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This morning, this guy got up and offered me his seat on the subway.

That never happens. Truly, never. When I was pregnant with my twins, I remember having to foist my Bosu-ball sized belly into the face of the seated (who were pretending not to see my obscenely protrusive abdomen) and threaten to vomit on them in order to take a load off. As you might imagine, I was not at all shy about asking– just shocked at how often I had to.

So today, when the guy offered me his seat (without my asking) I said thanks (more…)

There are days when you forget you’re a Formerly, and then–wham!–out of nowhere, someone breakdances into your life to remind you.

I was on the northbound B train this evening, on my way from work to meet up with my husband, and three little kids with a tagged-up boom box got on at 34th Street. They were wearing track pants and do-rags and were preternaturally nonchalant for 8 or 10-year-olds. (more…)

There’s a period of time in a woman’s life in which she’s no longer objectively hot (definition: some people, mostly those who already love you, as well as guys who sit on milk crates outside bodegas drinking 40s, still think you’re hot, but your average frat boy or wealthy capitalist in search of arm candy looks right through you) yet she is fading fast from the social landscape, at least in terms of her sexual currency.

That’s where I am. Not that I want to command the actual attention of frat boys or rich guys with leather skin and melanomas on their foreheads, but the idea that I couldn’t it if I did is occasionally unsettling. (more…)