If we’ve learned one thing from Manhattan-based sitcoms, it’s that living and dating in the city presents a unique set of problems. You have no time. You have no money. You have all your teeth, but–though this may have given you a leg up in Tennessee–it means nothing when you’re surrounded by actual models. You need at least two more roommates to make your rent, and those bedbugs that came with the apartment don’t count. Charles Shaw has replaced Ben & Jerry as the man in your life because “Two Buck Chuck” is the fiscally responsible choice when a pint of Cherry Garcia costs $7 at the convenience store on your block. And if you drink enough wine it tastes like love. Continue reading
Clearly Sarah Koenig does not read my blog because she opens episode 7 by saying “cootchie” five times, followed by the word “concocted.” Maybe podcasts seem like the type of medium that would attract a more sophisticated audience, but doesn’t Sarah Koenig know that her listeners’ minds are in the gutter? If Sarah Koenig read my blog she would also know that making two episodes of season 2 in one week (4x her bi-weekly promise) is unacceptable when Adnan Syed was on the stand a mere 200 miles south in Baltimore. Okay, I don’t think Adnan was ever technically put on the stand, but maybe I would know that if Sarah Koenig had stuck around to cover the rest of the hearing. Continue reading
If you were wondering how big Bowe Bergdahl’s ego must be to pull a “Jason Bourne” (his words—not mine) in Afghanistan, he answers it in the latest episode of Serial: 380 pages. That’s how long Bergdahl’s statement is about his time in the Taliban’s custody.
Let’s put that into perspective. The Da Vinci Code is 454 pages. Pride and Prejudice: 360 pages. The Hobbit: 304 pages. Bowe Bergdahl’s statement is 4 pages longer than To Kill A Mockingbird. Seems like a lot for someone who was blindfolded for the greater part of 5 years.
In episode 6, Sarah Koenig talks to a lot of guys who knew Bergdahl before he went rogue. By all accounts, Bergdahl was a great soldier. He memorized the handbooks, cleaned his weapons, and brought snacks for his buddies. If the U.S. army were a PE class, Bergdhal was every team captain’s first pick.
One might describe Bergdahl as an introvert, but he insists that he was just playing it safe. He knew that the best way not to rub anyone the wrong way was to stay quiet and keep to himself. He observed from the sidelines. Sarah Koenig says he was the perfect house guest.
A Valentine’s Day poem:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Watching Netflix is cheaper
Than dinner for two.
Thank you, thank you. I’m clearly not bitter at all. It’s just that Valentine’s Day sucks. Valentine’s Day is the worst day of the year for single women and also everyone else. It’s too much pressure for couples (i.e. “What if this is too much? What if this isn’t enough? What if he forgets all together?”), and it’s obviously no fun for single people.
(and I actually had a boyfriend when I tweeted that)
In the Netflix documentary Making a Murderer, an NBC Dateline producer says, “Right now murder is hot.” I’m not sure that this woman knows what “hot” means, because on the scale of things that are incredibly un-hot, murder falls somewhere between peach fuzz mustaches and amateur taxidermists. Murder trials are “in” right now, though. Just look at the success of Serial, Making a Murderer, and The Jinx.
From the beginning of Serial, Adnan Syed’s story has really resonated with me. Maybe it’s because I so value my freedom. Just kidding. It’s obviously because I have a soft spot for first-generation Americans (re: every boyfriend I’ve ever had). That’s probably why it has been so hard for me to adjust to season 2 of Serial. I’m not as invested in Bowe Bergdahl’s case. I miss the ole Woodlawn crew.
But the gang got back together for Adnan’s hearing. It’s like a Real Housewives reunion. Hey, since Sarah Koenig didn’t stick around for the end of the trial, maybe Andy Cohen can host it. Continue reading
Think about your favorite hole-in-the-wall pizza place, the one you order from every week. Imagine that it suddenly becomes popular. You don’t even have to convince your friends to eat there anymore so that you have someone to talk to about it. They all love it as much as you do.
But then something changes. Maybe the chef can’t handle the pressure of millions of customers and takes on too big of a menu. Maybe the way she used to make the pizza was sort of illegal and now that she’s famous she has to follow the rules. Or maybe the pizza just doesn’t work without the ingredients she used last time. Either way, the quality isn’t as good as it used to be. When Thursday comes around, you aren’t even excited about your weekly pizza anymore. Sometimes it takes you a whole day to finish. Your friends are like, “Lucy, why did you make me order this? This pizza sucks!” You keep eating it anyway, though, in hopes that one week it will taste the way you remember it.
Then one Thursday morning–with no notice–you call to order your pizza, and they say that they’re only delivering every other Thursday now. The chef says she is going to start getting better ingredients from people who really know about pizza. The ingredients are going to be so good that it’s going to take her two weeks to collect them all. But she promises it will be worth the wait. Two weeks later, your pizza shows up. You wake up 30 minutes early so that you can walk to work and eat it during your commute. That’s how excited you are.
Alternate title: Snow Diggity
28: Hours since Mayor de Blasio declared a Winter Weather Emergency in New York City.
85 million: People in the path of Blizzard Jonas.
30: Inches of snow predicted in southern New York.
26.8: Actual inches of snowfall in Manhattan.
16: Emergency alerts on my phone from Notify NYC.
11: Texts from my grandmother asking if I’m alive.
500: People in line at Trader Joe’s on Friday night.
4: Free scones the guy at the coffee shop by my apartment gave me since they were closing early.
5: Minutes it took to regain feeling in my fingers after writing this. Continue reading
Last weekend I had a friend over for
a glass two bottles of wine in my new apartment. We discussed the oddities of being twentysomethings; how weird it is that people we know are having babies ON PURPOSE; the perils of being fat and broke, which–in the scheme of things–neither of us is; and recent dates we’ve been on…or lack there of. Taking advantage of the opportunity to show off what a cool, open-minded New Yorker I am, I said that I had just created a profile on Tinder. “Tinder?” she responded, in a tone that I can only describe as “What is this, 2014?” I might as well have said, “I still pull my hair through a cap, and tomorrow I’m getting my first diaphragm!”
There I was, thinking I was this modern woman, when really I was your grandfather who still mail orders two DVDs from Netflix every week because he doesn’t know about online streaming.
I’m sort of kidding. I didn’t really believe Tinder was a hot new way of meeting Mr. Right, or Mr. Right Now, or experimenting, or whatever I’m supposed to be doing at this point in my life. But I did think it was still relevant.
On Thursday, Sarah Koenig said bye weekly episodes in favor of bi-weekly episodes. She made a similar pun on the podcast but it fell flat. Sort of like when I was dating an Indian guy and I went out on a limb with “sorry I’m not sari” and he didn’t get it. It’s a joke meant for print.
Koenig also recently spoke out against people who accuse her of being in love with Adnan Syed. I see why that might be offensive, but come on, Koenig. Can you really blame us for wondering if you wanted to taste that forbidden fruit? Isn’t it every little girl’s dream to fall in love with a convict and then draw enough attention to his case through a Peabody Award-winning podcast that he is granted a new hearing and released just in time for your fairy tale wedding? It’s the premise of, like, every chivalric romance.
Plus she’s gotta give the public some credit for refraining from saying she wanted Adnan in her “kuchi tent.” It’s what everyone was thinking the second she said a word that sounds like “cootchie” on an NPR podcast. And anyone who says that isn’t what they were thinking is a liar. But I guess I should recap last week’s episode now. Continue reading
In 2006, Abercrombie & Fitch had a gray t-shirt that said “Single and Ready to Mingle” in brown, curly font across the chest. When my 8th grade boyfriend Pablo Gibbs (née Gomez) and I broke up, I wore said t-shirt to school the very next day. I can’t remember if I bought the t-shirt preemptively or if it belonged to one of my step-sisters, but I bore the words like a badge of honor that told the world I was on the market. In this context, “on the market” means “able to spare a slow dance at the next mixer.” Things were simpler then. ISIS wasn’t a threat, and I wore a size 2. A breakup was painless enough that I was ready to wear a t-shirt about it less than 24 hours later. Fast forward 10 years, and I’m not so stoked to “mingle.” After collaborating with 3 of my girlfriends, here is a list of 25 things single women are actually ready to do. Continue reading