In high school I read a poem about a woman watching raindrops slide down her windowpane. Each drop reminds her of a different past lover. The memories accumulate on the same plane, slipping and colliding at unplanned intervals. I remember nothing about the author or the rest of the poem, but I remember wondering if it was possible to have as many boyfriends as raindrops, and feeling inexplicably sad. I didn’t yet have meaningful relationships that could be put in the past, so this was a foreboding sadness—a sense of a dark raincloud on the horizon.
In "A Couple Chooses a Movie," Inside Amy Schumer delivers the couple-chooses-a-movie version of Portlandia's hallowed Battlestar Galactica sketch. In four minutes and 40 seconds of realness, though, somehow the realest moment is when Amy slips off her bra mid-selection without removing her shirt. Magic is real. [via]
Any woman who’s ever fought with a guy after the kind of movie where Katherine Heigl finds love may be shocked by the findings of a new study. A report published in the Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology found that watching a romantic film with your spouse and discussing it afterwards lowers your likelihood of divorce as much as going through couples therapy does. Researchers analyzed 174 newlywed couples who either went through therapy or merely watched and discussed romantic movies, and after three years, both groups had equal divorce rates. Here’s a transcript from one couple, who watched the romantic movie “Her,” about a mustached man named [...]
I’ve got myself in knots about my friend. Since we met she had always been the paradigm of the best and most fun. Back then it was harder to get close to her. I was more tame and unavailable. There was also always some chemistry. I don’t know how much it matters that I've really only dated dudes long-term. This has never hindered my identifying as queer, but has obviously limited my expression of that part of myself. Somehow these things are maybe connected.
Over the years we've grown up a little and grown closer despite living far apart. We are among one another’s closest friends. Except that the chemistry [...]
In 2009, Molly Caro May moved to Montana with her husband and built the first home she would ever stay in for more than a couple of years—a yurt. She wrote about the experience in her memoir The Map of Enough: One Woman's Search for Place.
What have people’s reactions been to your move, generally? More like “I wish I could live your life” or more like “How the hell are you doing this”?
I hear a lot from people that they wish they’d done something, if not necessarily this particular thing. Lots of people tell me, “I had an opportunity when I was 25 to choose [...]
This conversation between Hanna Rosin and therapist Esther Perel (who "accepts only patients who are involved in affairs, and the vast majority of them, she says, are 'content' in their marriages") is fascinating. "Very often we don’t go elsewhere because we are looking for another person," says Perel. "We go elsewhere because we are looking for another self. It isn’t so much that we want to leave the person we are with as we want to leave the person we have become."
Other tidbits: "In America, lying can never be an act of caring"; "Female infidelity is the biggest challenge to the male-dominated status quo"; "Therapists are the worst!"; "For me, [...]
Brooklyn literary darling Emma Straub’s third book and second novel, The Vacationers, couldn’t be more different than her debut historical novel, Laura Lamont’s Life in Pictures. Set in the present day, The Vacationers (available tomorrow, May 29th) spans two weeks of a nuclear New York City family’s vacation in Mallorca, Spain. The Post family, which consists of food enthusiast wife Franny, recently fired husband Jim, and adult children Sylvia and Bobby, set off for sun and relaxation before Sylvia heads off to college. But as with all adorably dysfunctional families, the Posts encounter a lot more than just what’s on their vacation itinerary, particularly about one another.
I emailed with [...]
Imagine if The Nothing from Neverending Story coupled with a bumbling cartoon bear forever getting its head stuck in pots of honey. That’s Milo! Born of the dumpsters, he spent three years living in a well-appointed cat rescue shelter in northeast Portland, passed over (they guessed) because of his age and because he’s black. Superstitions die hard, and more than one shelter volunteer has told me black animals don’t photograph well, their personalities don’t come through so easily. It’s true. In his most expressive photo from the House of Dream’s Instagram account, Milo is mid-silent-meow, and looks not unlike Sloth from The Goonies—which is to say, disoriented and asymmetric.
Sometimes I think it's hard being in a long-term relationship because I don't know what "swipe left" jokes are supposed to mean, but then I remember about stories like this.
What I don't understand about these stories is that I know I've been on very few dates, none of them with strangers, but I interact with men every day! I have male friends and acquaintances, male classmates and coworkers and relatives. Some of them are weird or mean or dumb, but none of them seem to act like they were raised by a random assortment of YouTube videos in a tent in someone's backyard. Some of my interactions with [...]