Tag Archives: magazines

There’s Something About Twenty-Seven

I’m not sure what ought to concern me more: that multiple people assumed I would connect with the recent film “Tiny Furniture” or that, when I finally watched it (home, with flu, on New Years Eve)–I actually did.

The movie—written, directed by and starring the obscenely talented, obnoxiously young Lena Dunham—centers on a college graduate from Tribeca as she moves back home, gets a job as a hostess, alternately bickers and snuggles with her mother, and attempts to date transparently unavailable men.

For the record, I did once live with my parents while working a hostessing job in Manhattan for just over four weeks in the fall of 2008. Also, I may have gone to a small Midwestern liberal arts college (Macalester) not totally dissimilar from that attended by the protagonist (Oberlin). I may be known to occasionally pursue men who blatantly ought not to be pursued. And it may, perhaps, be the case that—those writerly aspirations notwithstanding—I’m still not sure how I’m going to support myself when I grow up. (More specifically, when I finish my MFA.) Also, I do have  an occasional habit of snapping at my mother in one moment and, the next, tossing my feet on her lap.

What separates me, through, from the protagonist of “Tiny Furniture” (besides, among other things, more vanity and less successful parents), is that she’s twenty-two and I am twenty-seven. I’ve been out of college five years to her few months.  By the time she was my age, Cleopatra had two children and an empire. More recently, my mother had a husband, a career and three stepsons.

But, a lot’s changed since both of their times. Or so, at least, I like to tell myself.

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Filed under Odyssey

Looking Back, Looking Forward

Today in lowbrow gym reading, I perused myself some Glamour. (I claim, by the way, to read the New Yorker at the gym. Once in a while I do. But let’s be real: when there’s a lighter option available, I am not above taking it).

This issue featured Katie Couric conducting a serious interview with Whoopi Goldberg. Okay fine it was really, really unserious. Among her puffy questions was one about what she knows now that she wished she had known in her twenties.

Being Whoopi and being awesome, she replied that she wished she knew that being twenty-something is not, in fact, all that different than being fifty-something.

Which, if you’re not Whoopi, may be more or less true. But regardless it reminded me of a conversation I had last night with one of my best friends, R.

R is starting law school in the fall, which means she’s moving back to New York. She is currently contemplating a decision: whether to go back to her bright-but-expensive-and-ideally-located Brooklyn apartment, or move in, for a few months at least, to her parents bright-but-free-and-ideally-located Brooklyn house.

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Filed under Love Life

Men With Two Faces

One of my not-so-great talents in life is that I am extremely gullible. It’s probably not very wise of me to advertise this trait on the internet, but for the sake of this post I must share that most things people tell me, I believe. How I managed to work in journalism for several years I cannot and will not explain.

I was reminded of this tendency today by my friend  and colleague J, as I told her and A about my new low, as of this morning, in gym reading material: Star magazine.

“Isn’t that the one that has stuff about space aliens and UFO’s taking over Hollywood?” she asked.

“That’s what I thought, too!” I replied, going on to explain that despite these associations, Star actually struck me as no more absurd than US Weekly, my usual grocery line tabloid of choice. And with an equally, if not more extensive selection of celebrity photos in the “stars! they’re just like us!” vein–which I think we can all agree is the highlight of US Weekly indulgence. (I mean, come on: who doesn’t like a picture of Reese Witherspoon pushing a grocery cart?)

I then told the two of them about the reason I’d brought up the magazine in the first place: a feature about Sandra Bullock and Jesse James. Old news, I know. (Not as old, however, as the copy of Gourmet that I picked up at the gym a few weeks ago–from 2002. Newsflash: if anyone has some extra cash burning a hole in their proverbial pocket, UNM could use it.)

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Filed under Love Life