dating
I can't think of a single person I've broken up with that I'm legitimately "over" in the sense that I can still think about them without feeling a bit gut-punched.
gay gay gay
From now on, you can't use the term "bromance" about two people unless they are actually bros in a romance. Those are the new rules.
hobbies
I am such a sucker for props.
fashion
In the interest of not inviting my own bodily harm at the hands of my acquaintances, I have decided to approximate summer to the best of my ability even when the weather outside is driving me to listen to The National and brood about the void of human existence.
boobs
I have been sized by so many salespeople that I feel I may never trust again.
body
A blogger in Oklahoma City recently lost her job for calling a cheerleader "chunky" in a post. Meanwhile, an ESPN reporter declares newly out NBA player Jason Collins to be an "open rebellion to God" as a gay man.
beautiful
We're not saying Gwyneth Paltrow isn't beautiful, but we just think People could, y'know. Branch out a bit.
catcalling
It seems like every woman I know has developed a strategy for dealing with that slimy feeling of a deserted train car or an empty, dark street.
armpit hair
For some reason, I thought that getting my vajay waxed would make me feel less anxious about sleeping with a new dude. This was incorrect.
Kate Conway in
Sex, Sex, Sex ... and Love,
armpit hair,
bikini waxes,
body hair,
hair,
shaving,
tmi,
vagina,
vagina boil,
waxing
Apr 19, 2013 at 12:00pm | 105 comments
body image
I offer the following proposal: maybe we should just stop trying to be hot.
fandom
No, YOU'RE crying about LGBT acceptance in professional sports!
fashion
Dudes apparently think girls in sports gear are the hottest thing since those tights with built-in garters. I put this to the test over the weekend. Results were mixed.
naked pictures
BONUS: I ask a bunch of 18-year-olds about their sex lives, feel like a total creeper in the process!
depression
Spring always makes me inexplicably mopey, to the degree that I sometimes have trouble putting food in my mouth on the regular. If you have this problem, too, I have a few suggestions for meals you can survive on until May.
embarrassing moments
For a bunch of people that talk about our personal lives on the Internet, the xoJane editors sure are great at coming up with our most embarrassing moments.
gay
Things I expected from LGBTQ night at our local hockey game: rainbows, ice fights, an LGBTQ-inclusive Kiss Cam. Things I didn't expect: strangers calling me a dyke.
apps
SF transit is an adventure in the smell of other humans and getting left behind at stations by half-empty buses for no apparent reason. To combat that, lots of innovators have launched alternative-transit apps -- and I kind of hate most of them.
dumb things that entertain me
For some reason, I just discovered that the Google Docs demo gives the impression that six famous authors are collaborating with you on your masterwork. Naturally, I used it for NC-17 rated purposes.
disordered eating
I'd estimate that at the end of the day, my diet consists approximately of 30% mooched work snacks and 70% congealed unsaturated fat covered with hot sauce, along with a couple of bunches of kale thrown in here and there. I carry around a lot of weird guilt about how unhealthy that is.
body
Tina Fey recently said that she won't talk crap about her own body in front of her daughters because she doesn't want to set a bad example. I wonder if my mom did the same thing, but now that I've grown up, she no longer has to maintain the illusion.
affection
Even hard-hearted jerkwads like yours truly need a little physical affection sometimes. (From our cats.)
friend zone
I understand how people might get sort of weirdly hopeful about slow-dancing with their BFFs to Billie Holiday 10 years down the line.
bad decisions
This is the sort of hard-hitting first-person journalism that Lena Dunham was parodying on "Girls," right?
internet
This perennial face-clutching about how we're all going to die fused to our screens and with our lower halves slowly deflating like dampened papier-mâché never fails to make me roll my eyes.