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Can I interest you in a tasty Douche Bag?

16 Oct

Hey, everyone! Gothamist has the thrilling true story of my adventures in foodstuffs last night. So exciting!!! Here’s the gist:

My boyfriend Brian and I stumbled into the 215 Fine Foods bodega on 4th Ave. in Park Slope last night in search of snacks after trivia at the Sackett bar. Imagine how delighted we were to find sandwich No. 4—the Douche Bag—on the menu.

Remember when “douche bag” was like, not something you could say in mixed company? Or at all, really? (In the ’90s, my Spanish-teacher mom once gave someone detention for calling a guy in her class a douche bag.) Now we not only bandy it about to describe brokers and frat boys but also SANDWICHES. WE NAME SANDWICHES AFTER VAGINAL CLEANSERS. (In other news, the Douche Bag actually sounds pretty good. Though, it does seem like a missed opportunity for tuna, mayo and vinegar on super-yeasty bread. Ba-zing!)

Gothamist went back to the source for additional reporting and also noticed some (possibly even) worse sandwich names, like the Baby Gravy (which is what I have started calling Brian). (I’d like to note, also, that the peeps at the 215 deli are very nice and helpful!)

Enjoy (being a woman)!

Glamour picks up Jezebel

1 Nov

How exciting! Glamour‘s website references the Jezebel piece in a post called, “When Dating, Do You Let Looks Hold You Back?” One thing that stuck out is this:

[Jen] also lives in NYC, which I’m now convinced makes dating 5x harder.

As someone who also lives in New York, I have only one correction: I think it probably makes dating 10x harder. Like, fer reals. I used to think that I was so lucky to live in a city when it came to dating (and I am NOT hating on my city; I am a New-York-o-phile through and through). I just didn’t understand how people in suburbs ever met anyone, thought that if I lived anywhere other than a city I’d wither and die a hermit–and not even a hermit with cats because they make my head swell up like you ain’t never seen. (And, I’m sorry, they give me the creeps just a touch.)

But then I was in a restaurant in the Berkshires once and saw a couple on a date. And I realized: When you live in a small town, there are fewer options. But suddenly, instead of being a drawback, that seemed like a good thing. There are fewer options! So maybe when people meet and like each other enough, they, I don’t know, keep going out. Whereas in New York, there’s always the potential of something better around the corner.And if you’re online, forget about around the corner, there’s a thumbnail just below the guy you’re currently looking at who is probably the man of your dreams. And if he’s not, then hell, there’s a guy under him! I mean, my god–there are people (not me, certainly not me) who line up windows of Gilt Groupe and Ok Cupid and go shopping for fab reduced designer shoes and boys at the very same time! (Ok, me.)

Wow, was that a rant? I think I’m just wired. 14-hour workday + amazing response on Jezebel + Cookie Crisp (don’t judge) dipped in Nutella (well, whatever passes for Nutella at Whole Foods) = giddy. So.

Right. the Glamour piece. Exciting! I’m going to go prep for my inevitable sugar crash by crawling into bed and watching reruns of Family Ties (which ohmaga, Alex P. Keaton, where have you been all my life?).

Night, night.

PS: That picture? That’s my view. I wanted to give you a feel for New York. All those cars down there are filled with boys!

Hello, Jezebel!

1 Nov

And welcome, new site visitors! Take your coat off and stay a while, won’t you?

As many of you already know, Jezebel has reprinted my story on plus-size dating with Jen Abramowitz. Tee! And also yay! And many many exclamation points!

It’s been a trippy couple of weeks re: size and dating and fat and bigotry and awesomeness and terribleness out there in the blogosphere, so I’m glad that Jen’s voice can be part of that discussion. story pickup in the Health News.

16 Jul

Just a neat little run-down.

Pickup addendum

28 Jun

Here’s a pickup I blogged a while ago, from the Times Union. It’s lovely in the way a lot of the sites that picked up my essay have been, but I’m re-noting it now because it’s gotten some comments. It continues to blow my mind the way certain people view me in light of my essay. Everyone is of course entitled to his or her opinion, it’s just been kind of trippy to read that I am conceited, shallow, hypocritical or that I don’t sound fun to be with. Gah! I object! I am tremendous fun to be with!

Ok, ok, I’m digressing. Anyway, I can see where certain readers are coming from (and it’s important to say these kinds of comments are far fewer than the supportive ones, the readers who say the story resonated with them, which is of course my hope), and I’m glad people are responding regardless of what they have to say. But I thought it was kind of obvious that I am not HAPPY that I have walls up, that this is in fact something I am working on. Writing is a process that can elucidate the process we go through in life.  My guardedness does not come from a place of superiority but extreme vulnerability. (Unless the guy’s a jerk, then yes, the other thing.) I find it so baffling to have my insecurity attacked. It’s a defense mechanism, people!

Anyway, this first struck me when AOL picked up the story and more than 500 people commented on it. This Times Union item reminded me of it.

The sun is finally out. Get out there and enjoy it.

xo c.

First well-known, then famous…

24 May

…now popular! The 17-year-old me is ecstatic right now. (The 32-year-old me isn’t unhappy either.)

Breaking: I am on FIRE!

24 May

I always had an inkling, but it’s nice to see it in print. Tee.