Today I went to the movies near Lincoln Center and saw the romantic comedy Something Borrowed. It’s based on a book series I won’t ever read.
This was for a review I’m writing. Usually, I go to screenings a few weeks before a movie hits theaters, but this one’s already out. So I had to go to one of the ticket machines and pay my admission. If anyone had been there to judge, I might have wanted to say, “I’m getting paid to do this. I wouldn’t see this movie of my own volition.”
I wouldn’t have said it, but I might have wanted to.
The theater was full of women and sensitive Jewish men who will see anything with their women. I found a good seat right in the middle, two seats down from this women who was also there alone. She was eating a sandwich she’d brought from a deli and had four or five shopping bags around her seat.
Gretchen Rubin, author of The Happiness Project, recently interviewed Mindy Kaling of The Office. I’m a huge Mindy Kaling/Kelly Kapoor fan and am hoping to ingratiate myself to her via Twitter someday. (Start small!)
Kaling had some great advice on keeping things in perspective:
Around Thanksgiving, I wrote about how the smell of pumpkin is surprisingly arousing to men. Because nothing says “Let’s get it on!” like overeating with your family.
A few weeks ago, YourTango asked if I’d like to review Eau Flirt, a pumpkin-scented perfume designed to make men go crazy. Note: Most of the men I come into contact with on a daily basis are halfway there already. It has nothing to do with me.
Despite my not being a girly girl or single – not to mention that I’m dating someone who dislikes perfume – I gave it a shot.
If you read the whole thing and leave a comment on the article, you may win a bottle of Eau Flirt of your own. Here’s an excerpt:
Harvey Prince put research into practice with Eau Flirt, a perfume with pumpkin and lavender notes (both proven olfactory aphrodisiacs) that “men subconsciously associate with happy, positive and stimulating memories.”
Since 2007, the company has created fragrances that tap into the psychology of scent. One perfume called Ageless Fantasy is supposed to make women who wear it smell younger via a combination of fruity scents people associate with childhood memories. Another called Chutzpah promises to imbue women with confidence—and presumably, keep them from being a putz—via whiffs of citrus and precious woods.
Well, bottle me up and call it Skeptic. I wasn’t convinced, but I couldn’t resist the chance to let my perfume do the flirting for me.
I work at the relationships site YourTango a few days a week. One of my duties is to go through all the unreleased books publishers send in hopes of a review or coverage.
Free books! Before anyone else can read them! It’s one of the perks of working in media.
Today I went through publishing house catalogs to choose new titles that are coming out in the next six months. I noted which ones I want. Did you know Joan Didion has a new book coming out, and Diane Keaton just wrote a memoir? And I can’t wait to get my itchy little hands on the Tina Fey and Mindy Kaling books.
But a lot of crappy books get sent to YourTango, too. Even when we don’t want them. I read so many press releases for formulaic chick-lit today that I’m pretty sure I could write my own terrible bestseller.
Me: I think I’ve got my bestseller right here. Here’s my book blurb:
Today on The Gloss, I wrote about my biggest regret – being a teacher.
I don’t lose sleep over the fact that I spent two years doing something I didn’t like. In the grand scheme of things, it’s a very short amount of time.
Teaching also taught me a lot about who I am and helped me honestly assess how privileged I’ve been. It gave me a taste of just how mismanaged a bureaucracy can be. It made be stronger and gave me a reason to move to NYC.
And if I ever have a kid someday, his or her teachers can rest assured that there will be none of that desk-throwing, classmate-beating, homework-neglecting nonsense. I’ve already had my fill.
Ten years ago, I was a college freshman, obsessed with the plan I’d made for my life. I wanted to work in an inner-city school, then go to law school, and then figure everything else out. For some reason, I believed the first two goals were stepping stones to a promised land of self-knowledge.
Actually, I know why I made this plan: because programs like Teach For America and graduate school are a great way to spend years of your early adulthood not doing something else. I really wanted to be a writer — original, I know — and I didn’t know how.