Recently, Ami and I were talking and she asked if I could help her get her funny back. If you read this site, you know that Ami is usually a very funny person, so her question came as a bit of a shock.
“You lost your funny?” I said. “When? How? Where?”
“Well, I came back from Paris, and then my boyfriend and I broke up, and then it was my birthday and the holidays, and then I started doing a lot of hot yoga … there’s this guy who’s always in my class and he smells really bad, and once his shorts came down–”
“That’s funny!” I interrupted.
“No,” Ami said, “because I saw he had completely shaved his pubic region. And then it wasn’t funny anymore, just gross. Now I’m not funny. I think I have anhedonia.” Keep reading »
Something my mom and I share in common: we hate running into people in public. We’re both fairly sociable people with lots of friends and acquaintances,but dread being caught unaware at the grocery store or the nail salon — even by someone we might genuinely want to see. But especially by someone we don’t want to see.
As a child, walking through the aisles of Costco on a Sunday afternoon, my mom would squeeze my arm and say, “It’s so-and-so, put your head down.” Often my dad, who loves running into people, would bust our cover and wave to the person in question. “Hey look! It’s so-and-so!” Under her breath, I would hear my mom utter, “Goddammit.”
I can’t say for sure why we’re like this. Perhaps it has to do with our distaste for small talk. But there are no lengths my mother and I won’t go to to remain unrecognized in public. Keep reading »
Earlier this week, at the Mumford & Sons concert, I was sitting next to a bro who kept trying to cheers my empty fist. The first time, during “Little Lion Man,” I gave him a polite smile and smashed my fist against his cup of Coors Light. The third time he tried, I started to get testy. The bro may have gotten under my skin, but he sparked an important existential realization: not much has changed since my first Lollapalooza in 1992. Well, there were no cellphones back then, and I would never wear a red bra under a pair of conductor overalls with no T-shirt nowadays, but other than that, the people are pretty much the same. After nearly three decades of concert going, I think I’ve finally nailed down all the types. Keep reading »
I refuse to be one of those people spewing bitterness about Valentine’s Day. As a single person, no, it’s not my favorite holiday. But it wasn’t my favorite holiday when I was coupled either. Aside from the pricey prix fixe dinner menus, the reason being, Valentine’s Day is limiting. This concept of “romantic love,” that it’s the only kind of love that is transcendent or important, is just dumb. It sets you up for failure. If you don’t have it, does that mean you’re unloved or unlovable? Um, NO! Really, we all have access to many different forms of love, and if we’re wise, we are pursuing all of them and not just putting all of our love eggs in one basket. It’s easy to forget that. So, I’ve taken a few moments to reflect upon some really simple ways to invite more love in this Valentine’s Day that have nothing to do with romantic love. Keep reading »
Breaking news: men don’t want to have sex all the time. I know. Total shocker. Seriously, the expectation that anyone will want to have sex all the time is ridiculous. Sometimes your privates need to rest, dammit, or you’re just not in the mood. The other day, the Daily Mail published the results of poll about why men avoid sex. The survey was about erectile dysfunction, which we’re not going to talk about today. Instead, we’ll focus on some other popular excuses men came up with to get out of doing it. Assuming all the equipment was working properly and stuff, the most commonly cited get-out-of-sex excuses included the pets are watching, I’m too busy playing video games, and I’m too full. I’ve heard these all before. Even the pets excuse, which I thought was weird. Substitute “playing video games” for “listening to NPR” or “practicing guitar.” Naturally, I had to conduct an informal poll myself. Here are some of our favorite excuses. Please share yours in the comments. Keep reading »
I’ve been going to the same vagina waxer for almost six years now. When you tell people that you wax down there, often their first question is: Isn’t that awkward to have someone all up in your vagina like that? The answer is no. Good waxers make you feel like your vagina is disinteresting. Or mundane. And I mean that in the best possible way. Good waxers look at your vagina the way a grocery store cashier looks at a carton of milk; only enough to make sure they’ve scanned it properly at check out. Vaginas are just kind of a non-issue to them. I know there is some debate as to whether or not it’s appropriate to talk to one’s waxer while she is working on the vagina. I say yes. After six years of waxing my muff once a month, I pretty much consider my waxer, almost, kind of, a friend. We’re not friends, but she knows what’s going on in my life and I know what’s going on in hers. I’ve been with her through two pregnancies and she’s been with me through four times as many breakups. All that being said, there have been a few really uncomfortable moments we’ve shared over the years. Keep reading »