This month, the world went crazy. I don’t know if you noticed it where you live, but in my corner of the world—New York City—gay bashing and hate crime violence seemed to skyrocket. A few weeks ago, I was working at my newspaper job in the Bronx when we got a call about a body floating in the Harlem River. I didn’t know it then, but that body was a Rutgers University student who leaped to his death off the George Washington bridge after his classmate broadcast his gay hookup on the internet. Then, two men were arrested for attacking a gay man in the bathroom of the Stonewall Inn, one of my favorite gay bars and the birthplace of the gay rights movement. Keep reading »
While the bell curve is used to organize data for things that have already happened (that chemistry test that most of the class got a “D” on), the Poisson curve, originally developed to measure the likelihood of getting kicked to death by a horse during battle, predicts things that we either fear or hope happens, like, for example, finding love. Writer Michael Kaplan compares the likelihood of certain horse death to finding true love in one’s life in an article in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette. Statistically? The chances are very, very rare. Keep reading »
My mom always said that there are three kinds of friends in this world: friends for a reason, friends for a season or friends for life. (My mom loves rhyming advice.)
Lately, in the age of 500-plus Facebook friends, it’s a question everyone seems to be asking: Is real friendship dying? Which relationships really matter? And is it better to have one BFF — or an army of acquaintances? Read more … Keep reading »
I am 25 years old with lots of girlfriends and a sizable collection of purses. Reunions with old pals usually involve squeals or hefty grins and, yes, cute bunnies make me go “aww.” For some girls, these moments of elated feminine energy are non-stop, but I can only take small doses.
A former tomboy, at 13 I was jumping in mud puddles (still am), and at 18, I was wearing torn jeans with paint spots. It wasn’t until I was 21 that I learned how to walk in high heels. Keep reading »