I did not want to be in college and be a mom. And I’m not talking about having a baby, I’m talking about dating one.
Tom and I were just barely in our 20s and our wants were few. Most of the time, just being together was enough. So when he told me that he going to quit working as a NYC bike messenger during in his fifth year of college, I just thought that meant there would be more “us” time. Keep reading »
Guest columnists and contributors are generously sharing their talents and insights while I’m taking some time to care for my new baby. Today’s letter is answered by freelance writer, Rachel East, AKA ReginaRey.
About six months ago, the man I thought I was going to marry left me unceremoniously for another woman. During the aftermath – the moving out and settling of affairs — he acted cruelly and horribly, cementing the split and making damn sure I didn’t come back. I spent much of the next few months depressed, having constant nightmares about him, unable to get out of bed and constantly self-medicating, because the reality of my situation was too much to face. I work freelance, and have been accepting just enough work to scrape by, wishing the end of every gig to come so I could get back into bed. Keep reading »
It’s fun to talk about women who get plastic surgery. They’re kind of sad. A little desperate. They’re trying too hard. They’re spending too much money on what God should have given them. Everyone is keeping track of which movie star recently got her lips puffed up or her boobs plumped or her nose whittled down to practically nothing. I flick through a slideshow of before/after shots of famous women, shaking my head. I think, But she looked fine before!
Sometimes, when my friends make comments about someone who “obviously got some work done,” I nod along automatically.
I often forget that I am one of them. I am one of those women who was insecure enough to let someone cut them open for the sake of beauty. Keep reading »
The New York Post is reporting that whenever Derek Jeter has a one-night stand, he keeps a car on call, ready to take the woman home, and stocks it with “a basket of signed memorabilia” to … remember him by?
I think I’d be horrified if I slept with someone and they sent me home with a basket of, like, signed baseball cards and a headshot. But, I mean, it depends on the giftbag, right?
If I had a one-night stand, and didn’t feel any particular attachment to the guy or have any interest in seeing him again, and he loaded me up with stuff for the ride home, well, I don’t know, I might be okay with that. For example, the perfect one-night stand giftbag would include… Keep reading »
Some people will never know what it’s like to be truly lost. They will feel lost metaphorically, of course, because everyone feels aimless and unsure at some point in their lives, but in the physical sense, they will always know — at least vaguely — where they are. They will be able to say, “I am in Portugal,” or “That way is north.”
And then there are people like me. I was born without an internal compass. The moment I leave my doorstep is the moment I’m not sure where I’m going or how to get home.
Keep reading »
Yes, your wedding was adorable. Look at your adorable mason jar center pieces! And your adorable balloons and/or adorable take on adorable flower alternatives! And your adorable color palette! And your adorable adaptation of an adorable song!
Oh look, an adorable reference to an adorable pop culture institution, adorably personalized to suit your adorable relationship with an adorable person. Look how you adorably side-stepped tradition with an adorable and unique adorable thing that looks like all the other unique adorable things I have been looking at non-stop for months on adorable wedding blogs and ugh.
I am so tired of adorable shit. Adorable shit is making me hate my own adorable shit, and if I had to pick some favorite adorable shit, it would be my own. Keep reading »