There’s already a marriage clock, a career clock, a biological clock. Sometimes being a woman feels like standing in the lobby of a hotel, looking at the dials depicting every time zone in the world behind the front desk – except they all apply to you, and all at once.
If you have to ask someone to change, to tell you they love you, to bring wine to dinner, to call you when they land, you can’t afford to be with them.
As most doctors will tell you, cleansing is ridiculous. You know what’s been around longer than that state-of-the-art juicer? Your kidneys. And your liver. Still, the cleanse has recalibrated my definition of a splurge.
“Hey there.’ I cleared my throat. ‘How are you?’
Incidentally, this is an unacceptable answer to that question.”
Life starts out with everyone clapping when you take a poo and goes downhill from there.
You know what they say: ‘Why sit at a table that doesn’t have key lime pie on it if you don’t have to?’
I love to bake, so I made vanilla bean and blueberry muffins for sick hospital children. Just kidding! All of that is true except the sick children part.
Are there moments when I see unrequited crushes or ex-boyfriends slow dancing with their dates and kind of want to stab myself in the spleen with a salad fork? Yeah, sure.
Ah, the power of two. There’s nothing quite like it. Especially when it comes to paying utility bills, parenting, cooking elaborate meals, purchasing a grown-up bed, jumping rope and lifting heavy machinery. The world favors pairs. Who wants to waste the wood building an ark for singletons?
It takes a level of creative depression to hear ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ and weep.
As we grow up, it feels like you should either invite people into your life or not. There should be fewer and fewer instances of friends you ‘can only take in small doses.’
I hope to one day co-sign a lease with another person but, well, it doesn’t plague me that I have yet to do so. Put it this way: I’ve never had to violently tug at my own pillow at 2 A.M. to get myself to stop snoring.
As most New Yorkers have done, I have given serious and generous thought to the state of my apartment should I get killed during the day.
In every woman’s wardrobe, there are certain accessories that cannot be separated from their back stories.
Unless we’re talking about old-school, witchcraft-trial violence, can we please phase out the phrase ‘girl crush?’ While we’re at it, if we can axe ‘like, total girl crush’ unless Total Girl Crush is the name of a fizzy soft drink, in which case I’ll take two, thank you.
Stop making excuses. No one’s that busy at work. No one’s allergic to whipped cream. There are to cell phones in Sweden. But most people don’t get lucky. They get human. They get crushes. This means you irrationally mortgage what little logic you own to pay for this one thing. This relationship is an impulse buy, and you’ll figure out if it’s worth it later.
I think the rule of thumb should be this: if you preface a sentence about a friend with the phrase, ‘I love X, but… ‘ more than once in any conversation, you should stop hanging out with them.
Ladies. Large masses of girls are often prone to this salutation. I hate being mollified with this unsolicited “ladies” business. I know we’re all women. I am conscious of my breasts. Do I have to be conscious of yours as well? Do men do this? Do they go, “Men: Meet for ribs in the shed after the game. Keg beer, raw eggs, and death metal only.” I would imagine not.
You feel like telling him you’re not single in the way that he thinks you’re single. After all, you have yourself.
I think a lot of humor is about distracting yourself. Pretend you’re not trying to make it funny. Because for some reason the effort to be funny smells like sulphur in our culture.
Sometimes in New York, you’re walking down the street and you realize there’s a girl walking in front of you whose thighs you could hit a golf ball through, and maybe that makes you depressed.
I thought of a high school report I did on the Belgian artist Rene Magritte and a quote I once read from him, something about his favorite walk being the one he took around his own bedroom. He said that he never understood the need for people to travel because all the poetry and perspective you’re ever going to get you already posses. Anais Nin had the same idea. We see the world as we are. So if it’s the same brain we bring with us every time we open our eyes, what’s the difference if we’re looking at an island cove or a pocket watch?
I thought we had reached an understanding, the institution of marriage and I. Weddings are like the triathalon of female friendship: the Shower, the Bachelorette Party, and the Main Event. It’s the Iron Woman and most people never make it through. They fall of their bikes and choke on ocean water.
I thought I’d had another few decades before my noise complaint years.
Who do you have to sleep with to get laid in this town?
There’s an ‘Everything must go!’ emotional liquidation feel to the end of your twenties, isn’t there? What will happen if we turn thirty and we’re not ‘ready?’ You don’t feel entirely settled in any aspect of your life, even if you are on paper.
Your Heart Will Heal—A Gentle Guided Journal For Getting Over Anyone, by Chrissy Stockton, will help you uncover inner peace and the strength to move on. Process every stage of your breakup: shock, denial, grief, sadness, insecurity, and anger while feeling supported and loved through your pain. Make this guided journal your trusted friend during your journey to feeling whole again.