One Month Later
It’s been one month. One month—with enough snow to make anybody suicidal— and somehow I’m still waking up every morning, putting one foot in front of…
It’s been one month. One month—with enough snow to make anybody suicidal— and somehow I’m still waking up every morning, putting one foot in front of…
I had forgotten how much work goes into dating. And it’s all related to hair: combing, trimming, scrunching, tweezing, plucking and so on and so forth. …
I’m three days into my latest ethnographic experiment: three months on match.com. So far, I’ve received 24 “winks,” 19 emails and one invitation to go salsa…