Yeah, I’ll never forget when I was told I was a bad feminist on here for using tampons and eschewing a Diva Cup. Or when I was told I was a bad feminist on here for trimming my pubes. Good times, good times.

Here. I identify as white (mom’s white, grew up fully within a middle-class WASPy milieu in Connecticut with no brown people around, dad noped outta Texas at 18 and never looked back), but my dad is first gen Mexican-American. Not only did neither of my parents ever lay a hand on me, my dad’s mother, who was born in…

Been there getting TROs in the LA Superior Court system against my rapist. In the end, I couldn't emotionally hack the process of making it permanent. I got a one year "keep away" order and was delighted to learn that asshole fled the country shortly after the hearing. They don't make it easy for people going through…

When I made an offhanded comment on Facebook about flipping off LA drivers, my dad’s college roommate made a concerned reply warning me of the dangers of giving the finger to people in general, and that more life experience will lead to greater maturity. I’m 46.

I was getting drunk on neat Bombay Sapphire straight out of a bottle on the South Bank, right near the Royal Festival Hall, stuck with the campesr of my then-husband’s friends while he snorted lines of coke somewhere nearish-by. Earlier in the day we’d blasted Howlin’ Wolf from the windows of our shitty flat in North…

Can confirm this is 100% accurate after 12 years in the UK and 2 British ex-husbands. My first MIL made it VERY clear to me that even though my upbringing and education were very similar to her precious son’s, I would never be quite right because I was too American (read: vulgar). The woman was the worst sort of…

Yes!!! It doesn’t beat my encounter with Fabio at the Studio City Petco in the fish aisle, in my opinion, but it’s now my #2 LA Celebrity Run In. Also, Gus's is the bomb.

Not Thanksgiving related, but on Sunday afternoon. I reunited a tearful and emotional Iggy Azalea with her iPhone on Pico Boulevard, near the Gus's Fried Chicken at the corner with Crenshaw. She'd misplaced it and was wailing for its return when I saw it resting on a ledge of a building. I asked if it was hers, she…

It was also one of two places for underage Yalies/Southern students to get shitfaced in without (too much) worry about getting their dodgy ISIC IDs refused, the other being Viva Zapata. 

Nope, it’s a Patagonia now. 

This is pretty much what I was guessing.

Because:

This is 100% accurate. Thank you for correcting the record.

No lie — I came to the comments just to see the first reference to Diva Cups.

Moving back to the States after 12 years in Britain. Still married to Mr Crumpett No. 2. Working for a think tank at a business school. Commenting on an immigration message board. Two years away from my nervous breakdown. And the wealthiest I’ve been in my working life. It’s taken me a decade to get back to the level…

I am 44 and I love my roommate! He’s basically my Irish twin kid brother I never had. We started living together when both our marriages imploded at the same time, and neither of us could afford to live on our own. Seven years later, we could afford to live apart (and I could afford to live with my boyfriend of six…

Pretty sure all the stoned. My friend’s buddy used to own a menswear store in Santa Monica. Harrison Ford used to amble sometimes a little “frittata” himself. One time his mind was blown when he discovered that when you buy shoelaces, they generally come in pairs, not as singular laces. “Wow, cool,” he said, then…

That was date night for us the other weekend! We went to a Target we don’t usually go to so we could spice things up a bit.

Thank you — I came here to write just that. When I moved back to the US after many years abroad and brought my British (now ex-) husband with me, I had to sign an affidavit of support to reimburse the government should he ever obtain means-tested public benefits. When we went for the interview at the consulate, he was…

I remember the morning so clearly, and can’t believe it’s been 20 years. My ex and I were moving from London to Bristol the next day (grad school for me, law school for him) and living in Westminster that summer with his parents. I woke up at 5:30am because I was worrying about all the last-minute things we needed to…