Sex Talks

Take that , "which famous Hollywood couple are you?" quiz! This super confusing looking chart from Aukland-based writer and designer Enni Tuomisalo with Lumi Creative for movie blog Filmsourcing will tell you if you should even be in Hollywood in the first place! The first time I took the quiz I got Gaffer but I think that's because I didn't know what, "do you like polishing the turd?" meant.  The second time I pretended that I do know what it means to polish the turd, and I got Editor. The third time I started at Screenwriter and worked backwards to make sure I answered enough of the questions right to justify that answer, and I somehow ended up at Blogger . So, bottom line, this infographic works. That said, I wouldn't recommend playing with it on a day when you have a big meeting related to a career outcome that this Magic 8 ball of squares and arrows didn't predict... Good luck! Explore more infographics like this one on the web's larg...

I was having a drink with a friend the other night when the awkward topic of how to behave before you've, "really made it," came up. Trust me, I feel as weird writing the words, "really made it," as you feel reading them. What does it mean? When has it happened? What constitutes being a success? Nobody knows. I mean, Lena Dunham, Aaron Sorkin, the guys who created Modern Family know, but I'm talking ten rungs down from that in the land of baby writers who have yet to sell that project that makes all other project sales a possibility. My land. These are super heady things that most people will tell you exist in your own heart and mind, at the end of the day. But at the beginning of the day, or mid-morning - which is where I like to think my own current career lies - they exist in a more concrete way. Simply put, in this industry it matters whether or not you behave like you're "there" - a success , an important person , someone people should be...

I�m not lying when I say that our wedding planning was going very smoothly. There was some early anxiety around the selection of the venue, decisions around the guest list and realization about the astronomical costs of alcohol (I�m talking more than the cost of the food! ), but aside from those typical wedding woes, it�s been smooth sailing. Until it came time to do the invites. If you asked me where I prioritized wedding invitation before I was an engaged lady, I would have said that I didn�t. I mean, I envisioned them being lovely, but zero Pinterest pinning time had been dedicated to their creation (as opposed to, say, the 18+ hours dedicated to pining floral table scapes). So around December 1st I started researching options, aanndd around December 2 nd I was convinced that the only option was E-vites. There are endless possibilities, all of those possibilities cost more than I ever intended to spend, and none of the ones I could afford seemed to come with a kind and car...

--> I never intended to fall in love with a 65-year-old Russian aesthetician who threatens my life every other week, but it happened none-the-less, and with R�s full approval. I was just laying on the waxing table, half-folded paper robe draped over my who-ha, contemplating how the hell I was going to finish and book proposal and a feature film in 72 hours when the door opened behind me and a pair of conspicuously strong hands started massaging my head.             �I massage you for few minutes ,� the voice that belonged to the hands said . �Ina still finishing other client.� The mystery voice was round and deep, like a 65-year-old Russian aesthetician�s. The person connected to it smelled like a combination of baby powder and my grandmother�s old doll room. She was standing behind me in a dimly lit room, so I couldn�t even see her face until it was suddenly two centimeters from my own, yelling.     ...

It happens. You get caught up with that feature re-write...and a good friend comes to town...and those episode of Downton Abbey aren't just going to watch themselves...and suddenly it's February 12th and you don't have a surprise for your sweetie. I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring of the thousand write-ups on this very topic. Remember: Valentine's Day isn't about how much money you spend (unless you're dating that girl/guy), it's about how much effort you put in. But since we're 48 hours out and you already blew the "effort" thing, here are some easy, last-minute gifts. FOR HER 1. A Facial - Because everyone gets a massage. I know few women who treat themselves to as many facials as they should get annually, so help her out with her February appointment, and if you're feeling super generous throw in March too. 2. This Morse Code Necklace -  Because it's as affordable as it is cool and you can get away with ordering a custom...

I get incredibly excited when a single sentence encapsulates everything I feel about a given issue. That might be because nothing impresses me more than perfect, succinct writing (as a writer and a human). It might be because I love connecting with strangers around shared thought (which is why I am a writer, and a human to some extent). I might be because not knowing how to express the thought myself was driving me crazy (see above explanations). In the case of this Sunday's Modern Love column, it was D. all of the above. As you know, I have mixed feelings about the institution of marriage . Given the benefits that it currently brings, my ideals about life-long partnership, and my feelings about R, I've decided it is the right next step for me, but it's still a massive, confusing issue especially when you factor in marriage equality and the history of the institution of marriage. But when I read Heidi Basarab's piece it all made sense. Here is the one sentence that cut...