20-Nothings

I have a 22-year-old friend who is walking across America

2012-01-26T10:23:00.007-05:00

Last week I had lunch with a 22-year-old boy named Ebram who is walking across America.

Yes, literally walking. Yes, literally America.

I didn't know that's what he was up to when my sister Sara connected us over e-mail. He was just a classmate of hers at Boston College (my own Alma mater) who wanted some advice on freelance writing. He did mention something about being in California on account of the beginning of a journey, but I assumed West Coast road trip, not full country foot trip.

When we set the plans, I asked if he had a car to get around, and he said he'd be getting around mostly by foot. "That's going to be tough in L.A." I told him, not knowing that L.A.'s got nothing on Colorado...in February.

Things started to become clearer when Ebram asked if the cafe I'd chosen had enough room for the push cart he uses to get from one place to another. I envisioned one of those tall, rectangular granny grocery shopping carts common to the New York city set. But Ebram's push cart is nothing something a granny would use, and it's not something that would fit in New York City. It's cart is the kind you use to, say, walk across America.

He explained his plan to me with a look that acknowledged how crazy it sounds. "But people do it all the time," he told me, "and there's a whole network of people out there to use as a resource."

I'll be honest. I thought he was crazy. I thought, you poor, sweet, idealistic Millennial biding your post-grad time with a, frankly, dangerous adventure. You're like that SNL sketch they ran two weeks ago - "You Can Do ANYTHING!" - that made fun of 20-something lost souls who believe that, so long as it fulfills them, they can absolutely make a life out of Irish step dancing while doing Chinese calligraphy.

Then my 22-year-old self slapped my 28-year-old self in the face, and I started to look at Ebram through a slightly less cynical lens.

So the kid wants to walk across America. So he's looking for a great, big adventure. So he doesn't know what to do with himself after college, but refuses to sit on his parents' living room couch.

Should we be so surprised given the way kids these days grow up? (yeah, I just said kids these days. It's come to that). Many are sheltered in non-diverse suburban communities. They collect friends on the Internet, not at the bus stop on Hollywood and Vine. They learn through text books and local field trips, not be actually going to nation's landmarks. And, and maybe rightly so, they're not allowed to ride their bikes past the end of the development.

I get why Ebram wants to walk across America. I'm still worried for him, and I'm still not sure he's going to magically know what he wants to do for a living once he gets to the other side (note: my words, not his), but he'll probably know a whole hell of a lot more about who he is, and what he's capable of handling. He'll probably also have a thousand stories from a thousand people who've lived longer than he's lived. And if he does end up following the passion that prompted our meeting - his passion for writing - then he'll no doubt have something way more specific to write about than the contents of this very blog.

"I think what you're trying to do is awesome," I told him as he prepped his push cart to take off on another leg of the great walk, and I meant it.

Why not walk across America instead of taking an entry-level job in finance? At the end of the day you'll learn way more from the walk than you'll ever learn at the bank.

And isn't that what being a 22-year-old should be all about?

You can follow Ebram's journey via his blog - Heybram.com - and Twitter - @ebrammegally. Or you can earn major karma points and host him on his trip. Go to heybram.com/ii to look at his journey map, see if he's passing through your area, and fill out the google form if you're interested in hosting. Somewhere Jack Kerouac just rolled over in his grave...

This is exactly what happens when you go for a mammogram

2012-01-24T07:00:00.001-05:00

Here is the longer version of my story recently published at Thought Catalog. The full version was only suited for smaller corners of the Internet...

I went for my very first mammogram recently because I'm getting close to 30, insurance covers it, and sometimes my left boob is a little hurt-y. I realize that is TMI for many readers of this blog (hi Dad!), but I'm disclosing in the name of safety.

Because this was my very first mammogram, I was understandably nervous about the unknown details of the procedure. For how long, exactly, would I be naked? To what degree, exactly, would they be squeezing and shoving my boob into some freezing cold device? Do I technically have enough boob to be squeezed and shoved into said device?

Here, to help you move more gracefully through your own first mammogram, is exactly what happened at mine:

1. I found a failed parking meter five minutes prior and two blocks away from my appointment!! I took this as a sign from God that I did not have cancer.

2. My doctor's office - and perhaps yours? - is now using an iPad for new patients to enter in their medical history. Despite having an iPhone, it took me 15 minutes to complete my medical history on this device. It is worth noting that I do not technically have any medical history.

3. 10 or so minutes later, a Russian woman came to retrieve me. She called me Jessica, which made me feel older, more official, and like I looked like I had this mammogram thing totally under control.

4. The woman showed me to a dressing room and handed me a pink robe. She directed me to leave my bottoms on, make sure the robe opened to the front, and go sit the pre-procedure waiting room when I was done. Then she left before I had time to ask her my 145 questions.

5. For the next 8-12 minutes I hid in the mini room debating how, exactly, to tie the robe.
Man oh man that robe... First of all, it was too long to be a tunic but too short to be a cute dress. Also, I had foolishly chosen to wear a knee-high boot that day, throwing off the already disastrous proportions. And finally, none of the placement of any of the eight ties closed the robe in any logical manner. I tied and re-tied that thing ten times before I was content enough to leave the little room, and even then there was a gaping hole around my chest area, of the not sexy-peep-hole variety.

Note: Upon arriving in the special waiting room I discovered that the reason why the robes look like crap is because they're actually the ones that are meant to tie in the back. (some rookie didn't follow directions). Brand new iPads are a lot more affordable if you're stealing gowns from the hospital, aren't they...

6. Another 10 or so minutes went by before another Russian woman came to get me for the procedure. Her name was Oksana, and she actually did look like what Oksana Baiul might look like 17 years and 35 pounds after the '94 Olympics. As such, I believe it was her.

7. Oksana brought me to a room with curiously good lighting and instructed me to lay on my side. She then squirted a gel fluid onto my boob (which was blessedly warm) and proceeded to rub my boob using one of those x-ray sticks they use to tell pregnant women if they're having a boy or a girl. I did not laugh even though it tickled like hell. I remain very proud of this fact.

Now heeere's where things got tricky.

Oksana lingered around several areas of the boob and took what I believe were photos based on a camera-like clicking sound. I had a clear view of the monitor showing the picture of whatever results from the x-ray wand, but I was too afraid to look, so I just looked up at the ceiling the whole time and focused on not giggling.

After an amount of time that I felt was particularly long based on absolutely no prior experience with this process, Oksana gave me a towel to wipe off the remaining goop. She then said two things in what I believed to be a very grave voice: "Do you have any family history of breast cancer?" (I do not) and "I need to go review your films with the doctor." And then she left, rather quickly in my opinion.

And so I'm like, okay, I have obviously cancer.

Long procedure? Family history question? Immediate need to review films with the doctor? I watched six out of eight seasons of Grey's. I know imminent bad news when they're keeping it from you. This. Was. Bad.

I spent the next 15 minutes deciding how to tell my parents and outlining the book I would write once I kicked this thing! (it was a collection of humorous essays). I may or may not have also practiced my reaction to the news, out loud. I was going to go with a combination of, "oh god..." and, "are you sure?"

While the above paragraph is written in a comedic tone, there was NOTHING comical about sitting in that room for 10 minutes and waiting to find out that I did NOT, in fact, have cancer. As it turns out the doctor ALWAYS has to review the films and ALWAYS comes in to let you know the results.

Note to Mammography Offices: THAT'S a detail you want to share with your patients before the procedure begins. MISSION CRITICAL info folks.

After the doctor informed me that I did not have cancer based on the x-ray stick results, I asked her if Oksana was going to come back and get me for the actual mammogram part. After all that unexpected nonsense I was itching to shove my boob in the freezing cold machine and get outta there!

That's when I found out that I was only scheduled for a sonogram, not a mammogram. Apparently those are the preferred method of screening these days.

Note: I did end up seeing the mammogram machine inside another examination room, and it didn’t look that scary.

When it is okay/right/appropriate/safe to say "I love you"?

2012-01-19T07:00:00.000-05:00

A week or so ago I got an e-mail from one of my best friends from college. The subject line: "those three words......" Her question: when, if ever? is it too early to say "I love you"??

Here is how I responded:

A. I love that you sent me this e-mail. Means the world.

B. I don't have an official answer, but I have written on the subject before. Here's that post - "Who Should Say I Love You First, and Why?" (Ed Note: yes, I market my own former blog posts to my own best friends).

But regarding the question of "WHEN" someone should say "I love you" here are my thoughts:

"I love you" for people who don't throw that term around, is a very big deal. It means, not only, I like dating you, and I want to sleep with you, and I want to be your girlfriend, but "I feel really strongly about what we have and want to see it continue to a serious way." That's why I think it scares so many people. They don't want to make that big proclamation unless they're SURE the other person feels the same way. So in that way it has nothing to do with the amount of time you've been together and everything to do with how you feel about each other. I knew I loved R after we'd been together for about 2 months. I said "I love you" around month 3.5, but that's mostly because I was all cheesy about it, and wanted to say it at a special moment. But there was no doubt in my mind about how I felt, and pretty little doubt in my mind that he felt the same.

I think THAT'S the most important part of finally saying it. Yes, there's always some doubt in your mind that the other person isn't QUITE there yet, but you mostly know that when you say it, they're going to say, "I love you too" or at least let you know how much it means to them that you're sharing that love. Some people want to have their own "I love you" moment meaning you could say it to him, and he might want to wait to say it to you in his own moment. Totally fine and understandable, in my book.

So can you say it too early? Yes, if you have no indication that the person you're with feels the same. You can "I love you" bomb someone, and that will probably not go over well. But if you're feeling it strongly, and you suspect he feels the same, it's just a very, very special formality.

Update: She said it, he said it back, and according to the exclamation point-heavy e-mail, it was very, very special.

Food for Freak-out: The bad news about getting paid to do what you love?

2012-01-17T07:00:00.000-05:00

I read the follow excerpt from an article called "The Overjustification Effect" that I found on a website called YouAreNotSoSmart.com. I should have known any article from a website by that name would piss me off.

It's a long piece with a lot of history on psychologists' understandings of the way humans are motivated and fulfilled - interesting stuff if you're interested in that stuff. Below is the chunk that I felt most applied to me slash us. In a nutshell - if you get paid to do what you love, you'll begin to associate that work with a monetary reward versus a natural sense of fulfillment, and after awhile, you'll stop enjoying the work.

Here's the excerpt. My thoughts are below.

"Maybe your story goes like this: Work is just a means to an end. You go to work; you get paid. You exchange effort for survival tokens and the occasional steampunk thong from Etsy. Work is not fun. Work pays bills. Fun happens at places that are not work. Your story is in no danger if that’s how you see things. In an environment like that Skinner’s assumptions hold true, you will only work as hard as is necessary to keep getting paychecks. If offered greater rewards, you’ll work harder for them.

Maybe your story goes like this though: I love what I do. It changes lives. It makes the world a better place. I am slowly becoming a master in my field, and I get to choose how I solve problems. My bosses value my efforts, depend on me, and offer praise. In that scenario, rewards just get in the way of your job. As Kahneman’s and Deaton’s study about happiness showed, once you earn enough to be happy day-to-day, motivation must come from something else. As Kahneman and Deaton’s research into happiness and money showed, the only material reward worth seeking once you have a bed, running water and access to microwave popcorn, are tributes, symbols to all of your merit, stuff that demonstrates your effectance to yourself and others. Ranks, degrees, gold stars, trophies, Nobel Prizes and Academy Awards – these are shorthand indicators of your competence. Those rewards amplify your internal motivations; they build your self-esteem and strengthen your feelings of self-efficacy. They show you’ve leveled up in the real world. Achievement unlocked. They help you construct a personal narrative you enjoy telling.

The overjustification effect threatens your fragile narratives, especially if you haven’t figured out what to do with your life. You run the risk of seeing your behavior as motivated by profit instead of interest if you agree to get paid for something you would probably do for free. Conditioning will not only fail, it will pollute you. You run the risk of believing the reward, not your passion, was responsible for your effort, and in the future it will be a challenge to generate enthusiasm. It becomes more and more difficult to look back on your actions and describe them in terms of internal motivations. The thing you love can become drudgery if that which can’t be measured is transmuted into something you can plug into TurboTax."

Every time I read this excerpt I cringe a little. I am a person who falls into the second category - a person who aspires to get paid to do something I love. This theory implies that I will eventually come to dislike what I love because it will be associated with the same employer/employee frustrations of any old job.

Fine. I buy that. I see how that could becoming incredibly taxing. But what's my alternative?

Is the article really saying that I'm better off working a job I do not like and pursuing my passions on the weekend? Americans spend an outrageous percentage of their life at work. Are we just supposed to not enjoy an outrageous percentage of our life so that we don't taint the fulfillment of our passions by bringing them into the pay-for-play structure?

The article doesn't offer any advice on what you're supposed to do if you have a passion that could become your paycheck. Should you ignore it in favor of more mundane work that pays the bills? Should you find work that's close but not cigar in an effort to preserve the work you truly love?

Or should you do what I intend to do - go for it knowing that some frustrations, a different structure of motivation or a slightly tainted passion is better than ignoring the passion all together?

I demand a follow-up piece. I want to know what the frustration level of a 75-year-old who never pursued their passion looks like versus that of one who did, even at the expense of some pure joy around that art. And I really want that research to come back in favor of my life plan...

Are You A Young Adult?

2012-01-12T07:00:00.000-05:00

Answer the following yes or no questions to determine just how much like Mavis Gary - Charlize Theron’s WAY less than real-life ready character in YOUNG ADULT - you are!

1. Do you wake up face down on your bed in last night’s clothes with a massive hangover more than three times each week? Y / N

2. Do you chug diet coke in a futile effort to get over that hangover? Y / N

3. Do you have a dog named after a major fashion brand or reality TV personality? Y / N

4. Do you neglect that dog on a regular basis? Y / N

5. Do you live less than 100 miles from your hometown but treat it like it’s an alien planet? Y / N

6. Are you currently harboring a deep-seeded love for a former flame that is not at all grounded in reality? Y / N

7. Is he happily married? Y / N

8. Do you often find yourself wearing the same shirt several days in a row? Y / N

9. Is it often a shirt that you woke up in one day, several days ago? Y / N

10. Have you ever had a total and complete meltdown, then immediately slept with someone

you genuinely do not like? Y / N

11. Do you believe you have the capacity to learn from your mistakes and become a better person? Y / N

12. Are you drunk right now? Y / N

Scoring

Give yourself one point for every “no” answer, two points for every “yes” answer on questions 1-11, and five points for a “yes” to question 12.

Results

20-27 points – What are you doing with your life? The answer is, all the wrong things. Put that dog up for adoption, cut back on the booze, and get over the man. Bridget Jones’ Diary is an excellent read for this sort of life transformation.

15-20 points - You’re teetering, friend. Things are touch-and-go, but you’re not quite the disaster you could probably be. Congrats for that, but watch yourself if any adorable dogs become available or former flames become engaged.

0-15 points - You’re an actual adult. Kudos! Feel free to rub this in the face of your less-than real-life-ready friends and/or siblings. You may be slightly boring, but at least you’re not anything like a fictionalized character in a dark romantic comedy.

Things I learned about parenting by taking four kids under 12 to Disneyland over Christmas break

2012-01-10T07:00:00.001-05:00

On the day before New Year's Eve, R and I joined his sister, brother-in-law and their four kids under the age of 12 for a day at Disneyland. Here is what we learned about parenting from that experience:

1. Don't take four kids under the age of 12 to Disneyland on the day before New Year's Eve, aka two days before the Rose Bowl, when an extra 45K people descend upon the already insanely crowded Winter Break crowds.

2. iPhones and Blackberries are an essential element of waiting in line without one child killing another. Ensure that yours' are stocked with enough games for a 60 minute Space Mountain wait.

3. When Space Mountain breaks down minute 55 of a 60 minute Space Mountain wait, it's important to remain calm to provide a positive example to the children. This will be among the hardest things you've done in your life because you JUST WAITED 55 MINUTES FOR ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!! And you didn't get to play any iPhone or Blackberry games.

4. A snack-filled child is a happy child. Buy them snacks whenever they are requested, immediately following the request.

5. It is important to have at least one child of stroller-riding age so that you can use the stroller as a moving storage locker for things like extra clothes, extra snacks, and balloon animals.

6. It is also important to have at least one child of stroller-riding age so that you, the parent, can take a break from waiting on 55 minute lines every once in awhile. Someone needs to stay with the baby...

7. Four kids is A LOT OF KIDS, jam-packed theme park or not. But sure to think about that before having four whole kids.

8. Be prepared to spend your day with your financial blinders ON. From the moment you pull up to the parking attendant, to the moment you leave you will be hemorrhaging money. Try not to think about it.

9. No child's opinion on "what to do next" should be taken into account after 9:00 pm. Between 9:20 and 9:40 their bodies will crumble in a pile of overwhelmed exhaustion. Nod and smile kindly when they say they want to stay in the park until midnight. They will never in a million years make it past 10pm.

10. Despite the long lines, the mini melt-downs, the ride malfunctions and the extreme expense, there is NO greater feeling than seeing the ear-to-ear smile on a child's face when they experience the magic of Disney. That line contain absolutely zero sarcasm, and yes, I believe Disney is magical.

Then again, R and I were with four incredible kids and two fantastic parents, who were no doubt responsible for getting us all through the day in one, happy piece.

Stay tuned for the follow-up to this piece: Things I learned about life by taking my boyfriend's parents to Disneyland over Spring Break, coming this March!

This explains why people are guarded (well...some people...specifically this person)

2012-01-05T07:00:00.003-05:00

R and I were having a conversation on the hike down from Runyon Canyon about the way I used to approach dating prior to our meeting. R likes to talk about this because it's a confidence-boosting reminder that the way I dated other people prior to meeting him was bad/wrong/ridiculous.

This specific conversation was about the psychology behind the actions of a "guarded girl." R was saying that a girl with a tough exterior can be difficult to date because a lazy guy assumes she should be treated as tough as she's acting and a sensitive guy assumes she's not into him (that's a paraphrase. He wasn't so general). I was saying that a guarded girl is guarded for a very specific reason, at least I know I was.

I'm using the term "guarded girl" here to describe how I used to feel and behave in previous dating situation, not to stereotype a entire group of female or male daters. Guarded means lots of different things to lots of different people, and it's rooted in even more different feelings. Yes, that is a giant disclaimer.

This type of "guarded" R and I were discussing - aka my former type - exhibits as a girl with a tough exterior - she's edgy, she dishes it out and she can take it right back, she isn't overly emotional. She doesn't need attention. She doesn't need affection. She doesn't need anything.

But what may seem like a personality type or act is actually more like a defense mechanism used to protect against getting hurt. The best way to explain it is to explain how the whole guarded game works using the example of giving and receiving affection in a new relationship - a real trouble zone for any guarded person. This is the example I provided R that made him look at my as if I was a foreigner and/or alien.

In this case "I" am a guarded girl/person and "you" is a guy I'm newly dating. Here goes:

If I open up and ask you to be more affectionate - small version: outwardly flirt with you more to illicit affection from you, big version: tell you I'd like if you were more affectionate toward me - I am off-setting the natural balance of things in the relationship. "Natural" would be you offering me affection because you want to offer it. Unnatural or forced is me having to illicit that affection. So by acting in a way that seems as though I don't need the attention or affection (aka being guarded), I'm testing whether or not you're inclined to be affectionate toward me naturally. In this way I can determine how much you like me (in my mind).

If this seems sick and twisted, it's because it is. Try to focus on the fact that I got over this, as most people do.

Back to guarded girl - never to be a popular Disney kids super hero.

In a nutshell - I say I need something, you give it to me because I said I needed it, not because you necessarily wanted to or would naturally have done so. This is why many a fight between this kind of girl and a guy attempting to date her goes: Guy, "well how was I supposed to know that's what you wanted?" Girl, "I shouldn't have to tell you to be more affectionate! You either are or you aren't!"

Both people are right, and yet both people are also sort of wrong. Yes, people are naturally vulnerable to a certain degree, but people can adapt for the ones' they love if they know what those people need.

Is this making sense? This notion that the reason a girl who might otherwise be an emotionally available softee wears an iron-clad dating vest is because she's testing the guy's own emotional availability? And, more importantly, that how he behaves without her prodding is a sign of how he really is and really feels?

There is logic to it, and that's not just my former self talking. Unfortunately the reality is that relationships - even early ones - are about a give and take. You MUST be willing to stick your neck out there and be clear about the kind of dynamic you're looking for in a relationship, even if it means scaring a guy away - actually, exactly BECAUSE it can mean scaring a guy away, the wrong guy.

These days I don't hold back, emotionally speaking. Mostly that's because I'm with someone who made it clear how he felt, and didn't hold back himself. But the other reason is that all the guarded game play got exhausting after awhile. Being a version of yourself fashioned to determine the boyfriend-ability of the guy you're dating just takes way too much effort after awhile.

Resolving, 2012 edition

2012-01-03T13:38:00.003-05:00

Hello and Happy New Year after the longest blogging break I've taken to date. It felt good to take a breather from the regular writing, but it always feels better to come back.

Naturally the first post of 2012 shall be resolution-themed. Luckily this one is a two-fer.

1. Here is a link to the article I wrote for Thought Catalog - 20 Resolutions for 20-Somethings. It contains lots of advice I am giving and some advice I am taking.

2. But because this is a smaller and far more personal corner of the world wide web, below are my actual New Year's resolutions for 2012. I would like to also mention whether or not I accomplished my resolutions for 2011, but I can't remember any of them. Luckily I won't have that same problem in 2013 because they'll be right here...one more reason you should probably start your own blog in 2012.

2012 New Year's Resolutions

1. Read the newspaper more regularly - and not just the arts, travel, and dining sections.

2. Get those Dr. Scholls inserts for all my high heels - my dogs have been barking a lot more lately, and from what I can tell they're saying things like, you've got five more years before mandatory heel surgery...

3. Place more phone calls to friends - I'm in touch over e-mail, text, gchat, Facebook, and Twitter, but it's not the same.

4. Podcast - I have a feeling this was one of my resolutions from 2011...

5. Print out pictures and put them in albums - because someday I'm going to be too old to know how to use a computer, and then how will I look at all my Instagramed photos of the food I've ordered at restaurants?!

6. Be more in touch with my Meme in Minnesota and my Poppop in New Jersey - they both love to read, so I think I'll also send them books.

7. Develop more of/any form of poker face - not for the purpose of playing poker but for the purpose of conversing with crazy people, sitting in on miserable meetings, and/or convincing my boyfriend that I won't fall asleep during the movie.

8. Pack more lunches for work - the money and calorie savings make this a no-brainer.

9. Continue to address crippling road rage - and/or continue to find better short cuts during rush/all hours.

10. Go "Hm" less - So apparently I go "hm" a lot. Like, I ask you a question, you give me an answer, and I respond with "hm." My "hm" means many things. 1. I find that interesting. 2. I find that strange. 3. I find that unlikely/wrong/bad/displeasing. 4. I am now thinking more about whatever it is you said. I have been known to "hm" things like that lady inside my GPS (Her: "Turn left on Highway 405" Me: "Hm") and Siri (Her: "There is no rain in tomorrow's forecast" Me: "Hm"). Regardless of how valid the "hm" may be, I think it annoys some/all people, and I think it would be best to say either what I'm actually thinking or nothing at all.

Kindly share your hopefully equally bizarre resolutions in comments below.

And, as always, wish me luck!

Sometimes deciding you want something is the first, best step

2011-12-19T10:22:00.004-05:00

I was at a really lovely holiday dinner party last weekend attended by some good friends, some acquaintances, and some people I'd never met. It was the sort of event where conversation usually centers on what movies people have seen, what industry news people have been buzzing about or who already has plans for NYE (see, LA isn't that bad).

Which is why I was so shocked when one of the acquaintances among the group sat down next to R and me, and started telling us about the dates he's been on recently. I said something like, hey _____, what have you been up to lately?" and he said something like, "been going on a few dates, you know, getting out there (note: in paraphrasing that I made whatever he actually said sound like something I would say. He is not nearly as cheesy.) R followed with something like, "good for you, man." (again, my voice).

The conversation would have typically shifted from that little triplet to, "so, see any good movies recently?" except that _______ had a little more to say. I won't butcher this one. What he said was essentially, "I realized recently that I'm really ready to be in a relationship, so I'm focusing on it more, and treating the dates differently."

My heart swelled like that of a Jewish mother slash relationship blogger (imagine if someone was both?!) Here was this not-particularly-close friend telling me and my boyfriend that he's committed to being in a relationship and finding love, all in a manner that made it as simple as finding a new job. "I'm ready to explore other opportunities, so I'm applying around."

It really struck me. I can't decide if that's because I've known far less mature men in my time, or if it's because this man was comfortable enough to share his position at a casual dinner party. Or maybe it struck me because he was so casual, and yet so clear about it.

I want a girlfriend. Don't care who knows. That's how I feel.

I think I'm a victim of a generation less apt to feel that way. Or maybe it's that we didn't want to admit we felt that way? In my five years in Manhattan and 1.5 years in L.A. I've heard one, maybe two people say that, and both of them were women.

This guy was not only confident in his choice but also confident in himself to confess it to us. Again, I don't know him well, but in that moment I felt I knew him well enough to do exactly what his move warranted in return: I set him up.

As I've said before, there are 6.5 ways to meet someone, and anyone who takes advantage of one of those ways before my very eyes deserves to be rewarded.

______ will find someone to be his girlfriend, and probably pretty soon. Part of that will be because he's a great guy with great qualities, but a lot of that will be because he is ready, and had the courage to share that with new friends at a lovely holiday dinner party.

Reflecting on Iraq and the very specific set of 20-nothings involved

2011-12-16T07:00:00.000-05:00

So the war in Iraq is officially over. It has been one year short of a decade since it began.

This isn't a political blog, so I won't share my feelings about the justification for why we went to war, the reasons we were there for 9 years, and what our leaders should do now that it's over. I will say that I was and remain opposed to the war and am very happy that it's over.

I was 19 years old when the war began - one year shy of being a 20-nothing myself. That's around the same age as thousands of soldiers who were shipped off to Iraq while I studied Communications and flip cup in a cozy enclave outside Boston. I turned 20, then 21, then graduated from college and spent the following six years defining my life in whatever way I saw fit. I struggled. I questioned things. I made a million choices.

My life from 20 to 28 was completely perpendicular to that of a soldier in the Iraq war, if that's even a saying. We were parallel in age but completely opposite in life milestones. My life was entirely my own to direct. Their lives hinged on assignments, tours, and life-threatening operations. I cannot imagine their experience, no matter how hard I try to relate.

I do not have numbers or stats, but given the news coverage, I can assume that hundreds of them are now permanently injured, and even more will suffer from PTSD for decades to come. Many left in their first year or so of marriage, others missed the births of children or their first months of life, and even more delayed all those fundamental firsts of being a 20-something while they endured another list of firsts no one should ever have to experience.

I wonder how they would define being a 20-something in America? I wonder what they think about dating or hooking up? What's their feeling on how the economy has affected our coming-of-age in America or how different today's post-grads are from those ten, twenty or thirty years prior? What is their feeling about how they spent the first eight years of their 20s? How is it that they want to spend the next?

I don't have an agenda or thesis statement for this post, I just felt compelled to say something about who these soldiers are and what they've given up as we mark the end of this unprecedented time in our country's history. There is a group of people whose personal history is forever changed because of their time in this war. In many ways those people are my peers, and yet I could not feel further from their experience over the same exact years I lived.

All I know is that I could not have survived what they survived, which is why, on this momentous end to a momentous time, I am eternally grateful.

Girl scores $1,200+ in free meals from Match.com dates, blogger laments state of the dating world...

2011-12-14T07:00:00.000-05:00

If last week's post about Mike who doth protest too much was a gem, today's is a blood diamond.

Meet Jessica Sporty - the girl who wracked up $1,200 a month in free dinners via match.com dates. Here is the article that broke her "story" and here is a "news story" ABC ran about her experience.

There are a few important details before we get into the "here are my thoughts on this mess."

-Her $45k salary was not enough and she needed at least an extra $500 a month and sometimes $1,000 to pay her credit card bills and afford her $1,475 a month apartment in Murray Hill.

-The investment banker types were thrilled to woo her with extraordinary restaurants like the underground taqueria La Esquina and a Japanese restaurant, Megu, in Tribeca. One guy even took her to a champagne bar and purchased a $200 bottle.

-She went from easily spending $500 a month on dinners alone to having someone else dole out an average of $60-plus per night. She also stopped eating lunch and opted for a light breakfast to save even more.

-One of [Jessica's roommates] called for making spreadsheets about each guy who took them out for their drinks and/or meals. It included names, photos and details from their Match.com accounts. The girls also let each other know where they were going for the night.

-“It was exhausting," she said. "I needed my sleep, and I was done playing the game," Sport said.

-Jessica currently has a boyfriend who she did not meet online.

I'd also recommend watching the "news story" so you get a feel for Jessica's person and attitude about this whole thing, but that's up to how much time you allot to wasting each day.

Okay. Now here are my thoughts on this mess:

-Ultimately this is a silly story about a girl who took advantage of guys using technology that makes this all very easy and common. As I said to Matt when he passed it along, "I don't have much to say about this other than 'some people are assholes' or maybe 'most people are assholes.' But then I thought harder about it and realized that there's a bigger issue here surrounding why people are enabled to be such assholes.

-$1,457 on a 45K salary is not financially responsible, especially if you want a lifestyle that costs between $500 and $1,000 a month in dinners. Someone should have told Jessica that before she moved into the city. She needed a way to "have her cake and eat it too" which seems to be a condition with which many 20-somethings are plagued. I once had 5K in credit card debt to prove it. Taking advantage of men so that she could dine at the hottest spots and still afford the finer things in life was more important to Jessica than being a decent human being. This is a problem, world.

-To play my own devil's advocate - any man dumb enough to buy a $200 bottle of anything on a first date is cooking his own goose. It is nice to treat someone to a nice meal, but you can get a nice meal for $60, total. Or, better yet, start with a drink and see if you actually like the person enough to take them to Megu. I suspect that's not what the date is about for these guys, though, which means they're not entirely innocent in this game.

-Not eating lunch so you have enough money is a big, big problem. It's not healthy and it represents a massive issue with budgeting and prioritizing money. Sorry to go all MOM on that detail, but it's not a flip and funny practice of a savvy, single New Yorker. It's an eating disorder.

-The news article and subsequent ABC News interview don't really address how Jessica felt about any of these man. She's never asked if she feels like she used them. She's never asked if she feels like she was owed these dinner. All we get is her saying that she's "traditional" and that she believes a man should pay for dinner on the first date. But was she out to meet a boyfriend? Was she actually interested in any of these men? Did she do this for absolutely anything beyond free meals? Resolving that, "at least that awful date was worth a free meal," is one thing. Developing a spreadsheet to track your train of free dinners is another.

-Bottom line: this isn't fair to online daters and it isn't fair to women. That's why this isn't just a "some people are assholes story," it's a "one bad apple can spoil it for the bunch," tale. It's an exaggerated example of a selfish and shallow woman who reflects poorly on the world of online dating, 20-something women, and, frankly, New York City (yes, my heart just hurt a little typing that).

Please, please don't do this, ladies. And guys, please be a little more sensible about what you're giving a woman on the very first date.

And Hollywood, SO HELP ME GOD if you give this girl a book deal...

End rant.

Happy Holidays!

The Blog is 4 Years Old This Week

2011-12-12T07:00:00.000-05:00

When I graduated from college, I remember wondering if I would ever have as significant a growth experience over a mere four years. My time from freshman to senior year was life-defining, and luckily my roommates saved the four years of quote walls that prove it.

Today marks another four year chunk of time, and as I look back on the 640 posts I've written since starting this blog in December of 2007, it's frighteningly clear what a significant experience this too has become. Chief among all the experiences that have been so significant is the experience of seeing changes in my writing.

In my "new life" of pursuing writing for more than hobby slash weekend recap, the idea of "voice" is a constant. Finding your voice. Writing in your voice. Defining your voice. Honing your voice.

I had no clue what the concept meant for a very long time. People would say they enjoyed my voice or related to my voice, and I would smile and nod. I knew this voice situation was a good thing, I just had no idea what it really meant or how I made it happen. So I threw pride to the wind and asked around...for about 3.5 years.

Here is what I now believe I know about the writer's voice, and how it is found:

Your "voice" is the consistent tone and rhythm that defines the your writing. Like a band has a "sound" a writer has a "voice" - qualities that make everything by a given writer sound and feel the same. Short, to-the-point sentences, perhaps. Long, extremely descriptive passages, maybe. It could also be extremely conversational language or the use of lots of dialogue. Every writer has their style. A writer's voice is both the consistent use of those style elements and the cadence of the writing. Literally when you read a series of pieces by a given author they should all feel like they have a similar "beat."

My voice, for example, is extremely conversational (often at the expense of grammar...). When I write, I am literally saying the words in my head and then typing them into the little Blogger box. If I read a sentence back and it doesn't sound like something I would say out loud, I change it. I have a very specific conversation style in real life. I think it's a mix of extreme honesty, self-deprecating humor, and the use of real life-inspired metaphors to explain things, but you guys would probably know better. My voice on the page is my voice in my head, which is why some of my closest friends say they read these blog posts in my actual talking voice (which must be super weird).

How I found that voice is still a bit of a mystery to me, but I think the truth is that I found it because I wrote SO DAMN MUCH. Two or three posts per week for four years plus additional freelance writing assignments and all the stuff that doesn't make the blog. All that writing, reading back, and re-writing makes you incredibly familiar with the way you think and write. It just starts to come out a certain way because the writing muscle shifts into autopilot. When I'm having a really difficult time with a given piece, I always realize it's because I'm trying to write in a voice that isn't mine. When a post writes itself, I realize it's because I let go and wrote exactly what felt right.

I realize that's the most simplistic definition of "voice" and "how to find it" that one could give, but I think that's because discovering your voice should not be difficult; it should be natural. The tough truth is that writing naturally - without ideas of what you should sound like or who you want to sound like - is incredibly hard. I know this because I sometimes attempt to write sitcom jokes, and when I read those back it's like they were written by a stranger who I instantly hate.

So I believe the point of this post is to say that "voice" is not something that happens overnight, but over 4 years of nights, it's something you cannot help but develop. And if there's one piece of advice I can offer (outside of advising people to write as much as humanly possible) I'd say that you absolutely have to like your voice, and own your voice, even if you always thought you'd be the greatest dramatic screenwriter of the 21st century but somehow end up a quirky comedy writer. Don't fight it. It will fight back harder.

On a 4th blog birthday aside: My feelings at this four year mark are not entirely different from those I felt at the blog's first, second, and third birthdays. I am grateful. I am proud. I am extremely aware of how much this writing experience has changed my entire life. And, above all, I remain so, so rewarded by the connection to all of you that this blog allows. Please keep e-mailing, commenting and reading. We've got two full years to go before I age out of this whole crazy project.

And, as I say every single year, thank you Pierson, for forcing me to start it in the first place.

Things we can all learn from the 1,615-word e-mail that investment banker wrote to the girl who "lead him on"

2011-12-08T07:00:00.000-05:00

Guys, today is a special day - a very special day - for it is only once in a brilliantly blue moon that we're gifted the kind of gem my friend Nic forwarded my way yesterday afternoon. "I feel like you'll appreciate this," he said. Understatement of the fiscal quarter, Nic.

Via this link you'll find an e-mail written by a man named Mike to a girl with whom he enjoyed one date. Unfortunately, girl did not feel that same enjoyment. Mike followed-up hoping for a second get-together. Girl never replied. The story would end there, like so so many stories have before, except that Mike is not so so many men. He is a bizarre, angry genius. Instead of burying his face in a dirty martini or blogging about it, like normal people would do, he fought back, hard...and really, really weird.

The thing is - there are actually some valid statements within Mike's 1,615-word rant. They're rendered obsolete by the sheer insanity of the rest of his diatribe, but I've taken the time to separate what is NUTS from what is VALID so that we may all learn a lesson...or 1,615.

Here goes:

"FYI, I suggest that you keep in mind that emails sound more impersonal, harsher, and are easier to misinterpret than in-person or phone communication. After all, people can’t see someone’s body language or tone of voice in an email."

VALID - e-mails can be difficult to fully interpret on account of the lack of body language and tone of voice. Then there are some e-mails whose intended tone is completely lost on account of their bat-shit-crazy content. I suggest that you keep that in mind too, Mike.

"You played with your hair a lot. A woman playing with her hair is a common sign of flirtation."

NUTS, and frankly INSULTING. Girls play with their hair for dozens of reasons that have nothing to do with you, Mike. They may be nervous. They may be vein. They may be bored. They may be wearing a brand new wig to cover their newly shaved head on account of recent chemo treatments. Take that.

"You said, “It was nice to meet you.” at the end of our date. A woman could say this statement as a way to show that she isn’t interested in seeing a man again or she could mean what she said–that it was nice to meet you. The statement, by itself, is inconclusive"

NUTS, or in this case WRONG. "It was nice to meet you" is the blow-off, and everybody knows it. Examples of conclusive statement include: Can we do this again sometime? Do you want to come upstairs? I had a really, really great time... or no words at all because you're too busy making out.

"If you don’t want to go again, then apparently you didn’t think our first date was good enough to lead to a second date. Dating or a relationship is not a Hollywood movie. It’s good to keep that in mind."

VALID. Real life is not a Hollywood movie, it's true Mike. What exactly that has to do with the first part of this paragraph or the idea of this e-mail overall is unclear, but the Hollywood is not equal to life fact remains.

"You’re very busy. It would be very convenient for you to date me because we have the same interests. We already go to classical music performances by ourselves. If we go to classical music performances together, it wouldn’t take any significant additional time on your part."

ALSO VALID. I can't say I've ever heard that pitch for a relationship, but facts are facts and those facts are true.

"I assume that you find me physically attractive. If you didn’t find me physically attractive, then it would have been irrational for you to go out with me in the first place. After all, our first date was not a blind date. You already knew what I looked like before our date."

NUTS, sadly. I hate to break this to you Mike slash man-at-large, but sometimes girls go out with guys that they do not find physically attractive. They may want free dinner. They may want to feel good about themselves. They may be hoping the guy is better looking in person. Unfortunately there are lots of reasons, none of which are particularly good.

"People don’t grow on trees. I hope you appreciate the potential we have."

VALID. But really not a great argument for why this girl should date you. Stick with the "saving-time-via-shared-activities" thing.

"Am I sensitive person? Sure, I am. I think it’s better to be sensitive than to be insensitive. There are too many impolite, insensitive people in the world."

VALID, but... There is a difference between being sensitive and being NUTS. Mike, I agree that too many people are far too insensitive, and perhaps if you had written a 200 versus 1,615 word e-mail to this woman you could have helped the cause of sensitive men everywhere. Unfortunately, you did the opposite...

"I suggest that we continue to go out and see what happens. Needless to say, I find you less appealing now (given that you haven’t returned my messages) than I did at our first date."

HAHAHAHA.

"If you don’t want to go out again, then you should have called to tell me so. Even sending a text message would have been better than nothing. In my opinion, not responding to my messages is impolite, immature, passive aggressive, and cowardly."

VALID, completely and totally. Call, text or e-mail, people. Lie if you have to, but don't just drop off the face of the earth. Now you have the potential to receive an e-mail akin to this gem as motivation to do the right thing.

"I have tried to write this email well, but it’s not perfect."

WRONG. This e-mail is perfect Mike. Absolutely perfect.

The question is...is it real?

Driving Miss Jessie: a tale of female empowerment

2011-12-06T07:00:00.000-05:00

Sunday night I had R drop me off and then pick me up following my SUNDAY NIGHT SEX TALKS show (he can't attend because he is a boy), and it threw my entire sense of independence for a loop.

And you thought you had problems.

When I was single, I used to make lots of grandiose statements about the things I would never do if/when I got into a relationship. I’ll never be one of those PDA-couples. I’ll never share a Google calendar of our collective plans. I’ll never “we” every single thing the two of us do.

Primary among my “nevers” was an entire list of no-no’s involving cars. I cannot explain the origin of this issue, but I have a whole string of preconceived feelings about female independence and cars. I don’t like it when the guy always drives. I don’t like it when the girl expects him to drive. And I really don’t like it when a girl lets her boyfriend drive her car while she “passenges.” I had a friend in college who relinquished all driving duties the minute she got into a serious relationship. It was car her and yet he assumed full control. This annoyed me endlessly.

It’s worth noting that I spent 100% of my previous dating life without a car of my own. I dated my high school boyfriend from 16-17 (pre-license years in New Jersey) and the rest of my relationships were conducted in either Boston or New York. So these “issues” of mine were never tested. I never had a car for a guy to never drive.

And then by some bizarre twist of inconvenient fate, I got both my first car and my first meaningful adult relationship at the exact same time.

I was determined to follow my pre-planned plan. I would drive 50% of the time. I would never make him drop me off places because I didn’t feel like parking. And my car would by mine to pilot. I wouldn’t be some helpless housewife relinquishing my independence one car ride at a time. I am 28! It is 2011! I drive a Salsa Red Jetta! Hear my engine roar! (had to, sorry)

Here is what I have learned about myself, R, cars, and the nature of female independence in the 12 + month since I’ve had both a boyfriend and a car:

I’m not a very good driver. This is not to say that I get into accidents or breaks laws, I just fluctuate between intense road rage when I know where I’m going and intense anxiety when I don’t. I’m getting better with each 45 minute commute, but my magical, romance with a sporty ride and the open road is not in the near future, if it exists at all.

I don’t particularly like driving. Even when I’m having a great driving day, I don’t enjoy it. Plus it’s shockingly void of the intense feeling of satisfaction and female empowerment I’ve been envisioning all these years. Real puzzler.

R is a really good driver. He has six years of practice on me and does not fluster under extreme traffic or complete loss of direction. He does make this very obvious face when he’s pretending to know where he’s going but has absolutely not idea, but it’s a silent face, so it’s fine.

R really likes to drive. I haven’t asked him if he experiences an intense surge of satisfaction and male empowerment, but I’m trying to tone done the gender studies so our relationship feels less like getting a minor in women’s lib.

It’s often very nice to be driven, even if it is in your own car. I don’t think I’m turning back the feminist clock when I say that if feels like to have someone in control of getting you from point A to point B. You may feel safe. You may feel secure. You may feel a little romantic if/when that person opens the door. It’s not necessary, but it’s not negative.

I asked R to drive me to my show on Sunday night because I didn’t want to worry about parking on Santa Monica Boulevard and lugging all my stuff into the bar. Also, I have to go into the back door, which is through a dark alley that can feature some unsavory characters. These are all the reasons I started to explain this to him over our pre-show sushi dinner. Then I cut the female empowerment crap and told him the truth: I’d like you to drop me off because I get a little nervous before my show, and it would be nice to have you there to send me off. I’d also like you to drop me off so you can pick me up when the show is over and stop in for a drink to meet some of the ladies. And finally, it will be nice to ride home together so I can tell you about every detail of the show on our drive home!

“Wow. That was big,” he said.

But it wasn’t really. They’re just cars, and it's just driving...unless you choose to make them the cornerstones of your own feminist agenda, in which case, e-mail me, and we’ll have a chat.

All I Want For Christmas, literally

2011-12-02T07:00:00.000-05:00

Dear Santa slash All My Friends and Family,

I believe I have been reasonably good this year (I paid off all my credit cards and didn't intentionally rear-end any cars!) and, as such, would like to request the following gifts in honor of the upcoming holidays. I've provided images where necessary. Please see me with any questions.

1. For all Los Angeles drivers to be better drivers.

I want them to get off the phone and pay attention to the road. I want them to really gun it when that green arrow light turns on. I want them to stop blatantly running red lights. I want them to use their blinker every time they intend to turn and never accidentally ride with it on for 10+ blocks. And, more than anything else, I want them to go faster, always, but especially on Olympic Blvd between Beverly Glen and Robertson. It is a STRAIGHT SHOT people!

2. Some cozy, plaid shirts

Here are some thought-starters. I'm not picky about color.

3. The Occupy Wall Street movement to come back strong and a little more organized

I think it's good, noble, and necessary, and I think there's got to be a way for the organizers to maintain their presence within the constructs of what the various cities will allow.

4. To stop dreaming about being super late and unprepared for things.

The point of spending 6-8 hours in a peaceful slumber is to re-charge for the day ahead! Enough of this running around without my contacts on (constant dream feature) realizing I'm about to blow it on one of the dozens of projects I'm juggling in dreamland. I want sex dreams or amazing-deals-shopping dreams for all of 2012!

5. A really nice smelling candle for my bedroom.

It's just one of those things you never think to buy yourself, right? Here, conveniently, is a picture featuring my favorite brand!

6. Adele's vocal chord issues to be resolved

I'm worried sick about her you guys! We need all of our top people on this because she has got to get better, pronto (note: this gift request is also made on behalf of my sister Dani, who has also been pretty good this year).

7. Something in Aztec print

I'm really loving the trend, and would like it in my life slash closet. Here's a fun option from Forever21!

8. For E! to eliminate at least one Kardashian program currently running on its network.

What do they have now? 4? I don't think I'm asking for much here.

9. One of those rings where some lovely word like "oui" or "love" is written out in silver cursive.

Those are so cute, right?? Every time I see one on Pinterest, I re-pin it! Note: I'm not in love with the diamond over the "i" in the "oui." Just saying...

10. To complete my first feature film

This is a gift I will/must give myself/the people who are waiting patiently for me to finish it.
It's getting really close guys, promise.

11. A lifetime supply of Sharpie pens!

These are beyond a shadow of a doubt the finest pens on the market (in my opinion), and when I find myself needing to write something and not having a Sharpie pen at my disposal, I'm bummed.

12. Silver earrings

I could use some big hoops and a dangly option or two. Nothing fancy.

13. A stronger command over Los Angeles driving short cuts

I just want to know how to sneak around insane traffic stoppage without having to get out my GPS or find my location via the molasses-like Internet connection on my Blackberry.

14. To be producing a regular, 20-Nothings podcast

See "to complete my first feature film" replace "the people who are waiting patiently for me to finish it" with "the hundreds of thousands of people who are yet unaware of the impact it will have on their lives."

15. This office, and with it Jenna Lyon's entire wardrobe...and son.

That should do it for this year!

-J

December SUNDAY NIGHT SEX TALKS details + performers

2011-12-01T07:00:00.000-05:00

(CLICK TO BUY YOUR TIX)

It's that time of the month again! Another SNST is this coming Sunday, and in honor of December, we're making this storytelling session holiday-themed.

Sunday, December 4th at 8:30pm, five hysterical and talented performers will take the Bar Lubitsch stage for the third installment in my girls-only, R-rated storytelling series. Sorry, but it really is NO BOYS ALLOWED.

The topic: All I want for ChrisKwanzMakkah is ______________________.

The format: Free-form storytelling based on the prompt. The show will run 1 hr.

The talent: TV writers, feature writers, stand-ups, actresses and moi!

Tickets: (Oooone more time... ) $6 at Brown Paper Tickets

The first two shows were a huge success, so don't miss out! E-mail me at 20Nothings@gmail.com with questions, comment, talent suggestions and positive RSVPs! Hoping to see many of you on 12/4 (sorry boys...).

Alex Cooley

Carley Steiner Melissa Marie Stephens

Melissa Hunter

J.C. Coccoli

I recently heard some bad advice on LOVELINES regarding what defines a slut

2011-11-30T07:00:00.000-05:00

So I'm sitting in some bizarre, late-night traffic the other day, flipping the old radio dial, and I stumble upon a blast from our collective pasts - LOVELINES! Apparently it's still around and hosted by some guy named Mike, some girl named Simone, and its now-famous originator, Dr. Drew.

I dropped in on the program at the beginning of a call from a 17-year-old, Midwestern girl named Katie. Katie was calling to ask the hosts if the amount of sex she's having makes her a slut. Her story is that she's been sleeping around and experimenting since breaking up with her boyfriend, but is, "worried people are going to think [she's] a slut now." In response to the question of how many different partners she has per month (I think Dr. Drew asked), she said, about four. Katie asked the panel (and this part I remember clear as day), "Like, how long should I wait in between having sex so I'm not a slut?"

I'm listening and thinking, whoa that's a loaded question, and four people per month is a lot for a 17-year-0ld slash anyone, but let's see what the experts have to say. Surely they'll address the bigger issue of how she feels about this sex and why she's doing it versus the number of partners and time span between sexual encounters. They'll probably also get into why she doesn't want to be a slut and what being a slut means in her mind. After all, these people are professionals, right?

Wrong.

Mike and Dr. Drew punted to Simone (the girl) to respond, resulting in a confusing and unclear answer that I think boiled down to, "you should wait at least a week between sex partners." (in fairness, Simone said that's what she would do). Simone did acknowledge that Katie is young and should spend time thinking about how long she waits in between unique partners. She also admitted that a "slut" is hard to define (here's my own attempt from way back when). But she in no way addressed the bigger issues at hand (in my opinion): what does Katie think it means to be a slut? why is she concerned about being a slut? what is motivating her to have the sex she is having in the first place? how does she feel about herself after the sex? What about before the sex? What if the answer is, "yes, you're a slut," - then how would Katie feel?

I get that this is a radio show and not a psychology class, but if 2011 is anything like 1999 then impressionable young teens were listening in to that call on the Walkmen (iPhones?) they have stuffed under their pillows. And unfortunately those kids got a hackey answer to a pretty significant question.

And so, even though I doubt this will reach Katie, doubt many teens read this blog, and am perhaps less qualified to answer than Simone, here is how I would have responded:

Katie, the whole word slut - what it means, who is one, who gets to decide - is really tricky. Some people think you're a slut if you sleep with anyone before you're married. Other people think there's no such thing as a slut and that you should be able to sleep with whomever you want, whenever you want to. Then there are people who think being a slut is about being careless about sex and your body. There is no right or wrong answer.

I personally think that the word "slut" should have much more to do with how you feel about the sex you're having. Does it make you feel empty? Does it make you feel weird? Do you personally feel like it's too much, or are you totally comfortable with it? It sounds like you're worried about what other people think of the amount of sex you're having. Why is that? And are you worried about it yourself?

Now, aside from the whole "what-defines-a-slut" thing, I have to be honest with you and say that multiple sex partners per month at your age makes me worry. The decision to have sex is a very important one because it affects your body and your mind, and when we're young - like you are - we know less about our bodies and minds. If I were you I would think carefully about who I want to have sex with, and more importantly, why I want to have sex with that person. People have all sorts of definitions and labels for all sorts of thing - especially when it comes to sex - but the only thing that's important at the end of the day is how you feel about yourself and how you take care of yourself.

I hope that's a helpful answer. If I were you I would also talk it over with a good friend so you have more time to think through your feelings.

Things I Learned At My 10-Year High School Reunion

2011-11-28T14:50:00.003-05:00

I survived, and not just barely. Despite the apprehensions, nerves, and my mother's insistence that I was wearing something out of season, the event was a success. 100 of the 300+ FTHS 2001 grads attended, and 75% of the people I was most excited to see were part of that group.

Of course no highly-anticipated, first-time, 20-something experience is without its list of learnings. Here, in no particular order, are mine.

1. Ten-year high school reunions feature three kinds of conversations:

2-minute, faux catch-ups with people you weren't really friends with (How are you? How's your family? Great! So good to see you!)
10-minute, legit catch-ups with people you, sadly, didn't keep in touch with (Actual questions about what the person is/has been/intends to do)
35-minute conversations with people you've remained friends with and/or know everything about through Facebook (Mostly gossip about everyone else in attendance)

The first are awkward, the second are nostalgic, and the third remind you why you kept in touch with these people in the first place.

2. People either look exactly the same or DRASTICALLY different.

99% of the people look only 10% different, 10 years later. The girls look slightly older, more mature, and seem to have stopped doing that make-curly-hair-straight-with-lots-of-gel thing. The guys are more chiseled in the face, have filled out a tiny bit in the middle, and seem to have stopped going tanning three time a week (note: I'm from Central Jersey). And then there are the few people who have either lost of gained massive amounts of weight. These stats are taken from a sample of 100 people, but I'd bet they're pretty typical of all classes.

3. VERY few people who were together in high school are still together.

Again, this could be attributed to the sample size or the dynamics of my graduating class.

4. Fewer people were married than I thought would be, until I thought harder about it.

I think the national average is something like 30 for men and 28 for women now? I guess I falsely assumed that my suburban NJ town would marry earlier than the national average, but as it turns out most people were in serious relationships or engaged but not yet married. So, kudos Freehold, NJ!

5. It's sort of hard to remember how close you were with some people.

You remember your best friends, and you remember the people who hated you, but that group in the middle - surface friends and friendquaintances - can be tricky to reconnect with after a decade. There will be some surprise "omg-it's-soooo-good-to-see-you!!!" and some equally surprising cold shoulders. Best to just roll with this and take every hug hello as it comes.

6. On average, people are just starting to have their lives together.

This goes with the whole most-people-aren't-married-yet thing. Ten years ago I bet most people would have been working in the same field for at least five years, buying their first house and not envisioning any massive changes in the near future. Today it felt like people had just settled into the rhythm they intend to keep for the next decade. There were first or second year lawyers, people just out of grad school, and people who had transitioned from one career to their current career. Or maybe that's just the way I decided to see the crowd on account of my continued and incomplete career change...

7. Some people may or may not inform you that they really wanted to make out with you all through high school.

This will likely be booze-induced and definitely be awkward. Just hope some awesome people are standing next to you when it happens so you can all remember the magic together.

Six Fashion Trends That Make Me Feel Old

2011-11-22T07:00:00.001-05:00

I remember watching the old church ladies who sat in the front row of my suburban New Jersey church roll their eyes as a jeans clad parishioner precessed up for Communion. “What do they think this is??” I could hear their eye-rolls says, “the Costco?!”

Two weeks ago I had a similar reaction to a young professional I saw sporting a less than professional, but not doubt young, look. “What do they think this is??” I said out loud to the wall of my cubicle, “a Hollywood club?!”

I am not old, nor am I a church lady, and I have been know to take some real fashion risks, but there is a time and a place and a season and a standard. And there is also, apparently, an age when you look at some of the wilder fashion trends and go, “how dare she!” versus what you used to say, which was, nothing.

Five Fashion Trends I Cannot Get Behind/You Know You’re Old When...

1. Leggings as pants (without a long shirt covering your butt).

To me this is the clear plastic bra straps of the new Millennium. Tight pants are one (bad enough) thing, but not pants are another. If you wanna rock them with your glitter Ugg boots to pick up coffee at Joan's on Third, go for it, but the office should be reserved as a zone where people remain curious about the exact outline of your buttocks and twinkie (the term my former ballet teacher bizarrely used for crotch).

2. Black lace bras under see-through shirts.

This is a big West Coast thing, and, I will be honest, I enjoy it at the right venues. Those venues do not include work, a fine dinner establishment or a baby shower. Now I'm going to say something that I will likely live to regret, so I'll blame the church lady now living on my shoulder: you look like a hussy.

3. Beanie hats in-doors, all day

Fedoras, cowboy hats, J. Lo floppies, some berets - all reasonable hats to wear indoors as a piece of your ensemble. They are a fashion item. Wool beanies made popular by ski instructors and people who are freezing cold are a function item. No, I cannot explain to you why a guy wearing a wool beanie makes me aggressively roll my eyes and a girl wearing a floppy beret does not, but it probably has something to do with the fact that the girl is me, and that I am now old.

4. Raccoon eyes

Seriously, what are you doing? Trying to make your eyes look bigger (they don't)? Expressing your anger through make-up application (that's weird)? Showing your support for actual raccoons (they don't want it)? You look weird, and sad, and like you think this brunch restaurant is a futuristic Vogue editorial spread (which it might be, but you're not in it). Smokey eyes = sexy. Black eyes = who hit you?

5. Platform shoes so high you can only wear them sitting down

See above. Replace sad with "freakishly tall" and Vogue editorial spread with "couture runway show."

6. Insane up-dos

This one is the most curious to me. I understand a sloppy pony or a loose bun. I'm also kinda into that thing where you make a big loop and plop it on top of your head. What I can't get behind is this look where the pony tail is akin to a dirty rats nest that sits somewhere neither top, nor back, nor side of the head. I have a feeling the look is meant to say, "I care so little about this day/myself/you that I'm just going to make rave hands with my hair and then slap a hair tie around it." So if that's what you're going for, mission accomplished.

There was a time when these fashion infractions wouldn't make me look twice. I lived in Manhattan for five years, after all. But it would appear that I'm shifting from a Greenwich Village freak-show enthusiast to a judgmental old church lady...with a blog.

Please share your own old church lady fashion opinions in comments, so I don't feel like the only curmudgeon under the age of 60.

Why I Think Some Millennial Women Are Burning Out At Work by 30

2011-11-18T13:32:00.003-05:00

You won't be shocked to hear that this recent Forbes article on young women burning out at work before the age of 30 caught my eye. I am a woman. I am burning out at work, and I am before the age of 30.

The piece is a good read on a very interesting topic, but I think it missed one big area of "why" that's worth discussing whenever discussing women under the age of 30.

Here are the very valid reasons the article does attribute to this burn-out trend:

Women have been working their tails off since high school to compete for the best colleges and best jobs
Many Millennial women have Type-A personalities (which is tied to the first reason).
Women are more inclined to view life as a "sprint" versus a "marathon." (note: the article doesn't delve into why, but I assume this is some a-woman's-brain-just-works-that-way situation, or perhaps the reason this article left out, which I discuss below)
Women have unrealistic expectations about the early years of employment, namely that they won't be so brutal.

Some of these reasons focuses on the fact that women are frustrated that they have to do so much. They're not burning out because they're overworked and putting excessive pressure on themselves, they're burned out because they didn't expect the work to be so hard. That's fine and valid, but it's not the area of this issue that interests me. I want to talk about why women put such excessive pressure on themselves to succeed from 2-0 to 3-0 in the first place. It's here that I think the article misses a giant point. Don't kill me for saying this, but what about:

Women are rushing to achieve success before they transition into being mothers

If someone had interviewed me for this article that's exactly the rationale I would have given.

I am extremely driven to succeed and have been since I first joined the work force for two reasons 1. because my career is wildly important to me, and I want to succeed for my own, personal fulfillment and 2. because at a certain point I intend to transition out of being so career-focused and into being more family-focused. I've know this for many years, and I think about it constantly as I plan my next career moves.

Maybe that makes me oddly traditional for a Millennial woman? Maybe it makes me too cynical about the fact that today's women can "have it all"? I don't know what it makes me, I just know that it's how I feel and therefore very much a part of how I engage with the work place.

As I type this, I wonder if my confession will get a lot of backlash from people who find my position archaic and anti-feminist. Is the idea that I'm compelled to ascend to a certain level of success before I start a family too narrow? too vintage? too much? I honestly don't know, nor do I know if it's the right way to approach my career and my life. I just know it's a source of motivation and a very real truth.

So all I'm saying is that if you're going to write an article about how women under thirty view their role in the work place, especially one that discusses why they're overwhelmed, you can't ignore the idea that around the age of 30 women think very seriously about adding a second career to their lives. If I'm thinking about it, others are too.

How to receive notes on the first draft of your first feature film...from your boyfriend

2011-11-16T14:41:00.007-05:00

There is nothing quite as terrifying as the moment you receive notes on the first draft of the first feature film you've ever written, especially if those notes are coming from the person who has elected to date you.

"Notes" is the catch-all term for suggested changes to your draft, AKA a line-by-line review of all the things you did poorly/wrong. This makes the notes process akin to you unhinging your brain and saying, "here is the summation of all that I believe is funny, smart and well-written, please judge it out loud and in front of me!" Then, add to that the fact that this script is not for hobby or sport, but rather a piece of material intended to launch your entire career. Yes, some of that is an overly dramatic, over-exaggeration. No, that doesn't remotely change the way you feel.

And so, based on all-too-recent-events, I give you my personal HOW TO guide for coming out of your very first notes session both alive and still in a relationship.

Wear something really nice. I find people are less-inclined to be cruel if they think you look particularly good, especially if those people date you. So, for example, PJ stretch pants and a man's flannel shirt would be the wrong thing to wear, especially if you're pairing that ensemble with day-old hair and your coke-bottle glasses.

Consider time of day when scheduling your notes session. Early morning can be tricky because your entire day will likely be ruined based on the notes. Similarly, 10:30pm on a Tuesday when you're fighting a nasty sore throat can be tricky because it's 10:30pm on a Tuesday and you're fighting a nasty sore throat.

Sit across from, not next to the note-er. Close proximity is your enemy in this process. You want to establish a professional distance between yourself and the other party, so that when he knife-jabs a note directly into your creative core, he'll have to get up from the table and walk his butt around it to deliver the appropriate, apologetic hug.

Think twice about making a stink about any note that comes prior to page 65. Trudging through 70 more pages of notes while employing the silent treatment is not pleasant or convenient.

Don't say the following: "Writer to development executive, that was a shitty note." But if you're going to, definitely don't add, "Listen," to the front of it and deliver it dripping with nasty tone.

Remember to say thank you for specific notes throughout the process. This will endear your reader to you and make it seem as though you are both happy and stable.

Try not to flip to the last page or check the time on your non-existent watch through the session. I don't think this advice requires an explanation.

When the notes session is complete, thank the noter-er in your most convincingly sincere voice. This person just spent the past 1.5 hours coddling your sensitive writer psyche through 115 pages of notes on a script he sped-read so you could turn it in on time. Prove that you know and appreciate that as much as you should.

This post was written with love and admiration for R, my very first note-er, and Michael, my roommate, who arrived home just in time to catch the worst of it all.

This is how a man of 29 years should be

2011-11-14T07:00:00.002-05:00

A few thoughts on the way of man of 29 years should behave...

A man of 29 years should call his parents and siblings on the phone every so often.

He should be willing, able, and excited to host a group of friends at his place for a party.

He should know how to call a woman he wants to date and make it clear to her that he wants to date her.

He should have passions that are not sports related. Maybe music? Maybe cooking? Maybe old cars or travel? Something to prove he’s interested in the world beyond his world.

He should know where he stands politically.

He doesn’t need to know exactly where he wants to be at 40 or 55, but he should have a plan for the next few years, and a plan to make that plan a reality.

He should know when he needs to wear a blazer and when he can get away without one - same goes for dress shoes v. sneakers.

He should have good friends that he’s had for at least a dozen years and friends he met six months ago.

He should not be afraid of confrontation, but he should know how to appropriately confront.

He should be able to tell when people or situations are bullshit, but be able to deal with those people or situations in a non-bullshit manner.

He should know how to handle a crying woman.

He should know how to have a conversation with a 4-year-old little boy and a 94-year-old woman.

And, most importantly, when you ask anyone who’s known him over his 29 years, they should all paint a picture of the same exact man.

Happy, happy birthday to my favorite 29 year old man, who checks off all these boxes and so many more.

How To Move To Los Angeles: 7 Things That Boost My L.A. Self Esteem

2011-11-10T07:00:00.000-05:00

The series continues, which may make it my most successful series to date!

When I lived in New York I used to get a big confidence kick out of rattling off weekend changes to the subway schedule or navigating the most spaghetti-on-the-wall streets of the far West Village. Same went for spotting a top Conde editor or knowing exactly which restaurant we could walk into at 8pm on a Friday night and sit down without a wait.

Today my city-based pride points come in different shapes and sizes, but are no less important to my daily ability to jump out of bed with a wink and a smile. It's a rubber-wheeled jungle out there/here, and we east coast transplants need all the confidence we can get.

To that end, here are the 7 things that make me puff out my chest and say, "heck yeah, I know how to live in L.A." (my Mom doesn't like when I say hell on the blog).

#7 - Narrowly avoiding a car accident

I don't mean a screech-n'-swerve, I mean expert defensive driving that allows you to see the accident that could happen three wrong moves into the future. See, the streets of Los Angeles are like a combination chess and shoots n' ladders board. Every move prompts several other moves that may result in you slipping down a metaphoric slide and into a not metaphoric car.

#6 - Staying out past 3am

It is a major point of pride in this city to both close the bar and continue partying at an after-bar location. Most people barely make it past midnight, and the idea of driving/cabbing to more than one location is widely considered blasphemy.

#5 - Out-routing someone on their own route home

It goes something like this: "Oh, you live in West Hollywood? I live in West Hollywood! What's your route home?..." (several beats, smug eyes, warm fuzzy feeling of pride) "Yeah, you could definitely go that way, oooor you could save yourself 20 minutes and those phone calls you only make to kill time if you went this super genius route I'm about to gift you."

#4 - Recognizing non-celebrity celebrities

They're the writers, directors, editors, and special effects people that actually make the TV show/movie a TV show/movie. Spotting, say, the creator of Nurse Jackie makes me feel awesome because A. I love that show B. I know enough about this biz to know who she is and mostly C. I get my coffee at King's Road too, so if that's all it takes to create a hit TV show, I'm golden. (note: this has never happened, yet)

#3 - Being able to explain the details of a given world issue if/when someone asks

It's not that people here are dumb, it's just that they don't have the bandwidth to follow both "our" industry and the political industry. It is impossible to out-scoop someone who "works in the business" on any entertainment news, but it's fairly simple to know more about the latest in the Greek debt crisis. The chances of someone asking you are about as slim as me running into the creator of Nurse Jackie at Kings Road, but it could happen, and knowing that feels great.

#2 - The knowledge that anything good currently going on with your hair is owed to the total lack of humidity in the air

Sometimes it's the little things, because there are no other things... When the traffic is miserable, and you've just endured a half hour conversation about how funny a given actress is with that given actress, and you find out that some big shot writer just sold the very idea you've been writing for the past two months, a quick reminder that your hair would look like %$&*! in most other cities is all it takes to help you put down that wine bottle and keep on keeping on.

#1 - Hearing that someone else has heard of you

R to Me: "Hey I was having lunch with a manager at ___________, and I brought up your blog, and she said she's already heard of you."

I'm not going to say any more about this because it's bound to make me sound very not good. Let's just say that just because I used to live in New York doesn't mean I'm immune to to things that are painfully L.A.

What am I missing, fellow Angelinos? Gimme some more confidence boosters via comments!

Last night I met Patti Stanger's hispanic twin

2011-11-08T07:00:00.000-05:00

As of 7:30pm last night I did not have a blog post for today. The weekend was busy (culminating in the second, successful SUNDAY NIGHT SEX TALKS!), and I spent yesterday morning attempting to finish the feature I've been working on since - oh - July.

Then the blog gods shone down on me and plopped the Latin American Patti Stanger down next to me at Urth Cafe on Beverly Drive.

I'm not kidding. This woman looked like Patti (but with smaller nose), dressed like Patti (but in a bold, floral pattern vs. Patti's typical jewel tone solids), and talked like Patti (but in Sophia Vergara's voice).

I didn't catch Spanish Patti's name, so we'll just call her Patricia (Pa-treat-see-ah), but she was there to meet a new client named Paola. Paola is a beautiful, 30-year-old Bolivian ER nurse who thinks she can't find love because she's too controlling. Patricia: "I'm not going to lie to choo. It sounds like this is the case."

They sat together for 30-45 minutes as Patricia interviewed Paola about every relevant detail of her dating, relationship, family, sex, career, clothing, health, and social life. It. Was. Pure. Gold. I sat there half writing my script and half transcribing bits and pieces of their conversation for this post (so, yes, if you see me in a coffee shop where you intend to have an intimate conversation, leave). Below is a compilation of direct quotes and things I learned from my unofficial match-making session with, "the most reputable Latin American love-connector in all of Southern California."

Things she said:

"Now tell me, is your bust size real or enhanced?" (The answer was enhanced)
"This is good. 'Real' does not matter, 'appears to be real' is what matters."

"How many times a week do you drink the alcohol?" (The answer was four) "It's not enough. You need to be having a glass of wine every day with or after your final meal. Wine keeps us smooth and sexy."

"I like camping, but only for one night." (This was Paola's response to Patricia asking her what outdoor activities she enjoys). Patricia: "Ay god no! Do not tell a man you like the camping. Nothing sexy is ever happening in a tent."

"You like to cook?" (The answer was no). "Well we’ll say you do because you need to learn."

"Now, how is your wardrobe? Tell me how much you spend on a dress to go out?" (The answer was $200) "I don't love it, but I'll work with it."

Things she felt were relevant to the interview process:

How much do you weigh?

How much does your mother weigh right now, and how old is she?

Are you willing to date bald men?

Name the styles of Latin dance you have mastered.

Are you fluent in Spanish? (the answer was no) Well are you fluent in dirty talking in Spanish?

How much money do you have saved for retirement?

How many children is too many children for a man to already have?

Talk me through the major points of your last serious relationship?

And then she explained to Paola how the first date organized through her service works: (paraphrased)

Okay, so I'm gonna find you a compatible man but not the most compatible man I have in my group. Then we're gonna get you set up on a date. I'd like to see you in more color. I'd like to see you in higher heels. I'd like to see your hair a shade or two lighter, and we'll talk about make-up, I may send one of my girls to your house. Now, when you go on the date, I'm going to be there with you. I'm going to sit a few tables away - don't worry, no one sees me - and I'm going to have a little ear bud connected to a little microphone in your breasts.

At this point Paola, who's no fool despite her control issues, goes, "So you're wire tapping me?" Girl totally watched The Wire.

Patricia laid it all out there. Yes, if that's what choo want to call it. I need to hear exactly how you are on a first date with a man so I can guide you on the next series of dates we arrange. Make sense?

And then Paola said the thing that people say to Patti once they're fully under her spell. "Yes, makes sense. I'll do anything you tell me to do."

Guys, this happened, before my very eyes, on a Monday night. And I'm telling you, if I was a Latin American woman struggling to find love in this urban, West coast jungle, I'd call Patricia up right away. That woman was like the finest Yenta I've ever heard with the least annoying Yenta voice. I think Paola's going to be just fine.

In defense of the use of pet names

2011-11-03T07:00:00.000-04:00

I'm going to keep this short and sweet because I'm mortified that I'm even writing it in the first place.

I now understand why people use pet names.

For the past 28 years (I'm counting them all because I believe that even as an infant I abhorred their use) I have been adamantly against pet names. I never used one, never had one, never met one whose use I supported.

My position was that pet name are goofy, silly, childish monikers that trivialize one's real name. My belief was that they were one part of a couples' act to make all other people jealous of their obvious love - a verbal PDA, if you will. Nothing about me is a pookie, a lovey, an angel or a pup (yes, I know someone who used that one). My plan was that if a man ever attempted to use one on me, I'd calmly explain that it was unwelcome and unacceptable.

My "P" dealbreaker was and shall forever be "P, Pale" but "P, Pet Namer" was a close, close second.

Today I am the girlfriend of a more-milk-than-olive-toned man who has bestowed upon me a pet name I will not now nor shall I ever print. Know that it is a 5 on silly/childish scale, and that I have given up trying to make him stop.

Part of my surrender is because I - yes I, the girl who swore she'd never be that girl - also have a pet name for him.

I can't really defend this situation with any legitimate rationale. I don't need to call him anything special, his name isn't particularly long, and I'm not of the mushy variety. It's just that when I go to refer to him I don't want to use the same name everybody else uses. I want to say something sweeter and more special. I want to lay some verbal claim!

I never do so in public. I never do so over the phone if other people are in ear shot. And I have yet to adapt the very simple moniker I use into five varieties that all end in "ey."

But I use it, often, and I like it. It makes me feel like I'm in a tween rom com or something, which is funny because that's exactly what I hated about the whole proposition for the past 28 years.

Let the regression continue!

An Open Letter to Everyone Who Is Upset About This Whole Kim Kardashian Divorce Situation

2011-11-02T07:00:00.001-04:00

Guys -

I feel like we need to have a little sit down.

I've noticed by your Facebook posts/Tumblr updates/Tweets that you are pretty peeved at Kim Kardashian for divorce-bombing Chris Humphries a mere 72 days after their fairy tale wedding. You're saying things like, "how dare she!" and, "her career is done," and, "reality TV has gone too far." I even saw a few of those clever memes people are making with really mean things about Kim, things like, "and they think the gays are destroying the sanctity of marriage?"

But, see, here's the thing - Really? REALLY?! You're actually upset? You actually, legitimately feel fooled, duped, and wronged by this latest celeb divorce development?

When Kim and Chris got married on national television in a 20 million dollar affair after less than a year of dating, you really thought it was lasting love? You watched that all go down and thought, "there is no way in a million years that will end quickly and for absolutely no reason."

Or was it that you thought Kim and her E!-sponsored clan would have the decency to A. wait a little longer or B. inform the husband first? Is that why you're so mad?

I think you're forgetting that the only reason this entire family is famous is because of Kim's sex tape? Don't you "Robert Kardashian was a very famous lawyer" me. Kim's sex tape started it all, so I'm not sure we can be shocked and appalled that her D-cup doesn't runneth over with decency.

Yes I know she cost E! $280,000 per day of marriage, and yes, I too think that's an absolutely disgusting waste of money. But you know what else is disgusting? E! spending 20 million on the televised wedding of two fabricated celebrities. Actually, I take that back. Chris Humphries has a legit reason to be famous.

And while we're at it - the show was called Kim's Fairytale Wedding and the rag mag covers read Kim Gets Engaged, Kim's Big Wedding Plans, and Kim Ties the Knot. So for those of you out there shedding a tear for the sweet, innocent professional basketball player who got mixed up in this mess, here's one big REALLY?! for you too.

But back to why I, for one, am glad that E! "wasted" all that money on a 72-day marriage. Maybe they've learned their lesson. Maybe next time they won't spend the cost of launching a charter school (or 5) on something my 89-year-old Poppop could have told you didn't stand a chance. And he doesn't even get E!.

Of course, chances are they have not learned any form of lesson at all because they have not really been harmed. Chances are E! will only benefit from this divorce ordeal because angry, angry people who cannot believe Kim would do such a thing will now tune in to one of her four shows to find out why she did it.

You know...if I were a more cynical person I'd say they planned the entire charade - found the guy, arranged the marriage, orchestrated the wedding, and suggested the hasty divorce.

Outside of the whole E! angle, I'm sensing a lot of what you're feeling is anger at Kim for shoving her rotund buttocks in the face of the sanctity of marriage. What does she think, that this is all some kind of joke? That it's all just make believe?

First of all, yes, that is what she thinks. Second of all, the sanctity of marriage does not apply to TV weddings that cost 20 million dollars. And finally, I'm guessing the "tough talk" Kim had with herself over whether or not to stay married because it was better for Chris/E!/her family/ her fans/man-kind was a short one.

But in the end, my favorite line of all the "can you believe she..." lines I've heard is this: "Can you believe that $%&*! made something like 8 million dollars off her wedding and then bolted!"

Yes. Yes of course I can. Kim Kardashian is the poster girl for Sketchers Shape-ups. You guys, those are HANDS DOWN the UGLIEST piece of footwear invited since the beginning of the invention of footwear. If she can shill those, then she can stay married to a professional basketball player for long enough to collect some significant dough.

So let's all take a deep breath and remember that this doesn't matter, and it is certainly not worth getting worked up over. Kim will live on to make reality TV shows because people will live on to be shocked about Kim Kardashian getting divorced after 72 days of marriage. That is, until someone new releases a sex video that catapults their entire extended family to fame, which someone really should get on, toot sweet.

Fondly,
Jessie

The November SUNDAY NIGHT SEX TALKS show is THIS SUNDAY: Performers Revealed

2011-11-01T13:26:00.011-04:00

(BUY TICKETS HERE!)

Sunday, November 6th at 8pm, five hysterical and talented performers will take the Bar Lubitsch stage for the second installment in my girls-only, R-rated storytelling series. Sorry, but it really is NO BOYS ALLOWED.

The topic: If I could time travel back to one dating/relationship/sex moment I'd go to ______________ to change __________________ .

The format: Free-form storytelling based on the prompt. The show will run 1 hr.

The talent: Five ladies whose combined first initials spells MAJEK (which is what they will make on stage, obvs) and me!

Tickets: (Oooone more time... ) $6 at Brown Paper Tickets

The first show was a huge success, so don't miss out! E-mail me at 20Nothings@gmail.com with questions, comment, talent suggestions and positive RSVPs! Hoping to see many of you on 11/6 (sorry boys...).

Michelle Buteau

Ally Hord

Janie Haddad Tompkins
Emily Maya Mills
Kulap Vilaysack

The 10 Ten Things I Fear Most About My 10 Year High School Reunion

2011-10-31T12:37:00.005-04:00

I wonder if there are people out there who receive their 10-year HS reunion invite and go, "YES! The night I've been waiting for! I am filled with joy and healthy anticipation. I have no fears or anxieties. I am fully confident in all I've done in the past 10 years and can't wait to share it with my nearest and dearest former friends."

I think there's a chance I'm dating a person who falls into that group.

I am, not surprisingly, not among that easy, breezy set. I have fears. I have insecurities. And I have a exactly 25 days to get over it.

Perhaps publishing them on the Internet will help?

10. That I will have forgotten the names of people whose names I should not have forgotten.

9. That people will have forgotten my name because, apparently, it was forgettable.

8. That more than 75% of the people in attendance will be in considerably better shape than I am.

7. That, either, no one will read this blog or know that it exists or that many people will read this blog and hate that it exists.

6. That the passage of time will render people far too comfortable with informing me that I was a an uptight, goody two-shoes.

5. That my New Jersey accent will re-render its unfortunate head...and stick for any amount of time.

4. That someone will bring up the whole "Most Likely To Succeed" thing in the context of, "guess that prediction was a little off."

3. That people will respond to my saying, "I am a writer," with, "please list all the titles of the writing have you sold."

2. That every single one of the people I had crushes on throughout my four high school years will be happily married.

1. That I will drunk confess my former love for each and every one of them.

Stay-tuned for my post-game coverage. And in the meantime, please share your own reunion worst fears in comments.

Pride vs. Progress: why you should just tell him how much you like him already

2011-10-26T07:00:00.000-04:00

(This blog post may-or-may-not have been inspired by a "Dear Abby" I read in the Teen Vogue I may-or-may-not subscribe to...)

I used to do the whole "keep-your-real-feelings-for-the-guy-a-secret" thing.

In the early stages of dating, I'd walking on egg shells about my desire to see him three times a week and talk to him every day in between. If things got a little more serious, I'd keep the "girlfriend" behavior in check. I wouldn't leave things at his place. I wouldn't assume I could stay over without asking. I wouldn't assume I was invited to events he'd mention. When things progressed beyond "a month or two in," I'd be sure to keep the future-talk to a minimum - no "my friend is getting married in six months" or "what are your plans for Thanksgiving?"

I think all of this was done in an attempt to avoid getting hurt. I think I thought that If I didn't like him more than he liked me, I would avoid heartbreak slash embarrassment. I think my goal was to prove that I wasn't some crazy, desperate, serious girl looking to lock this guy down. We were keeping it casual. I was fine with him, fine without. I was the guy who was incredibly easy to date.

Man was that a waste of time.

I think it's because I'm older. Maybe it's also because being in a relationship made me a bit wiser? Maybe it's because I've seen way too many people get burned by the very antics I ascribed to in my years being "cool?"

Whatever the reasons, I'd kill to go back and smack some sense into that oh-so-casual self. Post-smacking, here is what I would tell her:

If you want to be in a real relationship, own it. It doesn't matter if you're 22, 24, 28 or 30. Admit you're looking for a stable, loving, committed relationship and accept nothing less.

The sooner you give him an indication of where you'd like this dating arrangement to go, the sooner he'll give you one back. If they match, great, congrats! If they don't, END IT. Dating someone who doesn't want it to go anywhere real with you is a really strange set-up.

The ability to be openly loving to someone and have that affection returned is among the biggest benefits of dating. If you're not doing it for any number of reasons relating to a fear of scaring a guy off, reconsider. If affection scares him, have a talk. If affection still scares him after that talk, have a break-up talk and then a giant cocktail.

There is "being a clingy/needy/demanding" new girlfriend and there is developing fair expectations around a growing relationship. Decide what you're looking for, and if the dude can't/won't/doesn't meet you around/about there, move on. If I could tell my 22-year-old self one thing it would be that being alone is less lonely than being in a relationship with someone who doesn't do "relationship" like you need it done.

Now, how to get this blog post in front of that Teen Vogue reader...

Relationship advice from yet another dentist

2011-10-24T07:00:00.000-04:00

Three years ago I went to the dentist in NYC and got completely unsolicited relationship advice that I posted here on this blog.

Last week it happened again. Different city. Different dentist. Same barrage of advice on dating, relationships, marriage and children that I by no means requested. This time Dr. West Coast peppered in some general thoughts on both pop culture, history and philosophy.

Sos not to deny this bizarre occurrence its very own blog post, here goes.

LIFE ADVICE FROM MY DENTIST: part two

"Do not marry a man who is younger than 31-32...maybe 30 if he seems like he's got his noggin' on straight and his zipper zipped up."

"If the guy you're with hasn't succeeded in his business by the time he's 30, he never will. I'm telling you. It's a fact."

"People who get married in their early 20's have a real, real hard time making it. They just do. Plain and simple."

"You wanna be real careful about being with a guy who makes less money than you - as a woman. If the man makes more money than the woman it becomes a giant mess. Equal pay, fine. Less, disaster. Really creates resentment, which - you know - deeply affects things in the bedroom."

"You're probably going to want to convert to Judaism so your kids don't end up screwed up. I mean, I should say, do want you want religion-wise - I don't care if they're Buddhist - but make sure you present a unified front to the kids, religion-wise. They need that."

"You know Thomas Jefferson was an atheist?"

"If you're gonna get re-married make sure the guy isn't too close to his kids, if he has any from a previous marriage. That'll really screw things up."

"I don't know much, but I'll tell you one thing I know for sure - that Marcus Bauchmann is gay as hell."

"Whatta ya think - should I throw the dental gig away and get into that Dr. Phil work? Huh?" (pinches cheeks)

Those are the direct quotes I remember clear as day. There were also some comments on the dangers of fundamentalist Christians, how hard it is to believe in God after a tragedy and what happens if you have kids before you're married (note: nothing good).

Apparently somewhere inside my mouth there's a tattoo that reads, "please provide me with tons of inappropriate and judgmental advice while you have my ability to respond in your hands, literally." That or I have the absolute worst taste in dentists...albeit consistent.

How To Move To Los Angeles: there are two kinds of people in this city

2011-10-21T07:00:00.001-04:00

The series continues with a look at the two very distinct sets of creatures that inhabit this specific corner of the world.

Based on my observations there are two kinds of people who live in L.A.: "real people" and "not people."

"Real people" are those who, if you took them out of L.A. and plopped them down in any other city in the US, would function just the same (albeit likely frustrated by the lack of avocados on restaurant menus). Upon meeting them their new neighbors would say, "that's a real person."

"Not people" are those who, if you did the same, would not be able to function as human beings in this non-L.A. environment. Upon hearing rumor of these people (they likely won't fraternize with the locals) their new neighbors would say, "what the $@#&*! is wrong with those people??"

Allow me to attempt to explain.

"Real people" have real jobs, real lives, real families and real friends. They go about their day attending to the tasks necessary to make their lives continue to go 'round. They behave in a manner befitting of the tasks they need to complete. They perceive the world around them as it actually exists. They take care of themselves (their bodies, their minds, their souls) in a manner similar to 99% of the world's humans. In short - they move with the general flow of the traffic of life.

Yes "real people" may have crazy/interesting/bizarre/only-in-L.A. jobs. They might be somewhat reclusive writers, insanely loud comedians, fairly eccentric directors or make-up artists with arm sleeve tattoos, dozens of piercings and bright, pink hair. They might be macrobiotic-exclusive vegans. It's not about what they do, it's about who they are.

Which is why they would fare well enough in any other city. People might find them strange, artsy or concernedly prone to testing out fad diets, but they'll get along well enough.

Not the case for "not people." To best illustrate what makes this set so far from real humans and thus so completely unable to function outside of this Mothership, I'll describe a few manners in which they successfully operate here in Los Angeles. All of these examples are rooted in reality.

A not person might request that all materials he reads be typed using one specific typewriter and one specific type of paper. No e-mail on a computer, no scripts on an iPad, no books in paperback, no newspapers on news paper. Every single thing he reads must be re-typed by an assistant hired to re-type everything single thing he wants to read using the specific typewriter and paper of his preference. Because, see, in any other city no one in their right mind would actually take that assistant gig.

A not person might eat only raw foods everywhere they go. At home they are exclusively prepared by a personal chef, but when dining out their assistant simply calls the restaurant of their choice ahead-of-time and explains your specific dietary request. Because, see, in most other cities in this country the restaurant would say, $%&*! off.

A not person might yell and scream profanities at the top of their lungs to employees, their boss, their clients, and/or anyone else their might do business with as a means to get their point across. Additional scare-tactics may also be employed to drive the point home. See above, add: you'd get fired because there would be an HR department...that did something.

A not person might not shower, not leave the house, not speak to a specific list of people they don't care to speak to, not write the script/edit the movie/produce the show their agents have been promising they will finish for the past six months and STILL being considered a genius whose work is coveted by many, many people. Same but: you'd be homeless.

And so you see a few of the ways in which Los Angeles enables not people to be people can be successful humans where elsewhere they would be rendered unemployed social outcasts with no restaurants to turn to.

Sometimes I think some of the "not people" could survive just as well in Manhattan (a place that has its own unique set of "reals" and "nots"), but then I remember that it gets colder than 60 degrees there and sometimes you have to climb stairs.

Advice for Occupy Wall Street: make love + equality

2011-10-19T07:00:00.003-04:00

I know that this is not cool to say.

I know that the Occupy Wall Street (et al) movement is a serious thing rooted in a real issue facing our country and so many others. I really do believe in the movement, the gravity of the issue at hand and the powerful manner in which the protesters have decided to go about their campaign.

Honestly if I knew how to get to wherever Occupy L.A. is happening I'd go down there with some packets of Emergen-C to show my support.

Which is why I feel bad writing a blog post about the fact that these Occupy Wall Street people (and their counter parts around the world) better be making some love connections.

Listen, times are tough. It's not so easy to find a group of like-minded and like-committed people without the use of an Internet aid. And even so, how much time do you have with those people once you meet? 15 minutes at a bar? An hour at an industry event? Maybe a weekend if you meet at the wedding of a friend that only invited people who all meet a very specific set of personality and life-goal qualifications?

This Occupy Wall Street situation is like mining for relationship gold in an actual gold quarry.

You've got people so like-minded that they've committed to living in parks and communicating through a "human megaphone." You've got a fairly consistent age range and, even where there isn't, people open-minded enough to not care. Most people there are either unemployed or not particularly into employment meaning you don't have to worry about who's going to pick up the check slash get annoyed with someone's dead-end career. Everyone has got to be equally smelly at this point. And, the most important point of all, no one is leaving!

It's like Summer camp but everyone's a liberal adult and none of the counselors care what you do. Hhmm...so it's like drama camp but everyone's an adult!

No...you know what it's really like - the Olympic Village. Did you know that during an Olympic games the athletes' village is like once giant orgy? Long distance runners hook up with soft ball players. Gymnasts hook up with divers. Long jumpers hook up with cyclists. And the swimmers all hook up with each other because they're the best looking, and they know it. (I went Summer in honor of the upcoming games).

And see just like Occupy Wall Street, it works because they're all intense, committed athletes. They all share the same passions for their individual sport. They all believe in winning for their country (read: themselves). And just like the denizens of Zuccotti Park - they're all jammed together in one, contained space!

I think it's only fair for the people of this protest to spend a little time attending to their own needs during their time of selflessness. After all, what could be more beautiful (or efficient) than finding love in this time of frustration and activism?

...And, frankly, how else are we going to fill the commemorative TIME magazine issue on the Occupy Wall Street events of 2011 than with a photo gallery of Occupy Wall Street weddings and babies?

p.s. please note and commend the fact that I got through this entire post without making the painfully obvious "occupy each other" joke. It took a lot.

Hey Occupiers: if you have a story of love found in the protesting fray, post it here in comments! Or Tweet it to me @20Nothings #OccupyLove

There are really only 6.5 ways to meet someone (to date)

2011-10-17T07:00:00.001-04:00

There's been a lot of where-have-all-the-good-people-to-date-gone? talk around and about me as of late. Frankly I'm not sure where they are now, and I'm not sure I knew where they were before. What I do know is that people will drive themselves up a wall trying to figure out what they should be doing differently to find them. I know this because I was people.

Go out more? Go out less? Wear more skirts? Wear less skirts? Stop looking? Look harder? The sheer volume of X factors involved in the search are enough to make people stay in their miserable no-strings-attached situations. Until now...

I've got good news and bad news, and I'm giving you the bad news first because that's how it's done.

BN: there is no answer to the question of "what exact thing will work?" to meet someone great.

GN: there is an answer to how many things you can do and, therefore, when you can stop wondering if there are more things you should be going and give yourself a break.

Here, as far as I'm concerned, is that definitive list of things you can do to meet someone.

You can do online dating.

It may be slow. It may be weird. It may not result in A+ candidates. 75% of your responses may end up being from Indian men over the age of 35 (or was that just me?). But if you commit to online dating you will go on dates. I have done Match.com and Chemistry.com, both of which resulted in dates. I can recommend OKCupid.com and Eharmony.com based on friends' experiences. Bottom line: if you build it, and it is a profile on any one or combo of sites, they will come (you just might have to e-mail them first).

You can tell everyone you know that you're looking to be set up (yes, this includes your Mom).

This is the "job search" approach. If you were unemployed and desperately seeking employment you wouldn't keep that a secret from everyone in your immediate and secondary networks. Same goes here. Tell people. Tell them in direct and somewhat awkward e-mails. Tell them over drinks. Tell them on gchat. (I didn't have the patience to "Green Eggs and Ham" this section, but I thought about it). I know it's somewhat embarrassing. I know it opens up a lot of cans of worms (see Date It Forward for reference). But an insanely high percentage of relationship begin through a set up (case in point mine), and it's considerably harder to get set up if people don't know you're looking.

You can expand your social network by joining something.

Kickball. Volunteer organization. Cheese aficionados club. Occupy ______. Whatever it is make it something outside your current circle of people. This is by no means a surefire path, but expanding the number of people you know and associate with expands the number of people you might be able to date.

I met one former boyfriend when I started hanging out with my good friend Abby's co-workers. I met another when I joined a theater organization. Both of these boyfriends were imaginary because I have never, ever dated or liked anyone but you, R, but point is: if you find yourself saying, "I only ever see the same 20 people!!" it may be because you only ever see the same 20 people. Note: alumni groups are a really good idea.

You can get famous, somehow.

The better known you are, the more likely you are to find yourself in the incoming calls business when it comes to dating. So if you're really exploring every strategy possible then you do have to consider the benefits of making yourself a more "public figure." You can do that by literally making yourself a public figure (every town needs a council!) or by getting creative about gaining exposure (start a blog, start a youtube channel, start performing improv). You can also do this "lite" by starting to throw a regular happy hour among a large network of friends or organizing a big party. Bottom line, you want to be the person that people point to when someone says, "who organized this awesome thing."

And yes, this concept is derived totally and entirely out of the fact that I live in L.A., but I did promise you a list of everything you can do to meet someone.

You can go back to school.

Business school. Law school. Culinary school. Some adult education classes in screenwriting. This is like "you can join something" except you'll have to be accepted to and pay for it. See above rationale for why it works.

You can go out a LOT and introduce yourself to people you find attractive.

And unfortunately a once-a-month "girls night out" is not a lot. Randomly meeting people is more of a numbers game than any of the examples above, and just being at a bar/club/event is not enough. You have to be willing to actually go up and talk to people you meet. In my opinion this is harder than all the other options combined, but it is an option fair and square, so it is included. I have only ever met two (imaginary) people at bars, but in fairness I never truly made a point of going to bars with the goal of meeting people.

Honorable mention: you can get a dog.

I have never tested this theory, but I am told that if you have a dog of reasonable cuteness people are inclined to randomly talk to you. I would pay top Monopoly dollar for an expose on this, so please let me know if you're willing to play guinea pig.

I think that's it, but please let me have it in comments if I've made any glaring omissions. And, most importantly, please don't look at this post as a depressing list of the far-too-few things you can do to find live in your life. A. there's a pretty solid amount of action you can take. And B. now you finally know when to stop and say, "ok, I did everything I could. Now it'll happen when it happens."

Word to the Wise: Think twice about where you arrange for the parents to meet the parents...

2011-10-14T07:00:00.000-04:00

No, not me (yet...), but please enjoy this story from my great friend John who recently went through this whole ordeal in a shall-we-say "magical" manor...

Jessie and I were emailing back and forth about my recent trip to Florida and I said: “You know where is NOT a very good place for your parents to meet your significant other’s parents for the first time? Walt Disney World. I should write about it on your blog.”

And that’s how it started. Seconds later I emailed back and said: “Actually can I try and write it up? I think it would be fun.” Jessie was hesitant at first. She isn’t going to turn the reigns over to just anyone. So I bought her this $5 a Day Bank I saw in Sky mall, and that’s how I end up on your computer today. (If you don’t get why she’d like this, can I point your browser here… AFTER you read this post of course!)

So for the last two years I’ve been dating Jessie’s roommate Mike… err… M. (I always like how Jessie refers to “R” in her entries. So my boyfriend will now go by M. It’s very Judi Dench in James Bond…) So when M and I decided to run the Epcot Wine and Dine Half Marathon together and both of our parents announced they’d be coming down to cheer us on we realized one of the watershed moments in our relationship would soon be upon us…

THE PARENTS ARE MEETING EACH OTHER!

This seemed like a big deal to me. Sure I had met his family and he had met mine, so the two families meeting each other felt like the last piece of the puzzle finally falling into place. M was more reserved: “So they’ll meet each other. It’s not a big deal.”

Now I don’t know how this Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah moment usually happens in relationships, but my guess is it doesn’t usually happen while literally listening to Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah and I wanted our moment to be perfect.

In some ways, Walt Disney World seemed a perfectly natural first meeting ground -- it is the happiest place on earth, after all. What nobody remembers when they look back at their vacation photos is just how huge Walt Disney World is and just how hot Florida can get.

Making matters worse, just before her trip down my mother ruptured a disc in her neck which meant she’d have to skip Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and settle for the wild ride she’d get by taking a Disney bus after popping 2 Vicodin.

So before I tell you how our parents’ meeting went, let me just lay out my two main points in more detail:

Walt Disney World is HUGE – This becomes an issue in two ways. First, if have trouble walking for long periods of time (which, with a ruptured disc, trust me, you would) it will hold your group up. Even if everyone says: “Of course we don’t mind stopping to sit down every 15 feet!” Don’t believe them. They mind.

Size also means that there is a lot to do. So my parents might want to rest by the pool while M’s parents want to ride Space Mountain. Or vice versa. You can’t move as a big group and please everyone.

Florida can be HOT – This is an issue for everyone – not just people who are heavy sweaters. First impressions count for a lot and it’s hard to create the perfect one when you’re melting like the Wicked Witch of the West.

This is also an issue for me in particular because my stepfather sweats. A lot. I’d use the whole “he sweats like a whore in church” joke but I think a whore in church would be put off by the pool of sweat that follows him. Think of that swirl of dust around Pig-Pen in PEANUTS. If that was sweat (and Pig-Pen had less hair), he’d be my stepfather.

So as the moment of their initial meeting drew closer my anxiety rose. What stories from my youth would my mother – high on painkillers and exhausted from an early flight – drop? Didn’t she know the old saying: “Loose lips sink (relation)ships”? Or even worse, would M’s parents slip and fall in the pool of sweat trailing my stepfather?

This could be cataclysmic. But it wasn’t.

Like most things I worry about, it all ended up fine. We had lunch inside an air-conditioned restaurant (curbing the sweat problem) and my mom, it turns out, handles painkillers better than Liza Minnelli. (Her lunchtime rendition of “Cabaret” should have won her a Tony and Oscar, too!)

[Side Note: For those keeping score at home, that’s a Wizard of Oz , Dame Judi Dench and Liza Minnelli reference all in one post. How did it take my parents 18 years to figure out I was gay?]

I’ve come to realize that the only “pressure” on this meeting going well came from me.

And, looking back, that’s just silly. Both my parents and M’s parents know how much we love each other. (M just threw up reading that… he even hates written PDA!) Everyone wanted the meeting to go well and guess what? It did.

Yes, there were awkward silences. Yes, I had heard some of my stepfather’s jokes before. But we all left the weekend wishing we could have spent more time together – which I think qualifies it as an unabashed success.

Before we headed down to Florida I told M I was nervous about our parents meeting and he told me to not waste time worrying about it. He assured me that it’d be a great weekend. Now I don’t usually say this so I hope Mike.. errr, M… enjoys it now:

You were right.

Some thoughts on a new article about how people are more single than they've ever been

2011-10-12T11:04:00.002-04:00

Every so often someone (but usually The Atlantic) features a massive article about the state of dating, relationships and marriage. A few years ago it was that now famous piece about settling (Marry Him! The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough). Today they've shifted the pendulum to the opposite side with a piece from Kate Bolick called All The Single Ladies.

This one is essentially about the fact that we've never been so single as Americans. More people are opting against marriage. More people are adopting children without a partner. And those who are choosing to be in a committed relationship are redefining what that looks like.

I never know what to think about these articles. I read them - all - and in OCD-style detail (there's a highlighter involved) combing the stats and stories for some kind of thesis statement I can get behind. Something like, "being single until your 30s leads to a significantly happier marriage." Or, "adopting a child alone will render you miserable; just settle for a 75% good-enough guy." Or even, all of this talk of independence is great now, but ask any 80-year-old woman and she'll tell you a life-long partner makes for the richest life."

I know these writers aren't looking to make grandiose statements. I know many of them don't have the answers themselves. This Single Ladies article is written by a woman who left a man she had thought she'd marry because something just didn't feel right. To this day they are the best of friends despite him marrying another woman. If anyone is qualified to question this whole issue, it's her.

So today instead of agreeing or disagreeing with Bolick's piece I thought it would be safer to highlight the most interesting parts (to me) and explain why I find them so interesting. This way it's like we're reading the article together while I discussing all my highlighted thoughts in detail! (no, it's not easy to date me).

Here we go:

"Bolick says, "Do I want children? My answer is: I don’t know. But somewhere along the way, I decided to not let my biology dictate my romantic life. If I find someone I really like being with, and if he and I decide we want a child together, and it’s too late for me to conceive naturally, I’ll consider whatever technological aid is currently available, or adopt (and if he’s not open to adoption, he’s not the kind of man I want to be with)."

At some point in our late 20s we all come to the realization that the biological clock is a known and the ability to meet the right person to have children with is an unknown. It's a terrifying realization (that is, if you want children and to marry a person you truly love) and one that deeply affects our frame of dating from, oh, 28 on. Someone should write a whole article about that.

"If, in all sectors of society, women are on the ascent, and if gender parity is actually within reach, this means that a marriage regime based on men’s overwhelming economic dominance may be passing into extinction."

If by "economic dominance" we mean "superior stability to women" then I couldn't agree more. I don't have one girlfriend who is twiddling her thumbs while she waits to marry for money. Now, if it came down to a struggling comedian who is a 10 versus a stable professor who is a 7, which would most women choose? I don't know. I think my friends would choose the comedian, but I do live in L.A.

"America as a whole currently enjoys a healthy population ratio of 50.8 percent females and 49.2 percent males. But our shrinking pool of traditionally “marriageable” men is dramatically changing our social landscape, and producing startling dynamics in the marriage market, in ways that aren’t immediately apparent."

But wait - if "traditionally marriageable" men (who are now disappearing) were economically dominant then doesn't that just open the door for women to be more dominant, and isn't that a good thing? We have the men, they're just a different breed leaving women more - for lack of a better word - in charge. Why is that bad? Because women actually want traditionally marriageable men despite it all?

"One might hope that in low-sex-ratio societies—where women outnumber men—women would have the social and sexual advantage. (After all, didn’t the mythical all-female nation of Amazons capture men and keep them as their sex slaves?) But that’s not what happens: instead, when confronted with a surplus of women, men become promiscuous and unwilling to commit to a monogamous relationship. (Which, I suppose, might explain the Amazons’ need to keep men in slave quarters.) In societies with too many women, the theory holds, fewer people marry, and those who do marry do so later in life. Because men take advantage of the variety of potential partners available to them, women’s traditional roles are not valued, and because these women can’t rely on their partners to stick around, more turn to extrafamilial ambitions like education and career."

Oh. That sucks.

"I kid! And yet, as a woman who spent her early 30s actively putting off marriage, I have had ample time to investigate, if you will, the prevailing attitudes of the high-status American urban male. (Granted, given my taste for brainy, creatively ambitious men—or “scrawny nerds,” as a high-school friend describes them—my sample is skewed.) My spotty anecdotal findings have revealed that, yes, in many cases, the more successful a man is (or thinks he is), the less interested he is in commitment."

Ugh, that definitely rings true in my book too. But wait, there is some hope -

"Indeed, another of my anecdotal-research discoveries is of what an ex calls “marriage o’clock”—when a man hits 35 and suddenly, desperately, wants a wife. I’ll never forget the post-first-date e-mail message reading: “I wanted to marry you last night, just listening to you.” Nor the 40-ish journalist who, on our second date, driving down a long country road, gripped the steering wheel and asked, “Are you The One? Are you The One?” (Can you imagine a woman getting away with this kind of behavior?)"

It does feel like there's a shelf-life on a male's desire to be a bachelor, and that its expiration date is somewhere around 32.

The article goes on and one for three more pages, but I'll leave it at this final observation and encourage you to read on your own and comment.

"When I embarked on my own sojourn as a single woman in New York City—talk about a timeworn cliché!—it wasn’t dating I was after. I was seeking something more vague and, in my mind, more noble, having to do with finding my own way, and independence. And I found all that. Early on, I sometimes ached, watching so many friends pair off—and without a doubt there has been loneliness. At times I’ve envied my married friends for being able to rely on a spouse to help make difficult decisions, or even just to carry the bills for a couple of months. And yet I’m perhaps inordinately proud that I’ve never depended on anyone to pay my way (today that strikes me as a quaint achievement, but there you have it). Once, when my father consoled me, with the best of intentions, for being so unlucky in love, I bristled. I’d gotten to know so many interesting men, and experienced so much. Wasn’t that a form of luck?

All of which is to say that the single woman is very rarely seen for who she is—whatever that might be—by others, or even by the single woman herself, so thoroughly do most of us internalize the stigmas that surround our status."

How To Move To Los Angeles: Regarding Road Rage

2011-10-10T07:00:00.000-04:00

Now that I've lived in L.A. for 1+ years I feel wise enough to switch my "L.A. ____ Month's In" series to a regular "How To Move To Los Angeles" feature. The main difference will be a title, but if I've learned one thing in my 1+ years in this city it's that you can never underestimate the importance of a title (cough-BitchinApartment23-cough).

And so we begin. New series, new title, same over-dramatic stories about life in the land that aging forgot.

Notes on Road Rage

Hi. My name is Jessie and I have road rage.

It took me a little over six months to finally come to terms with the truth. For the longest time I thought everyone wanted to ram their car into the cars front, left, right and back of them in a fit of overwhelming frustration at how slow traffic could possible move at 6pm on a Thursday. Turns out some people in this city have learned to "accept" the traffic. I am not one of them.

I will confess that I feared my reaction to the traffic long before I followed in Fivel's footsteps. When people would ask what I was nervous about in L.A. I'd say becoming so consumed with my career that I live for nothing else; not knowing when it's time to pack up and admit I've failed, and the traffic. Given that line-up who could have predicted that I'd shed more tears on item number three than either of the others?

They told me I'd get used to it after a few months. They told me I'd developed special routes to avoid the worst of the grid lock. They told me it's sometimes nice to have long patches of alone time during both legs of your commute and en route to any lunches or mid-day errands.

They were wrong.

I pride myself on being a person who adapts well to change. In the 7th grade when my entire hair went from poker straight to Lisa Turtle curly, I didn't cry myself to sleep every night of the week. When I recently learned the best and therefore my favorite New Kid (John Knight, duh) is a gay man, I didn't question my entire childhood plus most of my teens and twenties. I welcome change. That's why you'll find me at the Forever21 at least once-a-month stocking up on the very latest trends for the very lowest prices (quantity over quality my friends!).

But it is where you'll find me minutes before I enter the F21 - namely the public parking garage on 4th Street between Broadway and Santa Monica - which proves there are some categories of change that I cannot overcome. For it is in that parking lot where the cars crawl like hardened honey out the bear-shaped tube that I broke the road-rage seal. See, in Los Angeles you have to take a ticket when you enter the parking garage and then pay that ticket at a ticket paying machine before you exit. Some garages let you pay for the parking at the exit gate, but some do not. And do you know what happens if you do not pay for your parking at the ticket paying machine when that is the only payment option? AALLLL the cars behind you in line have to WAIT for your INCONSIDERATE rear-end while you get the man inside the parking garage building to come bail you out. AND DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THAT CAN TAKE?!

I yelled. I yelled and screamed and honked my horn and shook my finger in a fit of powerless rage at the white BMW convertible-driving vixen who held me up at the 3rd Street promenade parking lot for 18.5 minutes. And I have never been the same. It was like some Hulk inside of me was released that afternoon.

6+ months later I've tried everything to control myself from screaming ridiculously unproductive things out my closed car windows at people who can barely see me. "NICE BLINKER!" I cry. "MAKE THE TURN!!" I scream. "SO HELP ME GOD IF YOU DO NOT GUN IT WHEN THAT GREEN ARROW TURNS ON!!!" I warn. And then if those road fools do not comply I speed by them and stink-eye glance in their general direction so they know what they've done.

I'm getting help. R has me on a cocktail of NPR shows and calming podcasts. He encourages me to call him when it's really bad, but I'm too concerned he'll break up with me if he experiences me in Hulk-mode.

And so I think the most logical solution is a bit of L.A. driving wisdom a family friend gave me a few months ago. "I drive 8 miles of out my way to get to and from work just to avoid the traffic," he said, "takes me ten extra minutes, but I have yet to kill a fellow driver and I still have all my hair."

Thank god it's sunny every single day.

I think the What's Your Number? haters are missing an important point

2011-10-06T07:00:00.000-04:00

A lot of people have a real problem with the new Anna Faris movie WHAT'S YOUR NUMBER?.

Quick movie synopsis so this blog post makes sense:

Anna Faris plays a single woman named Ally Darling who is searching for love.

Ally Darling reads an article in a magazine which says that women who sleep with an excess of 20 men significantly decrease their changes of getting married.

Ally Darling has slept with exactly 19 men.

And so Ally gets back in touch with all 19 men she's slept with an in effort to make it work with one of them so that she'll never hit the dreaded 20-notches-on-the-bedpost mark.

I don't know what ends up happening because I didn't see the movie, but I'm going to bet she ends up with the adorable Colin (Chris Evans) who elects to help her on her mission, because I've seen a romantic comedy or hundred in my day.

Now back to the fact that people do not like this movie. They find it offensive, they find it archaic, they find it a waste of Faris' comedic talent.

At the root of this criticism is the movie's suggestion that a woman's sex number should matter at all. How could it possibly be that in 2011 we're still chiding women for entering the double digits and congratulating men who do the same?, the movie's critics ask. And, more importantly, who says that number - or any number - makes the character of Ally a slut? Valid questions given the sexual equality both genders seem to share today.

Some critics question whether or not the movie is a mirror of the real world or an exaggerated tale of less sexually liberated times. Do women really still care about their sex number? Is there really such a thing as a slut? Do women really believe any of that matters to men? And...does it?

I can only speak for my corner of the 21st century female world, but the women I've talked to about this subject both in response to the film and over the year I've been writing this blog say yes, it does matter. I've covered this in a few posts over the years, first in "Reclaiming the Word Slut" and then again in a piece on "Whether or Not to Share Your Sex Number with Your Significant Other". From those pieces and some additional research, here are the top reasons why their sex number matters to most women:

Sex is a deeply personal act to many women that they only want to engage in with select people. To this group the number isn't just a number but a memory of a person and an experience that they aren't comfortable collecting en mass.

Women are afraid that if their number is too high men will think they are sluts and not want to date them. We'll get into this more in a bit.

Women are afraid that if their number is too high other women will think they are sluts and judge them.

Women are concerned for their physical and sexual safety and would prefer to avoid potentially endangering either by simply not engaging in casual sex.

But I don't think that's the most interesting or most important question we should be asking in response to this whole What's Your Number? debate. To me the more interesting angle is the male perspective. Do men really care what your number is? And the most important question of all, why do they care, if in fact they do?

Call me a Comm. major, but maybe if we explore why men care we could open a dialogue about why they should or shouldn't and how we as women do/don't feel/behave response?

I have spoken to zero men about this, but here are a few starter ideas:

Men don't want to envision their girl with any other guys, let alone a high number of other guys. Therefore the lower the sex number the fewer men they have to imagine sleeping with their one-and-only. This issue is rooted in insecurity and competitiveness. Also, I feel the same way.

Men fear that a woman who's slept with a lot of men might value sex more than she values commitment. In other words, girls who "sleep around" are more likely to cheat on you. Again, insecurity but with a layer of a lack of understanding about how women feel about the sex they're having. Yes, some may have a "sex addiction" that could lead to infidelity. Others may simple be comfortable with casual sex as single women but fully committed to one partner once in a relationship.

Men think a girl who has slept with X number of guys (X being a number they deem high) is dirty - as in, she may have a sexually transmitted disease and/or she doesn't value her body/self/health/safety enough.

Men fear that if their girlfriend has slept with more people than they have that she'll view herself as more experienced or actually BE more experienced giving them a disadvantage in bed.

Like the above, but with a tweak: men fear that if their girlfriend has slept with more people than they have that she'll view them as less of a man. The "what's wrong with him?" perspective.

These are my guesses. Are any of them true, guys? And, of those that are true, what can they teach us about the sex numbers judgment game? Romantic comedy aside, it seems a lot of this whole situation revolves around insecurity. Is that something that can be solved with progress and communication? Or will guys always judge a girl whose number climbs into the double digits?

Regarding this whole "interns sue Fox Searchlight" situation

2011-10-04T09:00:00.000-04:00

Have you heard about this whole "interns sue Fox Searchlight" situation? It's a really interesting story.

The basics are that two men - one Alex Footman (a 2009 Weslyan Grad who interned as a production PA) and one Eric Glatt (a 42-year-old with an MBA who interned in the film's accounting department) - are now suing Fox Searchlight with hopes of securing a class action law suit for their violation of labor laws with the use of unpaid workers on the film BLACK SWAN.

From The New York Times article on this whole ordeal: "The lawsuit, filed in federal court in Manhattan, claims that Fox Searchlight Pictures, the producer of “Black Swan,” had the interns do menial work that should have been done by paid employees and did not provide them with the type of educational experience that labor rules require in order to exempt employers from paying interns."

And to quote the law suit itself: “Fox Searchlight’s unpaid interns are a crucial labor force on its productions, functioning as production assistants and bookkeepers and performing secretarial and janitorial work. In misclassifying many of its workers as unpaid interns, Fox Searchlight has denied them the benefits that the law affords to employees.”

Interesting, right? And what's more interesting is that there's apparently been a backlash from college students and current interns who are frustrated that someone is raising this whole issue so publicly. Their opinion: leave it alone or we're all going to suffer because companies will stop offering internships, and then we'll never get our feet in the Hollywood door.

I listened to a radio interview with Eric Glatt (one of the plaintiffs) this morning on my drive to work. He made his case in three key points:

It is technically against the labor laws of the state of California to offer an unpaid internship that does not meet the standards outlined in the specific laws governing that kind of work relationship. I will admit that I did not know that and do not know those laws now, but here is a link where you and I can learn more.

Films, production companies and other Hollywood entities (and for that matter many industry outside LaLa Land) will not stop offering internships if they have to pay interns. As Glatt said in his interview, "they need someone to do the work." His point is that these interns are performing tasks that are critical to the final product of the given production or company. Their positions cannot be eliminated; they are literally making it possible for - in this case - the film to be completed, therefore they are directly contributing to the 300 million dollar profit made by BLACK SWAN. Given this struggling economy and the current unemployment rates, Glatt said, that is criminal.

Unpaid internships - specifically those in the entertainment industry - block hundreds of thousands of people young and old from access to the industry because they cannot afford to work for free. This point hits home for me because I was in that exact situation after graduating from college. I had student loan debt, I had zero dollars in my bank account, and I didn't have the luxury of living off my parents' dime. I had a strong desire to work in many areas of the media and entertainment world, but I simply could not afford to work for free. And so I took a job that did pay me and worked my way into this world through different channels. It took me a much, much longer time than it does many college grads who are supported by their parents until they land a paying job. So in Glatt's opinion, if more companies offered paid internships a more diverse group of people would have a chance to work in this industry.

So what do you think?

Should interns suck it up and do the free work because everyone has to pay their dues? Should labor laws be more specific about what counts as intern work and what doesn't? And will this make entry-level Hollywood jobs fewer and further between as studios and production companies cheap out on workers? This specific law suit is seeking class-action status for what the plaintiffs claim are over 100 unpaid interns on various Fox Searchlight productions. Would Fox really turn those 100 free workers into paid jobs or will they just make 50 people (or less...) do 100% of the work? And if so will it become even harder than it is now to get your foot in the TV and film industry door?

My Secret Single Behavior

2011-09-30T07:00:00.000-04:00

In addition to people in my peer group getting engaged like it's going out of style, they're also "moving in" like there's no tomorrow.

Spoiler Alert: I may or may not be among those numbers within the coming year. Let's leave it at ... I've allowed the discussion to to be left on the table.

This is exciting. This is meaningful. This is a development in line with the rest of the developments in my late 20's life. And this is - of course - terrifying.

Brace for cliche, but instead of confronting the very real questions and fears that are a part of any sizable life transition, I just keep thinking, "when will I eat stacks of saltines standing up in my underwear while reading fashion magazines?"

Yes, that's a Sex & The City reference. It's from the episode where Carrie et al acknowledge that you grow to miss your secret single behaviors the further you get from actually being single. Carrie shares her's (skivvy glossy binges) and Miranda does the same (if I recall correctly it's watching a British soap opera while wearing deep moisturizing gloves).

It's not the fact that you cannot engage in these acts with a man in the house, it's just that it's not the same. He might thing you're crazy (which you might be). He might think you're wasting your time (which you probably are). Or - even worse - he might want to join you (and then when you say no he'll absolutely think you're a jerk). And while these are by no means habits that are significant to our personhood, there's something special about them that we long for with the prospect they might be gone.

And so, in an act of self-help/therapy I thought I'd purge my own secret single behaviors here. Deep breath. Sorry R.

I like to make outfits out of the clothes in my closet and then write down the pieces of the ensemble so I can get dressed faster in the morning.

Sometimes, I put on the songs from my old dance recital performances to see if I can remember the routines. My favorite is Real McCoy "Another Night" because it has an awesome Roger Rabbit sequence.

I will watch any E! True Hollywood Story that I find on and will cry at least once during the show for no good reason. It typically happens when the movie star (or Bethanny Frankle) comes back from their depths of despair to find love/win an academy award/adopt an African child.

If there's random left-over cheese in the fridge I will go back and forth to the fridge cutting little squares to eat until the entire chunk is gone. Yes, it makes sense to just cut up the cheese and eat it as a snack, but I prefer to make multiple visits.

Sometimes, I attempt to make new lipstick colors by combining the various 'sticks and glosses in my collection.

When I have a lot of time I'll blow-dry my hair straight and then watch hair up-do tutorials on YouTube so I can try them out. My favorite is this girl Albo Mayo. That kid can use a curling iron.

So the lesson here is that I am crazy and will probably benefit from living an environment where these habit are curtailed. Though, it would be really fun to teach R all my old dance routines.

The Checking Out Series: Update from the friend who went off the grid

2011-09-28T07:00:00.000-04:00

Below is an update from that good friend of mine who up and quit his job a few months ago.

When I last wrote, I was fresh off of making one of the most critical decisions in my life. While I was uncertain with what lay ahead, I was confident in the decision I had made, knowing that eventually the pieces would come together.

I spent the following few weeks lining up opportunities to fall back on, while making an effort to learn certain areas that I've always been interested in. My focus was on learning about the startup world, and exploring whether it made sense for me to start something on my own or join an existing early-stage startup. A good buddy and I also had been talking about writing a book/blog, so that was an option I was going to explore as well.

Without getting too into detail with names of companies, I had options on the table to join up with several startups that would allow me to be exposed to that world, learn, prove myself, and ultimately make a decent amount of money. So what did I decide to do? Well, write the book of course. The book that's titled "100 Red Flags: The hilarious, head-turning antics of perpetually single women".

Yep.

Why? I don't know. It just sort of happened. I was unsure of stepping into ANY organization, even if I was employee number 2. A big reason for that is that I didn't want to be in a scenario where I still was allowing others to make every decision. I'm pretty stubborn and headstrong, which is something to work on but is also something that I know will ultimately help me lead a company.

The book (which is currently a blog, just launched) became something that I could focus on. I learned about the book publishing process, what a winning book proposal contained. I put together an entire marketing plan that would allow for the book to have success. I was working with a buddy of mine. I was getting in a groove for all of these reasons, and one more: I didn't really focus on whether or not this would make a ton of money.

Unfortunately, this has crept into my head more often lately, and with it has come an even greater focus on the book as a quick success would be proof that I made the right decision (one may ask "prove to who?"). Lots of people, upon quitting their job, would take some time off: they'd enjoy the summer, they'd go to the pool, on a vacation, whatever. I replaced work with work.

It's a crazy conundrum. I fucking love running the opposite way. I spent the first month hitting different cafes across the city, taking each in for what they offered - cool decor, interesting people, nearby delicious food I needed to try - awesome. It's refreshing and eye-opening to see people running the same direction...although walking would probably be a better description. There seems to be a special spirit amongst them, almost as if they are more real and more genuine. They look at you, they smile, they interact. They are mothers, writers, entrepreneurs, musicians, sales reps. Ultimately, though, they are just interesting.

I still have no idea what I'm doing, or what exactly I want to do, but I'm at the point now where I almost forget what it's like to run that rat race, because any race becomes a rat race. It's just easier to not to be consumed by it when you're in a tub full of rats, not an ocean.

Do people really treat you differently the minute you get married?

2011-09-26T07:00:00.000-04:00

My good friend Michelle observed a very specific change in the way people treated her after she got married - two specific groups of people, to be precise.

Michelle is a 30-year-old successful professional both well-liked and well-respected in her industry. She dated her now husband for approximately 2 years prior to their wedding day. Her now husband is an equally well liked/respected member of his respective industry. Neither Michelle nor her husband shifted anything about their professional lives directly following their marriage.

I mention these specifics to point out that Michelle's social and professional worlds were well-prepared for her nuptials. There should have been no difference in the way she was perceived directly before and directly after she said, "I do."

And yet Michelle perceived an immediate change.

We discussed her theory over lunch at Comicon down in San Diego (that's how backed up I am with posts...) - an event filled with networking parties where 5 min catch-up run ins and sub 10 min "agentings" reign. It was there that Michelle really noticed the difference in how the single, unmarried set was responding to her new relationship status.

It was hard to define, she explained, but there's this sense that they now think of her as, "done" - unavailable, uninterested and bound for a life of falling asleep to a movie on the couch. (note: my words, not hers). Even though she was just as committed to her boyfriend throughout their entire pre-marriage relationship, there was a shift in the way she felt considered now that they were married. It was as if, she explained, they now assumed she had no interest in single, unmarried things. Plus - though she couldn't fully put her finger on this - there was less of an "edge" to the way she was spoken to. If there was any air of a flirt from a male colleague before, it was gone now. If a female industry contact would previously dish dating gossip prior, she wouldn't now. It was as if she'd lost her membership to the single people club.

What she got in return was an unspoken membership to the married people club. They treated her like she'd finally arrived. The husband jokes started flowing. The couples' dinner invites increased. There was, the described, this sense that she was now to be taken seriously because she was a married woman. Michelle won't be out boozing with the girls, their attitude suggested. Michelle won't hook up with the Summer intern. Michelle isn't a threat. She's married. (again, my words. Married or not, Michelle would never hook up with the Summer intern).

I believe Michelle unconditionally, but I couldn't (didn't want to?) wrap my head around the reality of the insta-switch. Was the single set really pulling a, "well, I'd invite you to the party but your married now." Could a Club Wed filled with "don't you hate when he leaves his shoes around the house" really pop up so quickly?

I ran this theory by a married, male co-worker - a guy I suspected would meet the story with a, "it's all in her head." Instead I got instant agreement and further elaboration.

"It goes company by company," he said, "Some places are more family-focused. But in the higher level positions being married is a sign that you're serious - about your job, about your life, about everything." Before you take that giant plunge, he explained, you're just one drunk Christmas party away from being the hook-up talk of the town. And much as this town revolves around gossip, no one wants their VP to be the one in that spotlight.

But could there be that much of a difference between someone who's in a committed relationship and someone who signed a marriage license?

"Yes," he said, "it isn't final 'til it's final."

I wonder if this is an L.A. phenomenon... And L.A. entertainment industry phenomenon?... I wonder if the single set just acts weird because they're jealous... I wonder if married folk are all quietly judging the pre-married among them... And I wonder if this is a product of "just married" status or something to content with from wedding on out...

Agreements? Arguments? Thoughts?

20-Nothings 2.0

2011-09-23T15:40:00.002-04:00

I decided that after almost 4 years it was time for a blog re-design! I think the new look is decidedly more "I'm-in-my-late-twenties-now" than my original.

Special shout-out of thanks to Brittany Holloway Brown who successfully re-created me in cartoon form. She knew just what I meant by, "can we try a booty...maybe in a leopard print?" Also, my hair never looks that good.

You can expect the same twice to thrice-weekly postings on the same mix of subjects moving forward.

Have a fantastic weekend everyone!

Some context behind my SUNDAY NIGHT SEX TALKS event

2011-09-22T07:00:00.004-04:00

(BUY TICKETS HERE!)

Here's a little context behind my upcoming, L.A. storytelling event - SUNDAY NIGHT SEX TALKS. Juuust in case you needed convincing to come out and join us.

Sunday, October 2nd at 8pm, seven hysterical and talented performers will take the Bar Lubitsch stage for a girls-only, R-rated storytelling session.

The topic: The First Time I ___________ I felt _____________.

The format: Free-form storytelling based on the prompt. The show will run 1 hr.

The talent: Two ladies named Erin, Four ladies whose names begin with an M, a Grey's Anatomy Veteran, and me!

Tickets: (Oooone more time... ) $6 at Brown Paper Tickets

Pending a successful turn-out (see above!) we'll be organizing these puppies monthly! E-mail me with questions, comment, talent suggestions and positive RSVPs! Hoping to see many of you on 10/2 (sorry boys...).

I don't think Zooey Deschanel is damaging the progress of modern women. Do you?

2011-09-20T07:00:00.000-04:00

Tonight I will be one among the (hopefully) millions of people oggling at Zooey Deschanel as she makes her network television debut in Fox's 20-somethings comedy NEW GIRL.

It will be the second time I watch this exact episode of television. The first was when the pilot was passed around the TV biz earlier this year (L.A. plus column item #43: advance screeners).

I liked 85% of it then, and I expect to like 75-79% of it tonight (my second impression opinion generally experiences a 8-10% dropoff from my first. Sorry UP ALL NIGHT). I this the premise (dumped girl moves in with three rando bros) is promising. I think the writing (Liz Meriwether of NO STRING ATTACHED fame) is strong. And I think Deschanel's portrayal of Jess (extra points for perfect naming!) is wonderfully, quirkily charming (stop trying to make "adorkable" happen, Fox).

But apparently it will be in that final category where I differ from some female bloggers out there. Apparently there is a contingent that finds Zooey Deschanel uniquely damning to the progress of modern women. No, it's true. New York mag wrote included it in an article. There's a chapter heading called "Deschanel's polarizing effect on women."

I fancy myself fairly in touch with today's woman, but this one caught me off guard. Is it a pro/con bangs debate? A group of angry brown-eye-girls lamenting territory lost? Women Against Actresses Who Insist Upon Being Indie Singers (go back to your day job Johansson!!)?

No. Apparently it's this:

"...they resent her for seemingly playing into the male fantasy that women are only attractive when they act like girls. Plenty of blog posts have used Deschanel as a launchpad for this very debate. Then there’s grumbling that while alt-heroines of the past (Winona Ryder, Parker Posey) had a kind of edge to them, Deschanel is all sweetness and light: not enough kohl on the lens."

Right now you're either going, "Yeah!! Bleep that sugar sweet minx!" or "I'm sorry, what??" But it's true. I did my Internet searching. People really do think she's harming the progress of "real" women. Case in point: kittengate.

"On June 4, Deschanel sent out the following tweet: “I wish everyone looked like a kitten.” It got retweeted “100+” times, and then was cited in a post that comedian Julie Klausner wrote, picked up by Jezebel.com, decrying the trend of grown women who play ukulele, like crafts, and tweet about kittens. Klausner’s gist was that women who act girlie are “in it for the peen” and shamelessly trying to “broadcast to men that we won’t bite their dicks off,” and that their behavior is making it harder for the rest of us to get taken seriously. “The larger issue is that it is a lot easier for men—or even guys or bros—to demean us if we’re girls,” she wrote. “It’s much harder to bring down a woman, or to call her a moron, when she’s not in pigtails.""

It was somewhere around, "women who act girlie are 'in it for the peen,'" that I decided to write this blog post.

I don't know if Zooey Deschanel is "in it for the peen" or subconsciously portraying a character who is...I can't type that phrase again. She seems happily married to a man who is quoted in this article saying, "I don't really think there's a whole lot of mystery about Zooey...Who she is in private is a very similar person to the one you see in public." Her public life and private life do seem extremely consistent leading me to believe that she actually is the kitten-loving, sugar sweet, sing-song extrovert she portrays in real and Internet life.

But I don't think the "People Against Zooey" are upset about her integrity; I think they're upset about her person. I think they think that in being who she is she's tearing up the pavers laid by liberated women who don't want to wear Mad Men dresses or bake cupcakes to get a man. I think they think her throw-back tendencies (knitting, folk singing, hew-hawing) are so aligned with a 1950s housewife that she'll permit men to behave like 1950's husbands.

In the words of one among the anti-ZD set: “It’s much harder to bring down a woman, or to call her a moron, when she’s not in pigtails.”

Is it?

Listen. I get it. I don't (didn't...) want to have to play a part to hook a man. It bothers me to think that men are looking for an archetype of a woman and not a real woman.

But isn't the whole point of feminism that it's the person underneath the dress slash pants suit that matters? Aren't we supposed to be able to wear short skirts if we like our legs but still demand respect in the bed/boardroom? Can't Zooey Deschanel be bake cookies for her boyfriend every single day and still maintain equal footing in their relationship? Why does being sweet automatically equal being submissive? And isn't it the projection of that idea that's ultimately most damaging to women - the idea that looking like one things means you are automatically another?

I actually think Liz Meriwether - the real Jess from NEW GIRL - responds best:

“If you feel upset with how cute someone is, maybe you should go outside and run around a little. Get some air.” Deschanel agrees. “That people equate being girlie with being nonthreatening … I mean, I can’t think of a more blatant example of playing into exactly the thing that we’re trying to fight against. I can’t be girlie? I think the fact that people are associating being girlie with weakness, that needs to be examined. I don’t think that it undermines my power at all.”

What say you(s)? Do you hate ZD because her cuteness is undermining your feminism? Or do you just hate her because of her seemingly innate ability to match her dresses with her eyes?

A case for test-driving adulthood: moving in edition

2011-09-19T10:45:00.004-04:00

No, this is not about me...yet.

The following guest post is from a good friend and great writer who is exploring a new phase in her relationship through a lens I think many of you will totally understand. Enjoy!

ADULTHOOD: Training Wheels Needed!

I am the queen of taste tests – in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever walked into an ice cream shop and not asked for a sample before placing my order.

And if you think about it, all of our lives we’ve been able to test, demo or somehow ease our way into next life-changing situation.

We had training wheels on our first bike, floaties on our arms as we learned to swim, training bras, driving permits, kitten heels before stilettos, college visits, internships... we can even try on clothes before we buy them! I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to try something first before committing to your final decision!

So why is it as we get older life’s little “taste tests” seem to become less frequent?...

Earlier this year my boyfriend and I were talking about moving in together since our leases were up at the same time. However, my apartment building would let me shift to a month-to-month lease his would not. So instead of fully committing to a move-in, I decided to keep my apartment just in case I needed it but go ahead and mostly move in with him.

I needed to test it out - not because I wasn’t sure if I’d like living with him (I knew we would be fine and it would be fun), but more because I didn’t want to make a big decision without sampling the situation.

(Before I continue, I should mention that I’m glad I kept my tiny apartment because now that I’ve gone freelance I use it as an office.)

But just the other day, the boyfriend proposed that I get rid of my apartment and that we move into a bigger apartment where we could both work at home (he currently works from home as well).

My gut reaction: “Okay, good idea, but can we test it out for a couple weeks to see if I can work in the same vicinity as you?”

Instead, I told him that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get any work done with him in the next room (I’d just want to hangout together all day!), but that it’s something we can continue thinking about without making any promises yet.

Obviously I’m an over thinker, I analyze everything – but am I crazy to think that we deserve a little more testing before jumping into the biggest life decisions? Just like all those childhood lessons we practiced before fully diving in, shouldn’t adult life moves offer the same? How do you all feel about “taste tests” in real-life? I’d love to hear some of your stories and ideas on this tricky one.

Is it ok to date someone you know you'll eventually break up with?

2011-09-16T13:48:00.003-04:00

This is one of those questions that I've always thought about but never put to blog post.

Say you're just out of a long-term relationship, or say it's been years since your last legit relationship, or say your Mom is more on your case about the fact that she thinks you're a lesbian than she's ever been before. Whatever the circumstance, you want a boyfriend - not a husband, not a bleep buddy - the goal is a man on your arm/at you dinner table/with you for your friend's birthday party.

So you find yourself a boyfriend. Maybe you meet him casually through some friends. Maybe you meet him online. Doesn't matter. God grants a miracle and you end up with someone who you want to be your boyfriend...for now.

The "for now" is where today's question comes in.

See, you like this guy. You and this guy have fun. You are not afraid to introduce this guy to your friends. Buuut, deep down you know it isn't going anywhere. There's just something about him or you two as a couple that doesn't have long-term potential. I won't start to list things because that will only prove how shallow my mind can be. For purposes of this conversation let's just say he 100% doesn't want kids and you 100% do. Fine.

Now the question is - is it wrong to date him? You know you're eventually going to break up. Does that mean you're leading him on? Does that mean you're lying about your real feelings? I mean, you like him right now, there's no doubt about that. Right now you are a good/fun/happy couple. At what point are you doing the "wrong thing" - if ever? When you find out how much he likes you? After the very important (according to me) 3-month mark?

I actually don't know the answer. This is partly because I've done the "expiration dating" thing so I fiercely defend an individual's right to enjoy a relationship for the sake of enjoying a relationship, not for the sake of marriage. That said I've also been expiration dated, and it doesn't feel nice when someone dumps you after month five because they always knew they weren't interested in month eleven.

So what say you, my Internet peanut gallery. Is it never right? Is it always fine, to a point? Or is there more to this whole ordeal then I have time to figure out on a Friday morning?

Why I can't bring myself to be a bohemian

2011-09-13T07:00:00.001-04:00

I have an overwhelming desire to go "off the grid." To leave the life of corporate America and make my living off freelance things until I (god-willing) make it as a full-time writer. It's a desire I've been toying with for oohhh six plus years.

And yet for the past six plus years I have moved from job to job without so much as a one week break. One time I actually stopped one job and started a new one on the same day (1/2 day morning at one, 1/2 day afternoon at the other). This is in part because I'm one of those Millennial grads with negative life savings, a healthy pile of student loans and a degree for the industry that pays its entry-level work force in experiences. I haven't technically had the luxury of going boho.

But that's mostly an excuse. Plenty of people get by without corporate jobs, and some of them even make more money than I have over the past six years. Plenty of people are waitresses, bartenders, tutors, or nannies. Some people work part time as a receptionist and cover the rest of their living costs by writing articles for blogs or magazines. I used to know a guy in Brooklyn who was a personal trainer so he could afford to be an actor. Those people pay their rent, contribute to their student loans, and manage all the other life expenses that have had me tied to a 9-7 since I graduated from college. That's because those people can handle the life of a bohemian (a word I'm falsely using as a catch-all to describe people who do not make a living inside a traditional corporate or business structure. Please just go with it).

I'm not entirely sure that I can.

I've been thinking a lot about this idea of leading an alternative lifestyle as I struggle to find enough time to pursue my writing projects. Every non-desk-job prospect seems like the smarter path to finding more time for creative pursuits. Plus, I've worked many a make-money job in my time - the hostess/waitress/Banana Republic employee type. It's nothing I can't handle, and I'd go so far as to say I was a better waitress than I've ever been Microsoft Office Suite user.

And yet no matter how much I long for the bounce-around lifestyle so many Angeleno slashies (i.e. actress/waitress/shopgirl) have successfully mastered, I'm terrified to take that leap. I think there's a chance I'd make a crappy bohemian. Insane, I know!! My Pinterest Boards are super eclectic, and I can make no fewer than five other accessories out of a vintage scarf (including a handbag!!). I've never had a ton of money, don't need much to be happy and actually think Ramen noddles are delicious. Plus I'm really excellent at structuring my extra-curricular time (barring re-runs of So You Think You Can Dance popping up).

So then what's my hang up? Why am I so sure I'll fail if I attempt to make it without a real business card? Here's what I can come up with, fully un-aided by a self help book!

I'm uncomfortable in a world without titles. My mother is a Director of Curriculum. My father is a Creative Director. My friends are accountants, doctors, lawyers, teachers, directors of development, urban planners. Right now I'm a something too - I'm a director of branded entertainment - something that has cultural capital in a world where people "get" what you do by the title of your job. If I become a writer-who-hasn't-sold-anything-and-gets-by-on-several-odd-jobs, where does that leave me in the eyes of the world? I have an expensive education. Shouldn't I have a job title to match?

I don't think I'd feel stable without salaried income. This one's somewhat legit, somewhat neurotic. I've never not known exactly where my next paycheck is coming from and how much money it will contain. The thought of getting by on a series of jobs - waitress?, script reader?, freelance writer? - is scary because I have real bills to pay and don't have the luxury of a benefactor on speed dial. My friend Erica owns her own publicity firm - a move she bravely made after years working for other PR companies. "You can't fathom how motivated you'll be to make money once you're fully responsible for the money coming in," she told me the last time I went through this same freak out. Maybe she's right. Maybe she's wrong. I may or may not ever know.

I wonder if it will actually be as glorious as it is in my head. What if the bohemian life is actually more frustrating than corporate life? What if you think you'll have more time to write, but you actually work far more hours trying to pay the bills? What if being disconnected from colleagues at a company is actually really lonely? What if you never wear another blazer again because bohemians don't have a need to wear blazers??

Am I right? Am I wrong? Am I selfish? Am I naive?

If your life is like the vague catch-all term I'm using to describe non-traditional, please share your feelings on the matter. And if your life is like mine, please contact me so we can hang out and complain about the desire to have a less stable life during this country's least stable economic period in recent history. I'll pick the bar.

Ten years ago today

2011-09-11T15:04:00.005-04:00

Ten years ago today was the third day of my very first year of college - quite literally the third day of what I then thought was my adult life.

I remember the haircut of the woman in the elevator of Devlin Hall who said the words, "terrorist attack on New York City," - that's how specific that time still is in my mind. It was a brown, straight-haired bob, and she wore a brown tortise-pattern head band to keep back off her face. I remember hearing her and thinking, "god, the news media is so alarmist."

Professor Eric Strauss' survey of bio class was in a giant lecture hall that had one of those floor-to-ceiling screens for projecting videos and powerpoint presentation. People were gathered outside the room frantically attempting cell phone calls. One girl was crying into the arms of a guy I vaguely recognized. My brain made the connection between what the woman on the elevator said and this scene outside the classroom, but the reality was still confused - like I was watching a movie of these events, not participating in them.

The minute I entered the classroom that vantage point switched. Strauss was projecting CNN live onto that giant screen, and the picture I walked into was of the second plane crashing into the tower. I don't remember the exact chain of events from that moment until the moment I came to and remembered that my Dad was in an office building 50 blocks from whatever the hell was going on at the Twin Towers. I watched one or maybe both of the towers collapse on that big screen. I heard shocked screams and cries from my classmates. I saw Professor Strauss cover his face with his hands then emerge with watery eyes to say, "We cannot have class right now. Please go make sure you family and friends are safe."

I didn't have any friends in that class yet, so I wandered alone outside to massive campus plaza to try for cell reception. People were standing around in clustered crying, passing phones around or catching each other up on the events. I remember searching the area with my eyes for absolutely anyone that I recognized, but I didn't find a single person. My roommate was still asleep in bed. The few friends whose numbers I had at that point where unreachable since none of our phones worked. I had absolutely no idea what to do.

The priority was calling home, so I went back into Devlin Hall and searched for a office that would have a land line. There was a short line of desperate people like me waiting to call home from the biology department office, so I waited my turn. "My dad works on Madison and 51st," I told one of the ladies in the office. "I'm so sorry sweetheart," she said. I didn't know her. She didn't know me. And neither of us knew what to say.

I got a hold of my Mom on the first try. She had already communicated with my Dad who was safe uptown but trapped in the city. He and some co-workers who also commuted from New Jersey were devising a route home through Long Island or Queens since all the tunnels and bridges had been shut off. "Try not to worry," my Mom said, "just go back to your dorm and stay far away from the city."

Boston College is a good 10 or 12 miles from the center of Boston and even further from Logan Airport where we quickly learned one or more of the planes had originated. I lived in freshman housing that was another mile or so from the school's main campus. And now 1+ hours into the attacks I was still completely alone. I distinctly remember having the desire to sit in the quad or on the steps of O'Neil Plaza so that one of the few people I knew might find me. I remember making a list in my head of the people I would feel comfortable crying in front of - thinking, "it would be good to sit here and have Joe find me because I think I would be ok crying in front of Joe." In the end I took the campus shuttle back to my freshman housing. There were 50-or-so freaked-out looking freshman on that shuttle, but again I didn't know a single one of them.

I spent the rest of the day holed up in my 12x12 foot double with my roommate Jenny flipping between network coverage. The rumors of new friends or acquaintances who'd lose family members or friends trickled in throughout the day. That night my best friend from high school who was just down the road at BU came to stay with us at BC. People were still very nervous about what could happen in the centers of other prominent U.S. cities, so our suburban campus was a safe refuge. I think he stayed for two or three days because no one really knew what could happen. No one really knew what did happen.

"Are you going to write a September 11th post?" R asked me a few days ago. "I don't think so," I replied, "I don't really have anything to say."

I was born and raised outside New York City, but I was detached from 9/11 by distance and - thank god - a lack of connection to anyone involved in the atrocities. It was like it didn't happen to my city, my family, my version of the world.

"I think I'm actually sadder about 9/11 today than I could bring myself to be when it first happened. How terrible is that?" I asked R. "Sometimes things don't make sense until you have a lot distance," he told me.

I have never been an adult in a pre-9/11 world; I was 18-years-old when it happened. I have never flown alone without taking off my shoes. I have never lived in a New York with the Twin Towers in its skyline. I have never learned of a major disaster - from a pipe bursting to a wide-spread power outage - and not thought it was a terrorist attack. My adult reality is one in which this country is a target. My attitude about flying on airplanes or living in downtown Manhattan is not, "there's no danger in that," it's, "we can't live lives governed by fear."

I think what makes me more sad about 9/11 today than I was a decade ago is the realization that America no longer stands apart from the rest of the world as this utopia of safety and power. Whether or not that feeling was ever grounded in reality, I grew up believing that there was the rest of the world, and there was us. We were rich. We were powerful. We were invincible.

Since 9/11/01 America has become more and more like the rest of the world. We are debt-ridden. We are a political mess. We are out of work. We are poorly educated. Those attacks were not the direct cause of this country's devolution, but I cannot help but wonder where we would be if they never happened. Would we have gone to war in Iraq? Would the stock market have collapsed? Would Obama have lost or won? Would the economy be the mess it is today? I don't know.

For the past ten years we've had to be sharper, brighter, more attentive, and more aware. We've had to have a bigger world view than we've had in my lifetime and that of my parents. We've had to reckon with what it feels like to live in a place that other people want to destroy.

I think the reason I'm sadder about 9/11 today than I could bring myself to be ten years ago has a lot to do with how detached I was as a brand new freshman with five friends to my name. But I think the other half of it is the feeling that we haven't done what we were supposed to do in these past ten years to fully recover or - more importantly - to advance.

Yes, installed protections to prevent a 9/11-scale attack from happening again. Yes, we got Bin Laden. Yes, we are winding down in Iraq and Afghanistan. But I feel like so many of the struggles this nation continues to battle fly in the face of that progress. We are a united force against terror and yet our congress can barely pass a single bill. We help create and restructure a democracy in Iraq and yet we can't agree on a process to build jobs here in America. I don't believe we're wasting our time elsewhere and ignoring our problems at home. I believe we should be great enough to do both.

I feel like we command the respect of the world and yet often don't behave like we deserve that respect. These are bold statements at the end of a long essay in the middle of a tough day, but they are how I feel about my America ten years after the greatest attacks on its soil.

I have faith, hope and appreciation for this country because I believe it has the potential to overcome any tragedy we experience. In many, many ways we have overcome the events of September 11th, but in many more we remain scarred and debilitated.

I would like to be wholly proud of this country again in my adult lifetime. So today in addition to remembering those lives we lost and being grateful for the heroes of 9/11, I am thinking about what I hope this entire country will look like ten years from today and wondering how I can be more a part of making it match my vision of what America should be.

What $5 bills taught me about relationships

2011-09-09T12:00:00.001-04:00

I currently have $555 in rolled-up five dollar bills jammed into a Pat O'Brien's hurricane glass that sits on my bed stand. Please don't rob me.

How and why they got there is a fairly simple story.

Sometime around month two of dating I proposed the idea of saving $5 bills to R. It's an idea that my friend Michael once told me his friend Paula did with her now-fiance Adam (congrats guys!). So, I stole it.

The process is as simple as it sounds: both members of the couple save all five dollar bills that they receive as change. If you pay for a drink with a twenty and get two fives in return those must immediately go into a separate part of your wallet called the no-touch-zone where they're stored until you transfer them to the bigger pot. Or, if you're R you can just keep them with the other bills in your wallet because you possess the will-power to not spend them.

R agreed that the idea was fun slash smart, and we started immediately. As he puts it, five dollars is not enough to notice but definitely enough to add up. We have since spent chunks of $1-200 for various special occasions and trips and will soon spend the full amount saved on a fun weekend getaway to celebrate having been together for one year (R: "Why are you so opposed to saying Anniversary!" Me: "I don't know. Just sounds so serious." R: "It is!").

That's the how and why behind this extra chunk of dough. Oh, also, the Pat O'Brien's hurricane glass was a very clever Hannukah gift from R because we originally intended to spend the money on a trip to New Orleans. Turns out those cost way more than $555.

But as this blog post title suggests, there has been a surprise element of "what" to the $5 ordeal - specifically, what I've learned about being in a relationship, one five dollar bill at a time.

I am dating a man who commits to a task

Prior to beginning the $5 bill charade I would have called R driven, persistent, and future-focused. I had a good sense that he was the kind of guy who wouldn't give up easily. He seemed competitive about things that are important to him.

Today I would call him obsessively committed to projects he finds worthwhile, especially if they involve saving money for fun things (read: meals). The minute we started this little savings game it was as if he was put on this earth to save five dollar bills. On several occasions I witnessed him ask a cashier at Whole Foods if she could deliver his change in fives. Twice he scolded me in public for presenting a five dollar bill as potential tender. "That bill is frozen!" R once said, "You know the rules!"

In R's opinion, a project isn't worth agreeing to if you're just going to pick and choose when you do it. ...Which miiiight explain why he has not verbally committed to cleaning out his closet and uses language like, "that might be something I could do" when the topic is broached.

Lesson here: It's not a bad idea to find out how "game" your guy can be about something that benefits the collective. People who commit to things like saving money are generally more comfortable committing to things like other people.

It is important/nice/special/helpful to have "things"

Perhaps the most vague paragraph heading I've ever written, but what I'm getting at is very specific. The five dollar bills are "our thing" - they're something we decided to do together so we could have collectively slush funds for special events or occasions. They are simple. They are silly. They are often a source of frustration and bickering, but they are our thing.

I admit that the "we have a special thing" about this whole thing was not immediately my favorite part. My tough, former New York romantic exterior makes me averse to some elements of romance and couple "mush." But R's insistence on elevating this joint project to super special status - the Pat O'Brien's jar, the bi-weekly counting of the bills, the little list we keep of where and when we'll spend it - changed my tune. "We've gotta celebrate stuff," he said to me after I eye-rolled his $5 fan-fare, "That's what this is about."

Lesson here (brace for mush): relationships are built on many grand and important things, but I've come to be convinced that it's the silly little celebrations inside them that make you a unit, and not just two people who happen to be dating.

When you commit to not spending your own money you're not losing that money

I have a problem with finances. Well, technically I have a problem with numbers and math that presents as a problem with finances as it is my understand that finances are governed by numbers and math. So when I "lose" five dollars to the five dollars jar I feel as though I am losing money that I desperately need to break even on the monthly budget that I've built in my head using shapes and colors.

Nothing makes me more frustrated that getting three fives back as change from a twenty dollar bill. I have on multiple occasions asked if the cashier has singles instead.

But - and this is important - I never do that in front of R. I respect his love for the fives. I (mostly) want to save as much money as possible so we can do fun things. And I will admit that I've come to love the fan fare of the bi-weekly countings.

Lesson here: I used to feel like having those extra five dollar bills was more important than my commitment to the plan or my "special thing" with R. Now I think they're far less important around the 1st and 15th of the month and about even most other times. Or, in other words, pay attention in math.

I welcome and encourage the stealing of our little five dollar savings plan to fund your own special occasions. I also welcome and encourage you to share your own stories of lessons learned from "silly little plans" in comments. And yes, I know they're not really silly.

The Great Love-Puppy Debate

2011-09-07T07:00:00.000-04:00

I am as mortified that I've never heard the term "Love-Puppy" in my four years of relationship-blogging as I am grateful to Sarah for bringing me up to speed.

For those of you even more in the dark than I - a love-puppy is the dog you get with your significant other when you're feeling pretty confident that things are going to work out long-term. No, not your fiance. And no, definitely not your spouse. What makes the love-puppy a "love-puppy" and not a "fur-baby" is the fact that is joins the family prior to the family technically existing.

He or she most commonly comes into play right after you move in together, though shopping for breed and selection of name begin months prior. It's, "I've always wanted a dog..." then, "Well we should get one!" then, "but we don't live together..." and finally, "So when we move in together can we get a dog??"

I'm told the real puppy purchase doesn't happen until you go "pretend" look for dogs one afternoon because there aren't any good movies out and all your friends are busy. That's when, "a dog would be sooo fun," becomes, "he had us at woof-woof..." (that being the caption under the camera phone image you upload to Facebook the minute you get the dog).

I should mention at this point that I have done zero research on this not-at-all-a-phenomenon (so look out for an article about it in the Sunday Times...three years from now!), so I cannot tell you if the love-puppy is something one half of the pair pushes for versus the other or if it's always mutual. I also don't know if the girl (in a hetero set-up) always makes the pup-play before the guy (or vice versa), nor do I know if there is any form of legal documentation one must file over a dog sos to denote who exactly owns the dog (maybe there can be two owners?).

All I do know is that I personally think love-puppies are risky business. Not "a bad idea for every couple, ever" and not "destined to cause disaster" - just risky. Here are my two main reasons why:

1. If you have been dating for 7 years, living together for 5 I think it's fair to say that your life together is not in transition. If you have dated for under 1 year and just moved in together 3 months ago I think it's fair to say that your relationship is in the middle of a fairly big transition. And just because you successfully moved your 89 pair of shoes into his mini walk-in without a monster fight doesn't mean you are ready to jointly care for a new canine life. My opinion: just give it a little time. No one ever looked back on their life together and said, "you know what would have made everything better? If we'd gotten Princess Buttercup the month we moved in together instead of a year later. We really blew it on that one!"

I won't get into why raising a puppy can be a difficult thing for an un-tested couple to manage or why it's a good idea to take things slow when newly co-habitating. We all know all those bullet points, and they are by no means fact. This point of this point is just to say that it cannot hurt to wait, but it can hurt to rush into it before you're ready.

2. Forgive the debbie downer outlook, but what happens if you two don't make it? If the puppy was a baby you'd go through difficult divorce proceedings to determine how custody should be split. Maybe that happens with a dog if you're divorcing? I don't know the legality of it, but if there is nothing binding the couple, that makes for a messy situation should the relationship end. Whose dog is it really? Do you do doggy visitation rights? Do you split all the dog's vet bills?

I know that making a decision based on the worst-case scenario is no way to live your life, and that no one who gets a love-puppy plans on breaking up. So I guess the thesis statement of this point becomes the same as the one prior - why not wait? Most people would say it's a big step to have a baby before you're legally bound. Why is a dog any different? (that's not a rhetorical question. I'm actually working through this issue in my head).

Those are two points on one specific side of the divide, but someone could just as easily say that puppies bring couples together, teach important lessons in co-habitation and are absolutely nothing like having a child. Again, I don't know, I've never raised a puppy or lived with a boyfriend. I just know that I'd personally want to wait if a puppy was proposed (which it hasn't been. This is not a, "hey R...did you have a chance to read the blog today...").

What's your opinion? What's your experience? Or what's your love-puppy's name?

L.A. Exactly One Year In: Oh the things you will learn to love

2011-09-05T07:00:00.000-04:00

This is coincidentally my 365th day of living in Los Angeles and 600th 20-Nothings post, so I guess it better be good.

One year ago today I arrived in L.A. on a Virgin America flight during which I drank two mini bottles of champagne, cried my eyes out to SEX & THE CITY 2, and wrote this blog post.

Today I am sitting in the backyard of my West Hollywood house trying to decide whether or not I feel like I thought I'd feel one year in...

The more I think about it the more I realize I had no idea what this transition would be like. I think there's something about blindly following a passion (and by blindly I mean hemming and hawing for 2+ years then developing a 6-month project plan to make it happen) that affords you the rare opportunity to only see what's directly before you. I took my L.A. move one-step-in-front-of-me-at-a-time, so I wasn't remotely focused on the steps 365 days in the future.

And yet here I am, 365 days in the future.

They say it takes three years to really feel adjusted to Los Angeles. I'm an overachiever, so I like to think I'm through at least two of those three. There are things I expected to love about L.A., and I do love them. There are things I didn't expect to love about L.A., and I think I love them more. And then there are things I'm still learning to even understand about L.A., and I think I love that process the most.

For now, in honor of how good she's been to me over the past 12 months, I'm going to focus on 10 very specific things that make thrilled to call L.A. my current home. Prepare for schmaltz. I'll try to keep it in check.

My frequent Saturday-at-9am hikes with R up to Griffith Park Observatory where we decide how far and long we'll go based entirely on how much we want to pig-out at Home Restaurant in Loz Feliz when we're done.

Knowing that no matter what specific sector of "the biz" my friends out here work in, they're all fighting the same fight I'm fighting to be a part of creating something I'm proud of. In other words, misery is less miserable with company.

It's not the fact that the beach is 20 minutes away it's that I have a secret beach parking spot and beach-sitting section organized around the Santa Monica shopping I want to do pre or post beach.

Outdoor heat lamps (or rather, the predominance of). Even though Adam is right - they are the most egregious form of human waste on the planet.

The joys, hysterics, and out-of-this-world theme parties that come with my Three's Company living situation (in which I'm John Ritter and the two girls are two gays).

Getting 2, 4, 8, 15? people together for bench seats at a Hollywood Bowl show then pre-gaming it with enough, bread, cheese and screw-top bottles of wine to feed the entire audience.

My salsa red Jetta. Despite the insufferable traffic we often find ourselves in together. She corners on a dime, parallel parks in the smallest of spots, and is happiest with the moon roof open, just like me.

It's 2 hours to San Diego, 2 hours to Santa Barbara, 4 hours to Vegas, and a $99 flight to San Francisco/Sonoma. I've taken more weekend trips in my one year here than I took in my five years in New York.

The L.A. life schedule - early to bed, early to breakfast. Every once in awhile I miss my former life of 4am falafel binges at Mamoun's, but mostly my liver and I are grateful for the slower pace of the social goings on out here.

And finally, the sunshine. I know it seems ridiculous to place so much value on the weather - as all Southern Californians do - but it absolutely, positively makes a difference in every day life out here. It's energizing, it's motivating, and it's just plain beautiful.

I have a feeling this list of ten will expand as I make my way to a second anniversary in L.A., but for now I'm grateful these and the many other loves that I've found out west.

And I'm very, very grateful to all the people back east whose love and support have made all my Los Angeles discoveries possible.

Is Everybody EnGAGED?!?!

2011-09-02T07:00:00.000-04:00

You know that scene in IN & OUT - the classic "Kevin Kline-realizes-he's-a-gay-man" romp - where Joan Cusak melts into a drunk puddle upon finding out that yet another man connected to her fiance is gay. "IS EVERYBODY GAAAAAY?!?!" she wails.

Well that's the move I pulled (minus the wedding dress, but including the piercing mid-western accent) upon finding out that yet another of my friends proposed last weekend.

"IS EVERYBODY ENGAAAAGED?!?!"

I've lost track of the number of people I know in the 25-32-year-old range who've become affianced in the past six months. College friends. Work friends. Family friends. People I'm not really friends with at all but feel guilty de-friending on Facebook. It's like...like...hmm...it's like exactly what they told me it would be like when I hit my late 20s. "They" being everyone who'd been there, done that. "It'll creep up on you," they said, and they were right.

But the fact that it has doesn't explain the fact that it did. Or, in clearer sentence, why is everybody getting engaged? What is it about human nature/culture/history that makes the current age of settling down around the 28th year of life?

Here are my theories to date:

The biological clock thing

Last weekend I was at a BBQ that featured this incredibly attractive 9-month-old named Oscar, and I felt a strange urge to kidnap him. I feel this same desire creeping up on me from time to time: see child, want to steal child. I'm not sure if that's the clock in action, but I'm told it's a sneaky little guy that has his way with your psyche in manners you'll never really understand.

Scientifically speaking, we women are arriving at a time when our bodies strongly support the idea of us having children. It's possible/probable that our minds are in on the deal making things like commitment, future-planning, and joint Netflix accounts of interest (and financial sense!). This is the, "it's happening because it's biologically inclined to happen" theory.

My "prom date theory" theory

Several years ago I explained my concept of "prom date theory" as it then applied to many of my peers getting into committed relationships. To quote myself: "One person nails down a date. Then another. Then a third. Suddenly everyone is a mad dash to get a date before all the good one’s run out and they’re ousted from the cool kids limo. Replace "the prom" with a lifetime of happiness and "the cool kids limo" with it’s really boring when all of your friends are dating and you’re not and voila."

I'm not exactly saying that people are getting engaged on account of peer pressure, or because they're afraid all the good spouses will be taken, but that's not not what I'm saying. This is the, "it's just the thing to do," theory.

Because Beyonce said so

Simply put - if you like it then you better put a ring on it or it's going to dump you because it's afraid you have a total fear of commitment and will never put a ring on it. Perhaps guys have internalized that message and are now getting on board before they're pushed off?

The real question here isn't whether or not this theory is true but whether or not this theory would exist if not for the song...

Guys got on board

If you take the Beyonce-factor out of the equation, maybe it's just that guy are ready at 28 and not ready at 25. Yes, it takes two to tango and yes, 20-something women are just a culpable in the I-just-want-to-focus-on-my-career-and-hook-up charade. But if men are not ready to take it to the next level, it doesn't happen. I could just be my personal set of dying-to-be-soccer-Dad friends, but I will go so far as to say that they desired to be engaged. It didn't happen upon them because their girlfriends threw down the ultimatum; they found themselves ready, and so they went for it.

I do not know if there is a male equivalent to the biological clock, but maybe it's more like a maturity clock that kicks in around this very age.

We're too exhausted not to

Going out, getting wasted, playing the field, juggling the dates - that is hard work, and I think many/most of us are too damn tired to live a 22-year-old's life. I don't know if it's because I moved to the land of designated drivers or if it's because I'm 28, but I find myself far more interested in group dinner parties in the backyard then 4am drinking games on a stranger's roof in Brooklyn. And lame as I feel typing that, I actually stand by my new form of fun as a victory vs. a surrender. It's fun to remember everything that happened the night before and it's really fun to wake up without a massive hangover.

So then naturally this part A. of moving beyond the oat-sowing phase of life would lead to part B. a comfort in leaving some of that behind for the lifestyle of a married couple.

We know a good thing when we find it, finally

I don't know about you, but I spent the better (worse?) part of my 20s dating men who were very wrong for me. Call this immaturity, call this short-sightedness, call this not being ready to be with the right person - I don't know. But all these engagements could just be a result of people finally knowing themselves and therefore finally feeling ready to pair that self with someone else.

That's where my list ends at the moment. Check back in with me when another few bite the dust - er - choose to take a very exciting step forward. And in the meantime, please share you own stories, theories and feelings in comments!

How to Write a Feature Film

2011-08-31T07:00:00.001-04:00

...as far as I know.

Step 1: Consume a daily content cocktail of Deadline Hollywood, Variety, The Hollywood Reporter, and Entertainment Weekly (In magazine form. Their website sucks).

Step 2: Arrive at the conclusion that if all these fools can sell a screenplay, so can I!

Step 3: Spend 4-6 months pitching your boyfriend anywhere from 0-56 film concepts a week.

Step 4: Deliver one, final master pitch of your high concept, multi-tone romantic comedy MY HUSBAND BETTY (based on a book that you intend to option once you figure out how much that sort of things costs) - the story of what happens when your husband informs you that he'd rather be your wife.

Step 5: Finally agree with your boyfriend that no one in their right mind is going to buy that film from you (yet!). Settle on your second best idea.

Step 6: Go to Staples on Hollywood Boulevard (I know! How adorably appropriate!) and buy one of those three-panel presentation poster board things plus multi-colored note cards in preparation for script outline development.

Step 7: Decide your closet doors are actually way more effective than the $9.99 piece of cardboard.

Step 8: Attempt to outline your entire film over the course of one Saturday afternoon because that's the only free time you've had in the past six months.

Step 9: Fail.

(One week of very little sleep later)

Step 10: Remove your 100+, multi-colored post-it note scenes from the closet walls and place them in a very cute stack.

Step 11: Tweet a picture of your adorable movie!

Step 12: Transport your movie around in a post-it note sized clutch for a few days so you can make any changes at a moment's notice. Tweet this too.

Step 13: Transfer your post-it notes into a Microsoft Word document. Call that document a "Beat Sheet." Feel very, very cool.

Step 14: Re-read your post-it notes in Beat Sheet form. Realize 25% of it makes sense.

Repeat steps 8-14.

Step 15: Once approx. 75% of your Beat Sheet makes sense, send it to your boyfriend to review.

Step 16: Have a fight about the importance of correct grammar in the digital age. Lose.

Step 17: Edit your Beat Sheet. Forget to re-submit it to your boyfriend for approval.

Step 18: Watch this video 3-5 times.

Step 19: Send your Beat Sheet to the professional film development people who are helping you realize your screenwriting dreams.

Step 20: Decide you should spend some time actually determining whether or not you still have the ability to write while you wait for the professional film development people to respond.

Step 21: Select an appropriate First-Day-of-Screenwriting outfit. Remember, if what you wear = who you are and who you are = how you write then what you wear = how you write. That's just math.

Step 22: Go to a very hipster cafe where men in Steampunk costumes serve Intelligentsia coffee.

Step 23: Order the cheapest item on the menu as you are a starving artist.

Step 24: Go to the top right of your 2008 Macbook and select "Turn Airport Off"

Step 25: Open Final Draft. Stare at blank, open Final draft document. Take blackberry pic of blank, open Final Draft document. Tweet it!

Step 26: Spend the next 1.5-2 hours writing 2.5-3 pages of your screenplay.

Step 27: Question your life goals.

Step 28: Go to the MelFax Flea Market to buy a better outfit for your next screenwriting session.

To be continued...

...if I get past Step 28.

I'm in a relationship on the Facebook.

2011-08-29T07:00:00.002-04:00

It happened on Friday, and I can't say it was entirely my doing. It was technically Michael who started the whole thing, and if I had a nickel for every time that was the case I'd be a very rich woman (albeit with far fewer of my favorite clothes).

I've racked up over 7 full years on the Facebook and haven't once included a relationship status. The way I see it (or saw it? no, still see it) there's just too much involved.

And yet here I am, in a relationship on the Facebook. And it's one of those major ones where the other person's name is highlighted in blue inside my profile. The other person being R, of course, whose reaction to this whole ordeal is, "what's the big deal." Classic R.

To understand how and why this all went down we have to revisit that Michael-originated conversation. He lives an off-the-record g-chat life, so all I remember is that it started with an innocent, "hey, I noticed you're not in a relationship on Facebook....how does R feel about that?" and ended with both of us declaring that Facebook is in a way like a modern engagement ring, alerting the world to the fact that your man/woman is taken. One of us said, "it's more significant than moving in." Our 17 year friendship has been prone to exaggeration.

Michael and I raised some valid points in our back-and-forth:

Whose business is it if we're in a relationship or not?
Doesn't everyone who matters already know?
Is it or is it not lying to the virtual world about my actual life to not include it?
Does the devastation of having to remove the relationship (hundreds of virtual eyes gawking! the wildly un-called for "OH NO! What happened??" comments! the horror!) outweigh the potential fight over refusing to include it?
If I maintain the decision to leave it off now, when and why will I ever decide to include it? If we get engaged? (but that could be broken!) If we get married (but people get divorced!)
And, the biggest question of all, what three random pictures will Mark Zuckerberg chose to represent our entire relationship if and when we finally go public???

"This is interesting," I told Michael. "I guess I should talk to R about it. I certainly don't want to be disrespectful to him by not including it."

And with that decision I sealed my own fate. What follows is the conversation between R and I that ended with me being in a relationship on the Facebook. I'm posting this in its un-edited entirety to prove either how completely legitimate or completely illegitimate an issue this is. I still can't decide.

me: hey
R: hi
me: does it bother you that we're not in a relationship on Facebook?
R: it doesn't bother me no / but i'm happy to adjust
me: we never talked about it / and Michael asked me recently / I hadn't really thought about it, because I've never had a relationship status / so it's not like I'm still listed as "single"
R: same
me: it's interesting
R: i just never care about facebook
me: I think I'll write a blog post about it
R: but let's switch it over
me: well…I don't know
R: hahaha / too big a step?
me: well it’s not that it's a really, really big deal / it’s just, if you have to UN change it, it's devastating
R: i guess that's true / but i don't plan on that
me: no, neither do I / I guess I'm happy to switch it
R: you guess?
me: I guess I'd say, "with R__ ______"
R: hahahaha as opposed to?
me: as opposed to not saying anyone
R: just the blanket "in a relationship?"
me: right
R: as if people wouldn't connect it from the photos we have together
me: right, true / it's interesting
R: you are adorable
me: one would argue that everyone I am friends with either knows you exist or certainly should
R: i agree
me: but in my mind I don't want people being nosy about us
R: the people i care about know
me: ...like I am nosy about other people on Facebook / but I guess who cares if they're nosy
R: right / we put up photos of us, and I'm in your blog
me: I have nothing to hide / so NOT listing it so that people aren't nosy is just playing into the whole problem with Facebook / people don't want people judging them, and yet they're on Facebook to be public.
R: yes this is good / no one cares and there's nothing to judge
me: …or everyone cares and there's everything to judge / still shouldn't matter
R: hahahhahahah
me: why are you laughing?
R: because i love that you came up with the reverse to prove the same point
me: it's just as likely that it's true / the point is, we are in a relationship / and it is a lie to the digital world to not include that in our digital profiles / right? / GASP / OMG / you did it! / it just popped up in my gmail / You relationship status bombed me!!!
R: yup, no more discussion
me: I guess I have to accept
Rob: maybe you do / up to you
me: you tricked me into being your girlfriend AGAIN! / this time, digitally
R: sometimes you just got to move and not discuss / I’m going into a mtg / i love you
me: what if I just post this whole conversation as the blog post? / I think I'll do that
R: fine with me
me: fine. I love you back, but I’m not posting that on your wall ever. too public.

You're likely thinking one of several things after reading that exchange.

This is a major issue, and every point Jessie raises is worth discussing.
I can't believe she caved. I haven't and never will for various reasons that I will now post in the comments section of Jessie's blog.
Thank god this freak found a good guy willing to deal with her.
Where did I go wrong in raising this bizarre child...? (hi Mom!)
Are either of these people familiar with the concept of capital letters?

Or you're thinking all of the above.

I'm currently thinking that the hype/worry was far overwhelming than the reality of life in a digitally confirmed relationship. I think another gchat convo - this one with my first little sister Dani (24) explains it best:

me: I'm in a relationship on the facebook
dani: nice work
me: I'm not wildly comfortable with it
dani: why
me: I've never been in one / feels like marriage / digital marriage / now I'm going to have to blog about it...
dani: i just went into a relationship on facebook recently too / it's just like easier
me: interesting
dani: it's easier for me to link to kyle's page / and i'm proud of my relationship / and i know you are too
me: excellent points
dani: now everyone knows you are in a loving relationship
me: lovely / people have been “liking” it / that's nice / except Matt "barf"-ed it
dani: please / he is engaged / double barf
me: truth

And there you have it. Now, let the judgment begin. Whether everyone cares and there's everything to judge or no one cares and there's nothing to judge, I'm very happy I accepted.

14 Things That 20-Somethings Can Do

2011-08-26T07:00:00.002-04:00

Today's piece is inspired by a very funny essay on Thought Catalog. (Thanks to Lindsey Martin for sending it my way).

Excellent writer Ryan O'Connell has explored many aspects that make us 20-somethings inferior to the rest of the world. For this latest piece he pretends to go glass-half-full by highlighting 7 Things A 20-Something CAN Do.

I thought I'd help Ryan slash all of us out by taking the grand total from 7 to 14. Here is my own set of kudos to our more-than-capable generation. Read mine, then read Ryan's, then feel free to add your own in comments. Maybe we can get to 21 (our collective favorite age)!

1. Quit our jobs without having another job lined up

It takes guts to leave a paying job without another paying job lined up, but we 20-somethings laugh in the face of going off the grid. Unemployment? Hah! Try FUNemployement.

We won't be constrained by the man. We all paid our dues during our college internships. Now it's time for each day to be as personally and professionally fulfilling as we deserve. We don't need no stinkin' health insurance (especially if we're under 26 and can now mooch that off our parents).

2. Use Hashtags

Do you know how hard it is to take an already hysterical 140 character tweet and make it even funnier? The hashtag is the digital punchline, the golden away message of the 21st century, and we 20-somethings have a veritable degree in it. #humblebrag #whitepeopleproblems #duh - all advents of the under 30 set. You're welcome, world.

3. Acquire Debt

Give us a credit card, and we'll get 5K on it that puppy that we have zero ability to pay off in no time flat. It's easy to know how much money you have in your bank account and use only that much money to buy things. What's not easy is imagining how much money you have and spending that much, or however much what you want to buy costs - not easy for 40 year olds, that is. Mwuahaha.

4. Both Gravely Fear and Not Care At All about Turning 30

30? Ha! We laugh in its face. We're more adventurous, capable and big-picture thinking than any 20-year-olds have ever been. We elected a god-damned president, for crying out loud. 30 is the new 20 for our generation, and we welcome it with slim, toned arms.

Unleeessss it's an even numbered day...or we meet a guy who's 35...or we're about to turn 29. In that case 30 is the end of our lives. Anything we haven't done we'll never do because our lives as we know them are about to be over. Please excuse us while we go have some eggs harvested and then sign up for eHarmony.

5. Make Out In Public

Give us five vodka sodas and a dance floor/bathroom line/coat check corner and we will make magic (for ourselves). Who needs to deal with the awkward morning after conversation if you can get the whole hook-up over with that same night? Will-power is for 30-year-olds. We are democrats and we will exercise our freedom of speech in the form of passion-filled tonsil hockey because YES WE CAN!

6. Wear expensive clothes that look inexpensive

You think I got this ill-fitting grandpa sweater at a thrift shop for a buck 25? Well jokes on you! This fine knit is from a designer neither of us can pronounce, and I got it at a primo boutique for a cool $250. Why would I buy an old sweater that looks old when I can buy a new sweater that looks old?

7. Watch Jon Stewart

There are people who watch Jon Stewart and there are people who watch Jon Stewart. We 20-somethings are the latter. We watch the shit out of him, and then we watch it all again on YouTube the next day. Ask us what he said about Michelle Bachmann yesterday, because we'll quote it. Ask us who he's targeting most on Fox news, because that's who we're targeting too. Jon is not the host of a daily political satire program, he's our friend. Together we are going continue to make very smart jokes about this f-ed up world, then eventually all move to Canada.

An Open Letter to The New York Times regarding this "Stayovers" business

2011-08-24T07:00:00.000-04:00

Dear The New York Times:

Let me start by saying that I'm a big fan of your whole operation. You're doing some solid reporting on many of the world's issues under just the veil of liberalism that my coast-dwelling, 20-something peers and I appreciate.

That said, what in Tina Turner's name was that article about the "stayover" as a new form of relationship?? Did someone forget to turn in an assignment? Did you promise the Sunday Styles intern they could write a piece before Summer's end? Or is it worse than all that? Do you actually think that a "low-commitment form of cohabitation" is a new thing for the pre-married, pre-living together set? And did you actually coin a term for sleeping over at your boy/girlfriend's house?

My fear is that you actually do slash did...

If I'm reading this article correctly it is saying that people who are dating but not living together spend many nights a week sleeping over at each others' houses in the period of time before they move into the same apartment. I've gathered this fact from the following sentence: "It seems that emerging adults age 18 to 29 often spend three or four nights a week at the home of their partners on a long-term basis rather than move in together. "

These arrangements are very different from traditional cohabitation, the article says, which makes sense because cohabitation is living together and sleeping at each others' apartments is sleeping at each others' apartments. So, glad we're clear on that.

"The main difference was that stayovers formed out of convenience, whereas cohabitation tended to be more committed and directed as a possible step toward marriage or family."

Right, true. But before you're comfortable arriving at those committed steps toward marriage or family, don't you do something called dating? And during the time you're doing that thing called dating while still figuring out if you're ready to put/accept a ring on it, don't you naturally sleep at each others' respective places because sleeping together is fun? So if staying over is what all couples on a hopeful march toward living together do, then why is it suddenly a phenomenon of the 20-something set?

Here's one "clue": “Stayover couples tend to like the physical and emotional closeness of staying in with a partner rather than going out on a date,” Ms. Jamison said in a telephone interview. “But after a night in together, they could then go their separate ways.”

Oh! So stayovers are meet-ups for the sole purpose of sleeping together that do not involve traditional dates. Guys (shakes head), that's called hooking up, and it's been going on for a really long time.

Let's take a look at another one: “Even though they are staying three or more nights a week at their partner’s place, they feel very much like they’re guests there,” Ms. Jamison said. “Whereas a cereal bowl would get left in the sink at their own place, at their partners’ home they took care to put it away.”

But I put my cereal bowls away at my house and R's house because that's what clean people do. Does this mean I'm in a totally different category? Am I a Girlfriendguest? A Stayslave? A Playing House-er?

Oh wait! I didn't read down to the end yet: "While the study purported to put a name to the phenomenon and to describe it, it did not look at the overall incidence of stayovers or examine their trajectory over time. It’s possible that stayovers have been around for decades and that they exist beyond the confines of the young college-educated couples Ms. Jamison examined."

If I were to re-write this sentence it would read: But maybe everything you just read about is wrong because we didn't really do a lot of research on it, so...well...just know that.

My sarcasm-ladden point is this: If you want to write an article about how long today's couples' are waiting to move in together, awesome. I'm curious about that. If you want to write an article about the fact that people sleep together many nights a week without formalizing their relationship, also fine, but by no means news. This appears to be an article about a fun new word that means something some research has yet to really define.

So I say tisk, tisk, New York Times. You should know better than to print made up dating phenomenons because they have cute names. Or, if you don't, can I interest you in my expose on date-cations (couples are going on vacations together in mass numbers before they're married!) or my study on eye-cheaters (an undetermined percentage of men at a bar will give flirty looks to women even if those men are in relationships!!).

Fondly,
Jessie

The Checking-Out Series: Your 9-year-old self knows you very well...

2011-08-22T07:00:00.000-04:00

Today's chapter in the Checking-Out series comes from my good friend and matchmaker Clelia who finally tapped back into her childhood passions to change her path in life.

I hated the trajectory my life was on. It was just all wrong. That much I knew six months into my first job. I was working as a lawyer at a big law firm, a seemingly prestigious and high paid job that took me three very rigorous and expensive years of law school to obtain. But being a lawyer was just not right for me. I had liked law school just fine, mostly because I like school in general, but I was never overly engaged in the subject matter. I was even less enthusiastic about my law firm job – my co-workers seemed cold-hearted due to constant stress, the cases I was staffed on were uninteresting and unrelatable, and the austerity of the corporate firm environment was stifling. The best way that I can describe the way I felt about my legal career was that it was like wearing a coat that didn’t quite fit. The coat was aesthetically pleasing, expensive and others admired it, but it just did not suit me at all.

So if this trajectory is wrong, what is the right trajectory, I wondered. And can I still get on the right trajectory was my next question. The answer to at least the first question came to me about one year into my job. My mother called me one day and told me the polite version of the following: “Our house is not an f-ing storage facility, please get your massive amounts of crap out.” As a result of this directive, I returned home to the bedroom I grew up in. Somewhat of a hoarder, I have every school paper or project I ever completed sorted chronologically in boxes in the back of my closet. I pulled out these dusty boxes and inside I found pure gold from my childhood– a collection of my original poetry written in a Little Mermaid journal, a surprisingly funny cartoon series involving a chicken and his assorted animal friends, my own addition to the Berenstain Bears series (“Too Much Nintendo”!). Sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of my youth’s work, I went from nostalgic to upset. I was so creative as a kid, what happened to that person? As a kid, when someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I always answered either a writer, a children’s book author, or a teacher or college professor so I could teach about books. Where had those aspirations gone? I think they died sometime between when my well-meaning father suggested to me that Political Science or Economics were the only “useful” majors and when my equally well-meaning mother dropped the line, “When you go to law school…” for the first time.

That moment was truly an epiphany. I realized that to put myself on the right trajectory, I needed to go back to being this person who was the truest form of myself. I thought about how glimmers of this person still exist even in my business suit when I e-mail myself ideas for kids’ books or screenplays, meticulously craft and post comments on NY Times articles, or sign up for mentor activities where I can help interns with their writing.

Now that I had an idea of what direction I wanted my life to go in, I had to figure out the next step. It took about one more year to figure that out. I dabbled with the idea of getting a Ph.D in English. I also thought about just starting over completely and getting a job as an assistant to a book editor. I briefly considered the more responsible option of transitioning my legal career from the finance industry to the creative industry. In the end, I balanced my dreams and reality and I decided I would like to go into book publishing and also teach as an adjunct professor and do some creative writing on the side. I found a master’s program in Publishing and Writing at Emerson College in Boston that trains students to enter the publishing industry and also offers undergraduate teaching opportunities and writing courses. In other words, the program was perfectly tailored to my interests. I was accepted this past March.

I have a lot of friends who are unhappy in their jobs, but when asked what they want to do they say, I just don’t know what else I would do. Having been in that situation, my advice is to look back to simpler times before Blackberries or conference calls, and figure out who you were and what you loved then. Maybe your nine-year-old self has all the answers you need.

Now, I am about two weeks away from leaving my job, moving to Boston and starting grad school for the second time around. I am in way over my head in student loans, I have no idea what the future holds for me, but what I do know is that I finally feel like I am sporting a very finely tailored, sharp-looking coat that fits just right and I am absolutely delighted to be wearing it.

Keeping up a relationship after the relationship

2011-08-19T07:00:00.000-04:00

So this is interesting.

I know a couple who, upon ending their one year relationship, decided that they would commit to seeing each other for a drink or meal bi-weekly for an indefinite amount of time (yeah, it means every other week).

The idea of the arrangement stemmed from the fact that the two have very intertwined friend circles and would surely confront spending time together often in the future. So why not make those encounters intentional and avoid dealing with the awkward catch-up? Why not take the idea of "staying friends" to an institutional level by enforcing it with scheduled transition sessions?

I was pretty whoa about the whole thing.

For starters, I'm of the band-aid approach to break-ups variety. Rip it off and (respectfully) throw it out. If there's a deeper friendship there then it can certainly be explored after plenty of time passes. Any time I've tried to stay in close touch with someone immediately after a break up it's lead to additional romantic encounters that prove wholly unproductive toward the ultimate goal of not being together. (How's that for a euphemism?). I'm not saying may way is the way, but I am saying that I can't imagine having to see an ex every other week. It would be awkward. It would be painful. It would be, dare I say, a waste of time...

According to one half of the couple mentioned above, the meet-up system is effective and ultimately helpful to both parties. Yes those first sessions are a tad tough to swallow, especially if the breakup was difficult, but you do as much as you can and both come to the table with the understanding that you're doing the best you can. If it's just a quick coffee and surface level small-talk, fine. It at some point in the dinner someone gets upset, so be it. Sooner or later the relationship does grow in a different direction. Feelings will change. Awkwardness will subside.

But do they? will they? can it reeeally? I thought (to myself).

Is this one of those keep your friends close and your ex boyfriends closer? Is it built on a what- you-don't-know-can-hurt-you model? Or is it perhaps about one person instituting a system to keep the other within arms reach for an eventual let's-make-this-work-again move?

I don't know the answer (and hopefully I never will), but what say you about the idea of keeping up a relationship after the relationship is over? What's worked, what hasn't and what would you be willing to try?

Is bickering just another form of communication?

2011-08-17T09:00:00.003-04:00

When lacking for people I legitimately know upon which to base my blog posts, I often turn to people I illegitimately know (read: reality TV stars). I possess an above average ability to "feel like I've known you my whole life" (read: judge you super quickly) making reality television a delightful source of new best friends.

The newest additions to my circle are the stars of Planet Green's hit series THE FABULOUS BEEKMAN BOYS. By Planet Green I mean the Discovery Channel network dedicated to all things earth-friendly, and by hit series I mean the only legitimate show they're airing.

The FBB's are Josh Kilmer-Purcell and Dr. Brent Ridge - a gay couple who left Manhattan for a life as farmers of a gorgeous Victorian property upstate. I know what you're thinking and no, I don't know how you've gotten by without this show in your life.

Now to the point.

Josh and Brent have been together for something like 10 years, and they have a shall-we-say fiery relationship. Brent likes things to be a very certain way all the time. Josh likes things to be the opposite of whatever way Brent decides. You get the picture.

I often watch the show and think, god, if that were my relationship I would want out. Who wants to argue that much? Where's the fun in that? Isn't it damaging? Doesn't it leave mini marks that cut away at the relationship? Or is it all just surface frustration that doesn't really mean their relationship is in jeopardy?

Then Brent answered my question.

"For Josh and me bickering is just a form of communication."

HHmm. Oookay...

I think what Brent is saying is that because of their specific personalities and the way those personalities mesh with each other, bickering is natural, common, and not ultimately harmful. It's how they talk to each other. It's likely how they talk to other people in their lives. It doesn't come from a place of true anger or upset, it's just how they express themselves.

...Which is all fine and well except I personally think they could get by without it, and be a happier couple. I personally think bickering is a choice, and not a good one.

I've known lots of people in my life who are on the more volatile side. They get riled up easily; they express themselves quickly and without much thought; they feel something and then they say something. That's essentially what Josh and Brent having going on, and because they're both quick tongued and tempered they let each other off the hook. It's sort of a boy-who-cried wolf situation of the relationship arguments variety. If you bicker all the time each individual bicker loses its meaning. You're not really angry.

I think this is good because the fights aren't as severe as they may seem to the average viewer, but I think this is ultimately bad because each person gets desensitized to the real feelings of the other.

...Which brings me to my ultimate point: bickering can be controlled.

I'm still under a year into this healthy relationship thing, so I don't pretend to preach the gospel, but I do know that I sometimes feel myself want to say something nagging to R about an issue that does not requires comment. For example: I like to be very quiet in the morning as I'm getting ready for work. I live with roommates and even though we're all awake around the same time, I like to keep things around a whisper as I go about my AM tasks. I don't know why, I just do. R does not feel the same about morning time. He likes to talk and watch TV and discuss upcoming plans at yell volume from the bedroom where he is watching TV way too loudly for my taste to the bathroom where I am silently applying my bronzer. In reality, he is not loud. In my reality, he is.

If R and I were Josh and Brent this would be a major, major source of bickering. Every single morning I (as Brent) would yell at R (he has to be Josh) for every too-loud move I perceive that he is making. R would in turn snap back at me for snapping at him. This would then progress into a bigger bicker about how I'm so demanding and unreasonable, how he can't respect my wishes and on and on and on.

That fight has not and will not happen because I've decided to get over my bizarre morning issue.
And in doing so, here is what I've realized about making the decision to NOT bicker:

A. It can be done: By "it" I mean the decision to not snap. I think people of the bickering persuasion feel like they will absolutely burst if they don't get their point across. Turns out, you don't.

B. I feel better when I don't do it: Bickering is somewhat instant "gratification." You feel relief after you say your very important piece but then not good at all when it leads to a bigger fight you never intended to have.

C. You realize after not doing it that the thing you were about to snap about was/is subjective making it not really your right to yell about it. This one's tricky. If someone does something either undeniably wrong or very bothersome to you for really legitimate reasons, have at it (respectfully). But if you like dishwasher loaded in a very specific way that your boyfriend can't seem to get right, get over it.

And that we conclude the very important lesson we've learned from two gay men on a fledgling cable network reality show.

For more on the most significant stuff of life watch The Fabulous Beekman Boys whenever it airs on whatever channel Planet Green is in your area. And no, they didn't pay me to write this post, I just actually like the show that much...which R has graciously decided to let go ;)

The Checking-Out Series: The Big Problem with Big Corporations

2011-08-15T14:06:00.005-04:00

This latest post in The Checking-Out Series comes from FailedAtForty - a friend and blogger who is a bit outside the 20-Nothings age-range. Her thoughts come from being in the corporate world for her entire career, but the feelings are the same as many of us who have just started. Enjoy her story below, and please keep the submissions coming to 20Nothings@gmail.com.

Several months ago, I dropped out of corporate America...again. I couldn't take the dissonance any longer. There was just something about the experience that felt demeaning, degrading or, at the very least, demoralizing. It no longer nurtured my passions nor valued the tremendous experience, creativity and strategy I brought to my work. A short list of my frustrations might include peeing in a cup, blocked websites, row after row of grey cubicles, stiff business attire, and the constant sense of urgency that seems to fall always on the individual contributors. Let me go on...

In order to be successful, big corporations need operational excellence. Everyone's an executor, even up to some surprisingly high levels. The larger the corporation, the narrower the role and set of skills. Conversely, my mind wants lateral movement and a wide creative berth.

Further, corporations are now set up to make it difficult to add full-time employees (FTEs) -- thus, if one is able to get permission to hire a new FTE, that hiring leader will most certainly try for the highest possible title or pay grade, meanwhile expecting the person who fills it to think strategically, tactically and do an enormous amount of administrative work. In other words, job dissatisfaction is surely only months away.

The quarterly drive for profits in public companies can lead to mixed messages, inconsistent policies and self-defeating decisions.

Finally, companies issue laptops and data phones, all in an effort to make workers more efficient (read: hook up the IV and suck out as much of one's life as possible).

These conditions work for some people; in fact, some thrive under such conditions. I am not one of them. I hated that feeling that I was going to have to be someone other than who I am to be successful, that soul-sucking sensation that -- as a friend so eloquently put it -- "my personality was too big for the room"...er, cubicle.

There were things about my role that I loved! I loved engaging my creative and problem-solving skills, doing amazing work and wowwing my clients. Still, too often, it seemed success had more to do with politics or kissing ass than doing great work or pleasing clients.

I worked in a place where there were reviews twice a year, where one could labor for months under the false assumption that one's work was noticed, appreciated and respected. Yet in a "development" culture, reviews mean that one is essentially told how much one sucks.

I remember once responding dejectedly to a friend's question about how work was going. When I described the current office situation, she began using technical psychological terms that she uses in her practice as a licensed therapist. "Wow," she exclaimed, "you're working in an environment where triangulation is encouraged and they 'kitchen sink' any issues they have with you. That's not a healthy culture." You can imagine how validating it was to hear that from an objective professional!

It's been more than six months since I dropped out. I've spent time with my family, done some soul searching, researched opportunities, networked my ass off and, at present, I'm back at work as a contractor at a major corporation.

Therein lies the conundrum: I don't want to do it for long, but I know this world and it's easy money for me... So this time it's on my terms: I clock in and out, work just forty hours per week -- and, perhaps more importantly, I leave my laptop at the office and don't give coworkers my mobile number. I don't think about this job outside of the office. I'm still searching for the right role or opportunity for me. It's not in the corporate world but, right now, I've managed to find work that feels natural for me, at which I perform well and that allows me the work-life balance a single mother needs.

Just don't count on me to stay too long!

L.A. 1 Year Decision Anniversary: The NY/LA non-rivalry

2011-08-12T14:35:00.003-04:00

One year ago today I made the final decision to move to L.A. Around May of last year I made a 85% decision in my head that the move could/should/would happen by September 1st, but it wasn't until a real job opportunity presented that I set the actual date.

It was on this exact day last year that it all came together, and in magican LaLa Land fashion, the moment was sealed with a celebrity kiss (of potential death).

I was sitting on a bench at a shopping center on Sunset and Crescent Heights - the one with the Burke Williams Spa and Trader Joes - when I placed the call home to my Dad to share the big news. The sun was shining. The palm trees were swaying. I was wearing my giant aviator sunglasses even though I was sitting directly in the shade. And just as my inner pre-teen gushed the totally 90's movie line, "Daddy! It's official! I'm moving to L.A.!!" I noticed Dustin Hoffman walk past me, smile a knowing smile, and make a half-laugh half-huff that crystal clearly meant, "good luck, kid."

I fully intend to recount this story to Dustin Hoffman on set when he stars as the father in the screenplay I'm currently writing. I'll let you know how that goes.

But onto the point of this post - the infamous New York/LA rivalry.

Before moving here I wrote/talked/thought endlessly about all the makes this city suck. Upon telling people I'd made the decision to move I hear groans, moans, and other audible eye-rolls about my decision to abandon the cultural center of the world for the land of plastic and make believe. (Most) New Yorkers hate Los Angeles, and they're happy to tell you why that's the correct and only acceptable position to take.

But here's the thing I've learned after almost a year in L.A. No one here really cares.

Allow me to better illustrate this by likening it to another experience I've had with the concept of deep-seeded rivalries.

As you know, I was (and will forever be) a Boston College student. And as you may or may not know, Boston College students HATE Notre Dame. It's not just about the long-standing football rivalry, it's about the entire school. We believe everyone who elected to attend that archaic institution is an evil fool. I once declared that I would never, under any circumstances date anyone from Notre Dame, to which all my friends replied, "duh."

The list of grievances BC has against ND is long and detailed. They don't have co-ed dorms. They have curfews. They are in the middle of no where. Their football team sucks. They're all insanely conservative. The list goes on and on, all amounting to the belief that BC is superior to ND, and that no one in their right mind could think otherwise.

"They must hate their lives when they come visit our campus," a friend of mine once said.

But, see, here's the thing. They don't. They don't really care at all. Sure they get really pissed off when we beat their sports team, but other than that they're pretty happy with life at ND because they chose it. Chances are they don't have a long list of grievances against BC because they don't care enough to make one. They have their life, and they're fine with them. Most of the time I bet they don't think about the fact that B.C. even exists.

I think a similar thing is going on between NY and LA. Ask any former New Yorker how they feel about their adopted life out west, and they'll list the things they miss: the bagels, the pizza, the fact that you can walk from bar-to-bar, some of the culture that makes New York so special. Some might say they prefer New York to L.A. for various reasons, but the concept that New York is a place worth living and L.A. is a wasteland of idiots in cars doesn't really permeate here. In fact, more often than not you'll hear, "Yeah, New York is amazing, but I could never go back to living there. It's too packed, too cold, and too expensive."

They're not saying L.A. is therefore wholly better or "the best." Frankly, they don't think about it all that much. And they're not nearly as angry about the idea of New York as New Yorkers tend to be about L.A.

So, if you ask me, that's not much of a rivalry. I used to live in New York, and I loved every minute of it. I still believe New York City is the cultural capital of the universe. But I really love L.A. too. It's just that now that I live here I don't feel the need to defend that against everything I left back East.

Maybe that's because when you know you're not "the best" there's no sense in fighting? Or maybe it's because some people in some places aren't concerned about whether or not they're "the best." They're more concerned with being happy in their location of choice.

What do you say, New York and L.A.?

Why you and your boyfriend work at the same place, even if you and your boyfriend don't work at the same place

2011-08-11T14:12:00.005-04:00

I’m bumped into my roommate Mike last weekend on his way back from a run.

“Oh…hey…you’re…here,” he said through gasps of air, “Good. I have a blog post idea.”

(Implied inside that statement was a how are you?? Great to see you?? How’ve you been??)

“The idea is that when you’re in a relationship you work together by default – even though you don’t work together technically.”

“Like, to be a supportive person you have to know the other person’s work place so well that you practically work there yourself?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what he means,” R chimed in. The look on his face implied that Mike was right about the fact and even more right about it being an involved enough issue for a blog post.

But I need to back up a bit to best explain this whole deal.

The reason I say I “bumped into my roommate” and he said, “Oh, you’re here,” is because for the past 18 weeks, I hadn’t been.

In late April I started managing a daily web series through my current job. The show shot every day from approx. 3pm to 10pm. Because I am a full-time employee of the company I also had to work my actual job (branded content stuff), so it was arranged that I come into work between 10 and 11am. The show shot Sunday night through Thursday night so I also worked from 4pm to 10pm every Sunday. But again, because I have my usual job with the company, I still worked Fridays from 10am to 5pm (or later depending on my work load). So to recap that’s Sunday 4pm-10pm, Monday through Thursday 10am - 10pm and Friday 10am to 5pm. Math is not my strong suit, so let’s just say that’s too many hours per week…for 16 weeks…which is 4 months, or in this specific case, Summer.

My attitude about this situation was...challenging. By this I mean that it was challenge to be dealing with this weekly schedule, and that I was extremely challenging as a result.

I saw R when I could throughout the week, but it was usually for 1-2 hour catch-ups before I fell asleep mid Breaking Bad episode (we're finally caught up!!). And by "catch-ups" I mean bitch sessions about the frustrations of my days.

...Which is precisely where Mike's blog post suggestion comes in.

If you work a typical 9-6 schedule, 5 days a week you are spending about 40% of your waking life at work (I'm assuming 7 hours of sleep per night). If you work the schedule of a 20-something American (I'm going to call that 50 hours a week for the sake of an average) you are spending about 50% of your life at work. I won't do the numbers on the percentage of my life spent at work these past months, but Mike and his boyfriend John can often match if not top them at their respective places of work. So to say the details of our jobs - the people we work with, the office politics, the specific projects - are a significant part of our lives would be an understatement. And to say that we don't need/rely on/demand that the people we date know those people, politics and details would be a lie.

I go to R for advice on how to handle challenging conversations at my office. If he isn't familiar with the players at play, he can't provide the most helpful advice. R comes to me to pre-pitch his show concepts (he works in TV development). If I'm not knowledgeable on the mandates of his network or the tastes of his co-workers, I can't give him an honest critique. It's not just being able to say, "yeah, ________ is being a bitch about that, you're so right babe, and you always will be." It's "getting it" to the point of caring about it to a degree that respects that fact that 40% percent of your partners life is spent in that world.

Ergo, for all intents and purposes - when you're in a relationship you essentially work together.

Or, more specifically, when you're a work-obsessed person in a relationship with an equally work-obsessed person you're forced to work together...

Ugh. I think it's that.

My annual birthday blog post

2011-08-07T15:14:00.004-04:00

Do you only technically turn a year older at midnight in the time-zone where you where born? So, if you're born in London but live in New York should you officially celebrate your birthday at 7pm the day before your date of birth?

The thought only occurred to me today. Today, for the first time in my now 28 years I opened my eyes in the same time zone where I opened my eyes for the very first time. It's possible that this is the most official birthday I've had since that very first one...which adds another milestone to the long list I've racked up since this same day last year .

Every year on my birthday I go back through this blog's archive and re-read the August 7th posts I've written. It's a bizarre trip down my public memory lane. Every year I go in thinking I'll read what that ridiculous 25-year-old wrote and laugh at how clueless she was, but every year I come to the somewhat calming realization that I write the same thing every time:

At 25: What's Your Scary Age? 25 though still holds a certain weight in my head – like this marker of actual adulthood signifying the end of getting away with blatant immaturity (in public). I feel like at 25 I have to sit myself down and say, “Okay, where are we are? Oats, sewn; money, squandered; gateway drugs, tried; slippery sloap through gateway, avoided; and metaphoric notches in (twin) bedposts, carved. Good work, now stop blacking out and start saving money.” It’s like from here on out I don’t have to move forward in one, focused direction, but I can’t blatantly move backward. I’ve made some solid ground and lived a life of which 80% could be shared with my parents; now my life’s purpose is to not fuck it up. 25, the year I do as I say and not as I want.

At 26: Mom, Me and Choice - We are the sum of our choices – trite but true - from as early on as we understand the concept of choice. But I think we sometimes forget that in choosing one thing, we're also choosing not another. This isn't an argument against having "it all" (there's no argument, you can't -- but that's for another day). This is just a newly 26-year-old woman (who still feels like she should be referred to as "girl") realizing what she loves about her life but what she could and might soon leave behind now that with each passing year the future changes focus.

At 27: Precisely What's So Scary About My Scary Age - I want to have that pressure of feeling like there are items to check off in my 20s. I’m excited about drawing lines in the sand and pacing to meet them. The whole idea of the gravity of this point in life is exhilarating. It’s not my scary age because I suspect I’ll find my first grey hair before I turn 2-8. It was never about that. It’s about the fact that the number 2-7- and where it falls in the scheme of life charges me with a motivation to commit to my passions and dive at the risks that requires.

(There are many things I am not, but painfully self aware isn't one of them.)

And now at 28:

I've been thinking a lot about who I am versus where I am and where I've been - circumstance versus self, if you will. This week - as if in preparation for this very post-writing purge - I had a mini break down about the degree to which my circumstances (long, exhausting hours at a job in my marketing/branding career) are preventing me from reaching my true goals (a side or fully sustainable career as a writer). I live 3,000 miles from my family to pursue those goals. I moved away from my very best friends to make them a reality. I sacrifice social life and personal time to write when I'm not at work. My circumstances affect my every day.

But I think part of being a mature person with their eyes squarely set on the prize has to do with not letting your circumstances bleed into your self. My circumstances are frustrating; my self remains hopeful. My circumstances have taken me very far from home; my self remains a fast-paced New Yorker with her family and friends on speed-dial. My circumstances make diving into a social life in L.A. harder because my time is so crunched; my self knows when to close the laptop and go to Wednesday night trivia with the gang.

When I look back at what I aimed to accomplished from 2-7 to 2-8 I see reason to be frustrated. I wanted to write more, produce more, network more. But what I all-too-often forget is that progress in your circumstance is one thing - your title, your salary, your number of books published. Progress in your self is something very different.

I moved clear across the country. I started a new job in a very different part of world I'd worked in prior. I learned the ins and outs of the industry I've always aspired to join. I now know what steps I need and want to take for at leas the next few years. And I met the guy with whom I've had the most meaningful relationship of my life.

As I read back on that list it looks far more meaningful than selling a script or staging a play. And it looks like all the elements of that self and her life at 28 is what I need to either change my circumstances to better match my dreams or deal with whatever circumstances I meet along the path to making the come true.

Either way, I'm happy, grateful, and lucky at 28 years old. Today I will have a gigantic, Mexican brunch with my L.A. family and a romantic, seafood dinner with R.

Tomorrow I will re-read this post, laugh at how deep I get after one bloody mary, and start freaking out about the fact that 30 is only two blog posts away...