringer for the actor Terrance Howard (i.e. super hot). We had a lovely conversation and was a total gentleman until the end of the date: he paid for our drinks, walked me to the train, and kissed me on the lips before telling me he wanted to see me again soon.
I texted him the next day to say “thank you for drinks!” I never heard back. Not a single peep. I got “ghosted.”
Well, I never heard back for three months, anyway. One afternoon, I randomly received this text message from C—:
Hey Jess, it’s C—. I don’t have a great excuse for why I fell off the planet. I got really busy and things got messy with an ex that I didn’t want to be bothered with while pursuing something new. If you are still interested, I’d like to see you. Keep reading »
Guest columnists and contributors are generously sharing their talents and insights while Wendy is taking some time to care for my new baby. Today’s letter is answered by prolific Dear Wendy commenter and social media consultant, Sarah Huffman.
My year-long relationship recently went long distance. I had gotten into several master’s programs — a few decent ones near him and an amazing one far away — and because of future career potential and pressure from everyone (including him) I chose the more prestigious, far-away program. The problem is that I am completely miserable. I am so in love with my boyfriend and I miss him so much, I don’t know what to do with myself. My school is a lot of work, which adds to the stress level. My fellow classmates go out and have fun – I’d rather get more work done so that I can have a few days to visit the boyfriend. Keep reading »
Mary and I were sitting on her couch, laughing. “But wait, no seriously, is pooping a feminist issue? Why aren’t we talking about this?” I asked.
It was funny, if only because there was some truth in the (often female) phenomenon of “holding it in.” There’s this prevalent idea that girls don’t poop.
“Ugh. I hate that part of dating,” Mary said. “ I can remember holding it in all weekend, waiting until we got to a restaurant or somewhere!”
I knew this move all too well. I wondered, Is this every woman’s secret? Keep reading »