The Mass Transit Adventures of an Occasional (but not today) Role Model
So it’s 7:30am and I’m on the subway headed downtown to meet PIC at his office. I’ve gotten up early to go to the gym because…
How to Piss off a Woman in 5 Easy Steps: The Contractor(s) from Hell
This past weekend I went to the Philadelphia Home Show. Why? Well, I’m a homeowner now. I’m renovating my house. And there’s nothing I enjoy more…
Writing Wednesday: How to Ask for Help
Here is how it goes down. This time is was not Jeffrey Euginides but rather Liane Moriarty, an Australian NY Times-bestselling author and in this particular…
El Salvador: There are No Bathrooms in the Mangroves
El Salvador, 2015: It’s our first day out of San Salvador and between the drive down to the coast, the boat ride through the mangrove forest…
Writing Wednesday: To Blog Anonymously or Under Your Real Name?
Last week, I received an email from one of my “longtime readers.” I know this not because I have some sort of sophisticated tracking device set…
36 Ways to Deal with Unwanted Pubic Hair
Last week, for the benefit of those of you with whom I am not Facebook Friends, I posted the following: Okay ladies… bikini waxing? How do…
We’re Just Here to See the Wine and Drink the Flowers
Sometimes I have normal weeks, by which I mean I can churn out several reasonably coherent (and typo-free) blog posts in addition to everything else I’m…
Break Up 101: How to Dump (or Get Dumped) with Dignity
Nothing from nothing but if you’re dating a woman who writes a blog about… well… dating, you probably shouldn’t send her twenty two text messages when…
Parenting? I Know ALL About It!
I’ve never been married (or given birth) but from what I understand, you’re not supposed to badmouth your spouse in front of your kids. For this…
Girls Rule, Boys Drool (but evidently have rules of their own?)
I’ve always been a rule follower. The most daring moment of my high school career was the time I excused myself from class to use the…
The Next Installment of the Gentlemen’s Guide: Weekend Wooing
Back in junior high, my BFF and I decided to write a manual for boys—boys who were interested in dating us. We were fed up with…
Help! I’m Dating Myself…
He wants to write to me. Like a proper, hand-written letter— envelope and all. Evidently I wasn’t the only one feeling completely mashed up inside after…
Fieldwork in Stilettos 