The other day, I found myself engaging in conversation with a stranger at the grocery store about weight.
“God,” the woman said, pausing near me in the aisle as I considered a package of cookies. “I wish.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I’m trying to decide if it’s worth it.”
“Go for it,” she said, grinning. “You can always hit the gym after.”
She went on her way. I put the cookies back. I thought about it. I picked them up again and put them in my basket. What the hell? I never go to the gym. I’m terrible at treadmills and I’m lazy. Or maybe I’m terrible at treadmills because I’m lazy. It’s a chicken/egg kinda thing. Keep reading »
The holidays suck extra hard when you’re trying to cope with the loss of a family member, even if you’re not a Grinch by nature. However you define your family, once someone that was an integral part of your warm and fuzzy celebrations is missing, winter brings a feeling of doom and gloom that all the vitamin D in the world can’t fix. Keep reading »
Happy first night of Hanukkah, fellow members of Tribe! On that note, I’d like to take a few minutes to talk about Christmas. Christmas dinner specifically. Whether it was due to interfaith dating or a lack of funds to travel home for the holidays, I’ve found myself at a number of Christmas celebrations. The nice thing about Hanukkah is that it’s not the most serious of Jewish holidays and there’s eight nights of it. So you can multitask — light your menorah at sundown and scarf down a few latkes one night, head over to Christmas dinner another. Should you be invited for Christmas, you must be prepared, especially if you are the only Jew in attendance . After the jump, some tips for the Jew at Christmas dinner. Keep reading »
I was a virgin until a month before my 21st birthday. I was on my second date with a guy named Craig, a 20-something blond surfer type who got my number after I made him a chai tea to go at the coffee shop in his neighborhood where I worked. I was lying on his bed and the Best of Willie Nelson was playing on his CD player. He had a tapestry hanging on the ceiling and there was a poster for the critically un-acclaimed jam band, The String Cheese Incident, on the wall. I felt him enter me and it hurt like hell, but I was flying high on the notion that I had finally conquered two fears — the fear of having sex and the fear that I never would. Afterwards, I was a little embarrassed by the spotting of blood on his sheets — should I offer to wash them? — but I still couldn’t contain my excitement. Keep reading »
New Year’s Eve is completely overwrought with expectation, isn’t it? Will your party be hip-hop-video-caliber awesome? Who are you going to kiss? And most importantly, are you wearing enough sequins?
It’s enough to make a girl throw up her hands and stay in watching re-runs of “Breaking Bad.”
Never fear, friend. We’ve got seven ideas for totally different ways to ring in 2012. Keep reading »
I think I had a g-spot orgasm. Maybe. I’m not really sure. Even as I thought I might be having one, I questioned its existence.
Somewhere along the way I got the message that this was how I should be getting off. Whether it was part of the idea that penetration is the ultimate sex act or a side effect of sex positive feminism or one of Cosmo’s unrealistic sex tips — the notion that my body should be achieving g-spot orgasm on the regular was embedded in my brain. Keep reading »