I have to say, even though the individual weddings I’ve attended throughout my 20s were more expensive and emotionally torturous for me as a single person, I think I saved a BUNDLE in not having a boyfriend all those years. I only had to go to my personal weddings, not any weddings of some guy my boyfriend went to…

I’ve decided to stretch this point to the logical conclusion and wait so long to get married that I know my friends are going to be ECSTATIC because they literally never thought it was going to happen and it feels like witnessing a miracle. Or at least that is the distinct vibe I’m getting from the approbation…

This is PRECISELY how I feel about my future wedding, actually. I don’t want to make my guests suffer, but I spent my entire 20s fielding not only the never-worn-again bridesmaids dresses and gifts-that-represent-a-significant-portion-of-my-net-worth, but also the subtle and demoralizing pity of all as everyone…

Yes! The tambrels! We have a mix of tiny tambourines and tiny bells, all relics of the childrens’ toys from when they were little.

My aunt makes hers with salmon and I SWEAR I wait for it all year. I think its a NYTimes recipe. Mm mmmmmmmm.

Oh we LOVE our Miriam rituals. The Miriam’s cup. The orange on the Seder plate. And of course, the part where all the women in the house get up and join hands and dance like lunatics through the house to Debbie Friedman’s “Miriam’s Song” and the men are instructed to remain seated and not have any fun. Highly…

Not in motherfucking Scarsdale, you don’t. I feel so sheltered and left out now. Is there a term for nostalgia-related FOMO? Fear I Did Miss Out?

Seems quite possible. There were not many amateur snake wranglers in the suburbs of New York City where I grew up, or at least they had the good sense to keep quiet about it lest the neighborhood mommies have them involuntarily committed.

No it sounds awful. I feel badly that there are apparently entire elementary schools where people say “snake assemblies” (which you must admit is a terrifying image) like it’s a THING.

I don’t want to snake-shame you, but this may not be quite as universal an experience as you suppose....? Although apparently, there are more of you than there are of me, at least in the land of the greys, so who knows! Maybe I had an odd snake-free educational experience.

I’m sorry, WHAT?

A corollary: Never hire someone to do a visually-oriented job when their website looks like THAT. No one with any genuine aesthetic sense would be able to LOOK at that layout and be happy with it, let alone maintain it as a representation of their work for years on end. A slick website isn’t everything, but it’s not…

So we’re supposed to get by on more than our looks and our bodies, but we’re also supposed to take tips from sex workers on how to use our bodies to keep our men happy? Pick a side, yo.

Clearly, obviously, indubitably, are-you-fucking-kidding-me: the statute about felony adultery is not enforced in Illinois. It’s a weird relic, not a law that any court uses to mete out punishment. The last case that did was nearly 20 years ago. There are similar laws on the books in 17 other states, which are also…

Oh I won’t say anything more, then, because you really should just read it. It’s SO interesting. But really as an interesting meditation on the voyeur as journalist and the voyeur as reader—I felt ickily almost complicit as I read his detailed account of how he built his viewing room, described what he saw, etc. I…

I was a little puzzled initially by how much time this article spent on research methods, as it was clear that the information Foos obtained was not at all of interest to Talese except insofar as it provided a window into Foos’ obsessions and habits. Did anyone really think research was being conducted here? The…

For the record, I am 29 and not a housewife of any kind, but my ex is impossibly attracted to incredibly plastic-looking women. I blame it on his growing up in L.A.

The only time I’ve ever been to Beautique was when I was with my ex and we were still swingers, in order to meet the tackiest couple we encountered in the year we were together. The man was exactly the kind of beefy, oily, overly-groomed type that is endemic to this sort of place, and his wife was a high-school…

This complements my personal threshold theory SO PERFECTLY so thank you VERY very much, from the Department of Internet Science where I am currently getting my masters.

My brother is 6'7" (we grow ‘em big in our house!) and people literally cannot help themselves from commenting on his height. Strangers will cross the street and stop him to ask him how tall he is. It does happen to men, they just have to be significantly taller than whatever the internalized outer limit for “normal”…