In Defense of Scheduling Sex

I remember when I was young, innocent, naïve, and fresh out of Catholic school, with my grand delusions of love and men and spontaneous sex, possibly partially fueled by reading the endlessly illicit Fifty Shades of Gray. Oh to be young! Oh to be tossed recklessly over the shoulder of a beautiful man with an…

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What I Learned at the Van Gogh Museum

I arrived at the Van Gogh museum with an empty, octagonal box of “magic truffles,” a pamphlet from the Dutch police on what to do when your wallet is stolen, and a package of Always Infinity overnight pads, which I had bought and clawed through in a moment of desperation when Aunt Flow rolled into…

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