I’ve wondered for a long time if maybe I have higher levels of testosterone than other women, because there’s always been a lot about me that is just distinctly un-feminine (in the sort of standard way of looking at masculinity and femininity). I don’t want to state any facts about testosterone because I am not an endocrinologist and I don’t want to engage in pseudo-science, but suffice it to say that when I hear the experiences of transmen who have undergone hormone therapy I’ve related to the differences they observe. And, in fact, I’ve always had an easier time relating to and making friends with men. Keep reading »
About once a week, I “work from home,” which really means that I work from a coffee shop near my apartment. It’s a pleasantly balanced crowd — the other young professionals tapping on their laptops give it an “office away from the office” feel, but the parents with strollers and groups gathered around tables remind me I’m in a public space. I get my best work done with a nondescript hum in the background, hence why I rarely work from my actual home in my pajamas. It’s easy — no, ideal — for me to block out low volumes of noise in order to concentrate on my work. In fact, I actually listen to a coffee shop sounds “white noise” audio on loop when I’m at The Frisky’s office.
So it was with great annoyance that last week I had the misfortune to sit next to a woman at my coffee shop WHO TALKED REALLY LOUD LIKE THIS BECAUSE SHE HAD NO SELF-AWARENESS ABOUT THE SOUND OF HER VOICE. Keep reading »
When women brag on Facebook about having the “best hubby in the world,” I want to buy advance tickets and popcorn to their inevitable divorce. If you really and truly love your husband and you’re actually that happy, why do you need to show off? Is Facebook your own personal delusion billboard?
Like when did husbanding (as opposed to husbandry, something else entirely) become a competition in which your husband is suddenly The Greatest Of All Husbands simply because he exchanged paper money for shiny baubles or, I don’t know, fixed the shower head? And why do you need to send out a massive brag to your “friends”? If it’s such a big deal, can’t you just tell them over the phone or in person? Keep reading »
Guys, close your eyes and imagine this. You’re just trying to go about your life and do your thing, but there’s this chick who keeps tapping you on the shoulder to tell you really dumb, childish things. She’ll say stuff like, “Hey, your shorts are stupid, and you look like shit in them.” When you tell her she’s being an asshole, she claims you’re uptight and replies: “You just need to get laid!”
What the hell sense does that make, right? The idea is that somehow you having sex will make you feel less angry about her being objectively rude.
This is a real thing that happened to me recently. A guy made a blanket statement on social media that all women look like shit in high-waisted shorts and that we should all stop wearing them. I pointed out that A) there’s a long history of men telling women what to wear that’s been detrimental toward our relationships with our bodies, and that’s sexist and uncool, B) we couldn’t possibly please everyone with what we wear because everyone’s got different tastes, so most people just wear what they want because they like it, and C) it’s rude to tell people they look like shit, especially when they didn’t ask for your opinion. The response I got was two-fold: “You’re a cunt,” and “You obviously need to get laid.” Keep reading »
I write this to you in the heat of the moment, still disgusted at what I just witnessed in the company ladies room. IT WAS NOT PRETTY. In fact, after slurping down several tall glasses of Long Island Iced Teas during a barbecue yesterday, I was forced to stop at a seedy, highway rest stop McDonald’s to pee, and I’m sad to report that their women’s restroom was cleaner than the one in my office building. But this isn’t just happening in my building. Gag-worthy workplace bathrooms— particularly ladies’ rooms— have become an epidemic. We can all relate. Keep reading »
A few months ago, I was having a rough time with my son. This is not unusual, as he is going through a particularly ornery stage and I am stubborn as a mule who is really good at yelling but not much else in the discipline realm. I ended up calling my parents for backup, and put them on the phone with my son as I stood in the bathroom listening to the conversation. Most of it was great. My dad was telling my son that he needs to listen to me because I’m the Mom and I have his best interests at heart and all that. But then! Then he told my son that he needed to change his behavior because he is “the man of the house,” and I “need” him to take care of me and our home. And that’s when I almost punched a hole through the wall. Keep reading »
I’m more than sure Kirstie Allsopp is going to take a beating from the Internet in the last few days over encouraging young women to forego higher education for a job, an apartment, a boyfriend, and a baby. She argues that career doesn’t have a time limit, while (for most people) child-bearing does.
I’m not going to call her anti-feminist, or a bad feminist, or whatever. She’s a person with opinions she’s entitled to — a few of which I agree with, notably that marriage is a big old WHATEVS. I just think there are some serious logical flaws to her argument. Keep reading »
“Hey.” “Hey you.” “What’s up?” “Yo.” “Heyyyy.”
These are the types of messages I’ve been getting from former flings and lovers about every six months or so. And I’m fucking sick and tired of it. Keep reading »