It started with Breathless â€“ the camera lingering lustily on the slender curve of Jean Seberg‘s neck below her close-cropped hair. Then Rosemary’s Baby, where all the devil infants and demonic sex in the world couldn’t take away from how freakin’ awesome Mia Farrow looked as she announced, â€śI’ve been to Vidal Sassoon!â€ť
And then there was Emma Watson, who made headlines here and elsewhere this summer when she left behind her ten-year commitment to Harry-Pottering and her trademark long locks in one fell swoop.
Everywhere I looked, there it was.
The pixie cut.
Do you find this headline bizarre? Well, it happened to me and I hope it doesn’t happen to you, too. When the guy from Monk steals your table at a restaurant full of empty tables, it’s not cool. Especially on your friend’s birthday.
I have long resisted writing about cats. I fear the backlash, I fear the misinterpretation, I fear being viewed as a soulless animal-hater. But whatever, because, ew, cats.
I donâ€™t know exactly what it is about cats that repels me: the concept of a kitty litter, or that screeching sound (I have never heard a cat make anything near a â€śmeowâ€ť sound â€“ so please, spare me), or the way they sneak up on you when you least expect it. All of it, really, just gives me the heebie jeebies.
I remember the first time I tried to shave off all my pubic hair. It had just started growing, and I didnâ€™t understand that it was supposed to be there yet, and I got razor burn. I think there was a part of me that wanted to prevent it from growing because that meant, you know, a lot of things in my body were going to change, and I wasnâ€™t ready for that â€¦ Except for tits. I really wanted big tits. More
I think we’ve covered already how terrible my CD collection was in my formative years. Besides mostly consisting of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Les Mis (with the occasional Ace of Bass thrown in there for good measure), it’s not like … More
I’ll be the first to admit it: I’m sort of a fame-whore. While I’ll never admit to being envious of tabloid icons like John Mayer approaching me at bars, I’d kill for a chance to have an A, B, or … More
I was out recently with someone I met through an online dating site. (I know, I know.) I had put up approximately 5 pictures on the site, all head and shoulder shots. But upon meeting me, my date started talking … More
You know the feeling. You’re sitting there, talking to a guy, and all of a sudden he inflicts a dig so harsh it takes you by complete surprise.
Happened to me, just last week: Some Billy Zane lookalike interrupted an otherwise pleasant conversation to ask, point blank, “Have you had any work done?” Shocked, I replied: “Do I LOOK like I’ve had any work done?” I point out the bump in my nose and A-minus cup, not that singling out such non-plastic evidence was necessary. Still, I was curious — such a random question. His response: “I love your body. You have the body of a 12-year-old boy.” More
Jack Shephard is one of the most famous fictional characters of all time. He is also one of the guys over at Buzzfeed, the site which posts cool viral Internet-y stuff. Buzzfeed Jack is currently war with the other Jack, … More
â€śI havenâ€™t been completely honest with you about something,â€ť the good-looking and hilarious chef by day/firefighter by night told me as he dropped me off after our third date. Oh no. Oh GOD no. â€śIâ€™m kind of â€¦â€ť he continued, … More
Scientology isn’t just a celebrity religion — the practice extends to regular Joes as well. And I think I dated one of them, back in 2005. He was a low-level producer for a talk show, and lived in a spartan … More
I wanted to see Valentineâ€™s Day opening weekend. And while Iâ€™m not ashamed to admit that, I was still careful about whom I invited to come along. I donâ€™t have many friends who can control their eye rolls at the … More
Before I start this, I want to be clear: I have never seen an episode of Bravo’s show, Millionaire Matchmaker. Or maybe I saw part of an episode once, but confused it for The Bachelor or Real Housewives or something. … More
Confession: At last count, I have eight tattoos. They range from the small (the quarter-sized coffee and cherry pie on either side of my hips), to the quite large (an abstract half sleeve of seemingly random paint splotches on my … More