I got up out of Brian’s bed after sex one night to use the bathroom and clean myself up.   After tinkling, I wiped and noticed 10 to 15 little black specs, the size of poppy seeds, on the toilet paper (yes I counted).

They weren’t stains, but actual pieces of something.  I even got up to inspect the contents of the toilet to see what came out of me to produce these……thankfully there was nothing there but my urine….what the fuck are these things??

I immediately got scared and thought “Oh my God – I have CANCER!  I have vagina cancer and I’m going to die!!!”  (I’m Jewish – its in our genes to be neurotic about our health.)  My vagina was decomposing from the inside out and I had about 6 months to live.

I wiped a second time, maybe I was seeing things….NOPE….there they were again.

I flushed my vagina cancer down the toilet and crawled back into bed too afraid to tell my boyfriend that I was dying.  Boy would he miss me.

The next day my vagina returned back to normal.  But I still couldn’t figure out what caused the black specs.  I kept a close eye on all of my future wipes waiting for the little fuckers to return.

The next time I saw them, was again, at Brian’s apartment….after sex.  Ok, now I’m on to something.

Sex with Brian = Vagina decay

I finally decided that it was time to tell Brian that I was dying….or that at least my vagina was dying…because of him!

Me:  “Ummmm Brian, can we talk?”

Brian: “Yeah, what’s up babe?”

Me: “Well twice already after sex, when I’ve gone to the bathroom, there have been black specs on the toilet paper.  I’m getting worried that there is something wrong with me down there.”

Brian: “Oh, that’s just the grape seeds.”

Me: “Huh? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Brian:  “Well, I ran out of Astroglide so I used grape seed oil instead, I had some in the kitchen.”

Me:  “You filled my vagina with grape seed oil and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Brian:  I didn’t think it mattered, I read online that you can use grape seed oil as a lubricant and since I had some handy I figured why not?”

Me:  “Because there are little seeds in it!!!  Maybe the oil is good for lubrication but the seeds aren’t!!!  Don’t you feel them scratching your penis?”

Brian: “Nah…they are too small.  Plus grape seed oil is much cheaper than Astroglide and you can buy it bulk!!!”

Me:  “Are you out of your mind???  You put seeds inside of me!!  I could get an infection and God only knows what else down there!”

Brian:  “Relax, babe!  Its OK!!!

Me: “No, its not OK….and unless you want to get on your hands and knees with a flashlight and tweezer to pick out every last seed from my vag you will buy normal lube at CVS tomorrow!”

Brian: “Fine, but I swear the Internet said it was ok to use.”

Me: “Next time why don’t you try Googling “how not to be a cheap fuck” you asshole!


About two months ago, I came home from work to find my internet/cable/phone service not working.   After calling my cable provider to find out that only my apartment was having issues…the news got really good when the customer service lady told me that she couldn’t send a tech to check out the problem for 2 days.

Awesome!!!  What the fuck am I supposed to do for the next two nights without TV??? Internet??? Porn???

I glanced over at my bookcase where all of my DVDs were stored thinking I’d get through the next few days watching movies on my laptop and then I saw my Dawson’s Creek Series!!!!!

Dawson’s Creek is my all time favorite TV show….EVER!!!!  And NO…this does not embarrass me!!!!   It took me 2 weeks to watch every episode of the Dawson’s Creek series….again!  There are 128 one-hour episodes!

In 1998, the year Dawson’s Creek first aired, I was 17, a senior in high school and I was head over heels in love with my best friend who also happened to be my across the street neighbor.  He was the real life version of Dawson Leery.  I had convinced myself that I was Joey Potter and watched my life play out every Wednesday night on the WB.

The similarities between Dawson Leery and my first love Ryan Moon were scary…….

Dawson and Ryan were both tall, blonde, adorable 15 year olds.  They were both only children who grew up in beautiful houses on the water.  Dawson and Ryan were both thoughtful and sensitive and a bit straight laced.  But most importantly, both Dawson and Ryan had best girl friends that were in love with them!

Dawson and Joey lived across the creek from each other.  Ryan and I lived across the street from each other!!!!  Come on!!! Crazy right?!?!?!?

Other than our brown hair and our love for our best guy friends, there were few similarities between Joey and myself (my father wasn’t in jail for drug trafficking, my sister hadn’t been knocked up by her black boyfriend, Joey had one chin where as I had two) but it didn’t matter!!!!

Every Wednesday night I was obsessed – glued to the TV – watching what would unfold next in our love lives.

For over a year I was crazy in love with Ryan who only saw me as a friend.  I had to sit by my entire senior year of high school and watch him date and make out with other girls and each and every time my heart would break.  We would fight, he would tell me again and again that he only saw me as a friend and then we would make up after I lied and told him that I was ok with just a friendship.  I would have said anything to keep him in my life but I NEVER gave up hope that he would be my boyfriend one day.

Ryan and I did end up dating the summer before college (best time of my life).  As with most first loves….my heart was broken when I left for college and our 2 month relationship ended.  What’s the rule of thumb? For every year of a relationship you need one month to heal.  Using that calculation I should have been over him in what….5 days!  It took me years to get over him…seriously…YEARS!!!

My family has since moved out of the house I grew up in so I haven’t seen Ryan in many many years.   I fantasize about running into him in the city and having him ask me to grab a drink and catch up…of course in this fantasy he would also realize that I am his one true love, remember that I gave him the best blow jobs of his life and tell me what a mistake it was that we lost the past 14 years…

Considering Ryan lives and works in NYC it’s not completely out of the realm of possibility that I would run into him….

Then one day I was grabbing a bite to eat on the UWS and….HOLY FUCK…..

There he was – Dawson Leery!!!

Hold on!!!  Don’t get too excited….not MY Dawson Leery but the REAL Dawson Leery….James Van Der Beek was sitting at the table across from me.

Of course this was the best star sighting EVER and I immediately texted Robin the awesome news (only she could truly understand how exciting this was for me).

But as I bit into my tuna melt I was definitely disappointed that I had crossed paths with the wrong Dawson!

God must really enjoy fucking with me….

Yay!!!!  My first date in 7 months!!!!

I’ve been trying to make a concerted effort to put myself out there and meet someone.  I’ve been forcing myself to log onto Jdate at least once a day.  I’ve posted some cute new pics and have had some new guys check out my profile…things are looking up!

Well sort of…

I received a cute email from a 42 year man…his profile was pretty normal…when I saw his pic I thought….eh…not too bad.

When we spoke for the first time on the phone I found out that he was Israeli.  I don’t know what it is but I have never had a successful relationship with an Israeli man.  They have always been very aggressive, if not on the first date than by the second.  I’ve found that their moods change from one minute to the next if they don’t get their way.

But…since I don’t like grouping people into one big stereotype…I decided I’d give it a shot!

30 seconds in to our first phone conversation he invited me over to his apartment.  Hello…. aggressive much!!!  There were a dozen reasons why this wasn’t going to happen….he soon realized that trying to get me to come over that night was futile, so he asked me if I was free the next night….which I was.

When I asked him where we would go for our 1st date he said his place, he’d open a bottle of wine and we would see if there was a spark.

Now this DEFINITELY wasn’t going to happen.  I’m not a prude…I’m really not!  But there was no way in hell that for a 1st date I was going to this guy’s apartment.  Safety reasons, comfort reasons, moral reasons…..take me out or go fuck yourself dude.

He just wouldn’t let up!  He kept going on and on about how he’s not a murderer and how I could trust him, that due to his work he needed to be in his apartment in case he needed to take a call – all he wanted was a quiet romantic atmosphere where we could talk….

I told him I’d think about it and let him know.

45 minutes later I texted him back: “I just wouldn’t feel comfortable – sorry.  Good luck with your search for love.”

He texted me back: “If I can figure something out would u still be up for going out…I can let you know tomorrow afternoon.”

Since he was making an effort, I texted him back: “Of course.  Let me know.”

We met near his apartment on 33rd and 3rd at 9:50pm and my first impression was…EH. He looked better in his picture than in person…. he wasn’t as tall as I thought he would be.  He looked older than 42.  But…. I kept reminding myself that there is more to people than their looks so be nice and smile and try to enjoy yourself.

We started walking to find a quiet place to sit but considering we were in Murray Hill on a Friday night this was pretty difficult.  Every bar was packed with 20-somethings getting bombed.  We walked for about 15 minutes when we finally turned around.

Before I knew it he was walking up to an apartment building and taking out his key!  “Ummmm…Where are we?”

SHOCKER….we were at his apartment building.  Completely annoyed and frustrated that I still hadn’t gotten my point across…I told him AGAIN that I wasn’t going up to his fucking apartment (I didn’t actually say fucking….I’m a lady – I start to curse on the 2nd date).  I reminded him that I was very clear over the phone that a first date in his apartment wasn’t going to happen.  I stood on the sidewalk and told him “If you won’t take me out I’m going home.”

We continued walking…knowing he was completely pissed and frustrated with me.  Annoyed….he told me that he’s too old for this, that all he wanted to do was sit and talk…that he’s not a rapist…blah blah blah.

FINALLY….we found a restaurant….I was relieved….he was disappointed.

I took a deep breath, swallowed a big gulp of wine and tried to make the best of this date.  Thankfully, we had a nice normal conversation about our careers, families, traveling and other 1st date topics.  He asked me lots of questions, seemed interested in me and told me I had beautiful eyes.  Things were finally looking up and when he grabbed my hand at the table I didn’t want to run.

But…15 minutes in he starts talking about going back to his apartment for a good bottle of wine…. apparently the wine in front of him wasn’t up to par.


So for the 5th time since meeting him I was yet again telling him that I wasn’t going back to his apartment tonight!!!!!!  Dude!! Do I need to say it in Hebrew???

Mr. Aggressive was back!!!  Yay!!!  He didn’t like my “rules.”  He hated when women had rules for what they would and would not do on 1st dates.  I told him that I was sorry that he felt that way but that I wasn’t going to change who I was.

He completely stopped talking after that.  We had about 30 seconds of uncomfortable silence when I finally said, “Well I don’t want to waste any more of your time so why don’t we get the check.”

2 minutes later we were walking to hail a cab.  He tried one last time to explain why he felt the way he did (and get me up to his apartment).  Apparently his last Jdate experience started out great.  He had a strong emotional connection with the girl…waited to have sex at her request….and then when the girl didn’t rock his world in bed…he felt that he had wasted his time.

Shalom Asshole!!!!

I was back in a cab headed uptown by 10:50pm….my date from start to finish was 1 whole hour.

I should have stayed home and masturbated….a lot more enjoyable and I wouldn’t have wasted any of my new make-up!

I was on a crowded cross-town bus last week headed to work and I was standing next to a father and his daughter who was about 4 or 5 years old.  Next to them was a woman in her mid 40s with…how should I put this….sharp facial features.  The little girl looked at the woman standing next to her and said to her father “Know who she looks like Daddy?”  The woman heard the little girl say this and asked her, “Who do I look like?”

Now I’m standing there holding my breathe…pretending I’m not listening…knowing that this little girl is absolutely going to say that this woman looks like a Disney villain and completely embarrass the woman, the father and all of the commuters in ear shot of this little girl’s innocent observation.

The father quickly said to the little girl, “No no no sweetie…that’s not nice.”  Thankfully the bus started to clear out, the father steered his daughter toward the back of the bus and I was able to move away from Cruella Deville and her miserable morning commute.

I know that the little girl meant no harm and I’m sure most parents have had those moments where their kids say completely inappropriate and embarrassing things to people where all they want to do is crawl under a rock….or kill their kids.

Just ask my mother!

When I was about 8 my sister played baseball in a little league program.  I would go to all the games and play with the other siblings who weren’t athletic enough to play on their own sports teams.

So one day I was standing in the dugout with one of the player’s moms, Mrs. P and my mom.  I looked up at Mrs. P and said to her very matter-of-factly, “Mrs. P…you have a big nose.”  I don’t know what possessed me to say this.  She did have a big nose and I guess at that very moment I felt like telling her that I had noticed.

Mrs. P took my insult in stride and responded with, “Why yes, WinterInNYC, I do.”

My mother was utterly embarrassed and apologized on my behalf.  But Mrs. P was pretty cool about it and said to my mom, “She’s just being honest.”

Fast-forward 5 years, now I’m 13 and I have a big nose.  REALLY?!?  The bad hair wasn’t enough????….being fat wasn’t enough???  The crooked teeth weren’t enough?!?  Why God Why???

I go through phases of wanting a nose job and then not wanting one.  I’ve had several plastic surgery consultations over the years where all of the doctors have told me what the perfect nose should look like and how for $8,000 I can have one.  One surgeon also offered a chin implant and liposuction for an additional $4,000.  Thanks doc….not only do I have a big nose but I’m fat and chinless too.  GO ME!

When it comes to plastic surgery my feeling is this…I don’t judge.  You need it, you want it, you have the money….go for it!  But I won’t risk it (at this point in my life) if the outcome could be worse than what I started with.  So for me, as big as my nose is….I’d rather a long nose than a botched up “nose job” nose so many women are walking around with.  Basically, I don’t want to look like a person who had a nose job.

To this day, my family and I joke that I got a big nose because I told Mrs. P that she had one….and God punished me.

When I was 15, I took a babysitting job my cousin wasn’t available for.  The girl was 6 years old and as we sat in her kitchen playing a board game she said to me, “You have a big nose.”

You’re fucked kid…what goes around comes around!