[Editor's Note: New York Magazine does these Sex Diaries that are sometimes cool, sometimes lame. Sometimes they're interesting portrayals of every day life, and sometimes they make it seem like EVERYONE in New York City is having copious amounts of crazy sex -- which isn't always the case, btw. What would happen, I wondered, if some of CC's writers blogged about their sex life for a week? Would it be cooler? Funnier? More believable?

Let's see...]

DAY ONE

7:05 a.m. Boyfriend wakes me up to kiss me before he goes to work, like he does every morning. Like every morning, I feel guilty about my morning breath, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

3:45 Boyfriend comes home early and suggests a quickie.

3:46 Boyfriend catches my unenthusiastic response and tells me never mind. I feel awful, as I do every time I turn him down, but I’ve been cleaning all day without a shower and I had just finished an hour of wii fit so I was sore. I promise him that I’ll make it up to him later that night.

1:22 a.m. Come home from seeing a friend’s band play. Still too sore and tired for sex, so I offer him a blow job as soon as we get home. Read More »

To usher in the season, I chose Wet Hot American Summer as the next Sunday Classic. Whether or not you like this movie depends greatly on whether the sense of humor espoused by its creators appeals to you. And if the critical reception to the film is any indication, it’s a type of humor that most people just don’t get.

Wet Hot American Summer was the brainchild of David Wain and Michael Showalter, previously of the MTV sketch comedy troupe The State. If you have ever seen the show, or other projects from State Alumni like The Ten, Reno 911! and Stella (not to mention various other writing and directing gigs like Balls of Fury and Night at the Museum that seem made for a wider audience) then you will sort of get their schtick–humor from randomness and obscure reference. They aren’t trying to make a lot of sense, and in that lies the brilliance.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Wet Hot American Summer satires the camp movies of the late 70’s and 80’s, but also sort of satires satire itself. It’s the last day of camp, and everyone is scrambling around to find a summer hookup or work on sketches for the Big Talent Show or even save the world. The cast of characters is massive and each group has its own hilariously satisfying subplot. Read More »

As I study some pictures from various other media outlets of the up and coming new-aged model Agyness Deyn — the woman dubbed, “the fashion industry’s next supermodel” — I can’t help but think that I must’ve missed the fashion boat on this one.

The short bob, the platinum – almost white – hair, is too much like the twiggy era for me to think Ms. Deyn is breaking a new fashion mold, when really, she’s just playing copy cat to some of fashions oldest trendsetters. If it wasn’t for Henry Holland who discovered Ms. Deyn, this wanna-be may not have been the face of Armani in ’07 or won the 2007 British model of the year award.

I used to love the way models looked; tall, slender (note I said slender, not emaciated or malnourished) and elegant, gliding down the runway with confidence I wished to exude, but never could master. Now, when I watch fashion shows, look at magazine spreads or stare up at billboards, I can’t help but feel the Agyness Deyn’s of this era are seriously lacking in the sheek-ness that once was what fashion stood for.

Their frail frames, gaunt cheek bones, androgynous look and blank, lifeless stares pale in comparison to the Cindy Crawford’s or Christy Brinkley’s of an older generation. My only fear is that if Agyness Deyn is blowing up on PerezHilton.com as a fierce competitor in the model industry, what does this mean for the future of America’s fashion image?

How do you feel about Ms. Deyn?

(SARA, 23, walks down the street in Queens, NY with a giant bag of laundry. As she passes the elementary school by her apartment, she comes across a group of 14-year-old[?] boys. One KID separates out to meet the next group of boys half a block up.)

KID

(to his friend)

Yo, Hassan! Mothaf*cka gonna rob your ass, son!

(Kid laughs and presses the fire alarm, which buzzes one loud buzz. He turns around to look at Sara.)

KID

Testing the fire alarm, miss.

SARA

(sarcastic)

Wow, awesome.

KID

Yeah?

(thinks)

You’re looking pretty awesome. Read More »

[Read Day 2 HERE]

This morning I tried to watch Good Morning America while I got ready for work, but no such luck whe it came to my diet restrictions. The first commercial break assaulted me with a Hershey’s Kiss commercial displaying a cute couple within the first millisecond and sent me sprinting for the TV to turn it off.

But on an exciting note, (and yes, I realize the following is really not that exciting to a normal person) I stumbled across a Miles Davis CD, and more lucky for me Miles is a man of few words — or rather no words, in his music anyway, so I have safely extend my musical selection to another six songs. Yes.

But here I am in day three of my love-free week, and I am wondering if upon my entrance back into that world with rom-coms, love songs (well, any songs with words really…) sitcoms and their amusing and enviable relationships, along with happily ever after endings will send me into a romantic overload? Here’s to hoping it won’t (obviously you can’t see my raised wine glass, but it’s there. Believe me). Read More »

I’m not really into drugs and don’t know a whole lot about tripping. However, you mention the words flavor-tripping, and my ears might perk up a little. I am, after all, very into food and cooking, and while I’ve had many meals that make me feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven, I’ve never actually tripped off my food. Is that even possible?

Apparently, there is a berry that will make Tabasco sauce taste like glazed doughnuts and vinegar like apple juice. It’s a West African berry called the miracle fruit and The New York Times reported on a rooftop party last week that featured this little berry. Once you pop it in your mouth, everything you eat will taste sweeter and a bit more delicious. Read More »

Life…for every one of us, it’s a puzzle made up of different pieces, different moments. As that famed song in Rent says, there are “five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes” in every year that we live, so basically, that’s a whole lotta moments. For the most part it’s small, mundane moments; brushing our teeth, taking out the trash, traveling to and from work, school and other obligatory destinations. But, there are those few moments in our lives, both good and bad, that are truly life-defining and create us into the unique individuals we are.

A few of the good; getting accepted into and graduating from college, meeting our future spouse/partner, our wedding day and the birth of our children. And then the bad; our first heartbreak, parents’ divorces, our first experience of rejection from a college or job. There is, however, one inevitable part of life that we all must deal with at some point, and which I’ll venture out to say is the suckiest part of life; death. There is nothing quite like losing someone you love. It hits you at your very core, turns your world upside down, and makes life suddenly seem so REAL. For me, this jarring, life-changing moment happened just over a year ago when my dear grandmother lost her battle with ovarian cancer. Read More »

Last week’s episode of Last Comic Standing was unremarkable at best. There were a few standouts, but on the whole, things were off to a piss poor start. Tonight’s episode made up for the last week’s lackluster laughs ten-fold.

Bill Bellamy and British assistant host Fearne headed to Los Angeles and Houston to scout for top talent. Both cities were teeming with stellar comedians, especially of the fairer sex.

Three ladies made it to the semi-finals including Andi Smith, a funny lady with a funnier accent. (Her MySpace page says she’s from a small town in Wisconsin though, so the jokes on me.) She’s a working comedian with a lot miles on her and tonight she took the Last Comic Standing camera crew on a tour of her motel room. Let’s just say I’ve seen more habitable fraternity house bathrooms.

Other standouts tonight were Erin Foley, who did an fantastic set on the oddities that can be seen driving through Mississippi and the over-eager employees in the Wachovia commercials. Read More »

It’s morning in the house of pink and blue and the eight remaining contestants are instructed to meet at the Cherry Pit to wrestle. So it’s jell-o wrestling time and they have to split into two teams of four. Bo can’t wrestle. Can Glitter move without a pole?

The guest ref is a beast. Poor Kristy is wrestling Lisa. Sucks for you and your fine ass, Kristy. George camera-insults Jay for his Jersey b1tch attitude. Scotty is the worst for being unable to beat midget Corey Haim.

Glitter shockingly beats Brittany and I’m saddened that George never got a chance to fight.

Winners get a date in a room that was decorated to look like a candy shop, and Tila’s dressed like kiddie porn. Read More »

While talking to a good guy friend recently I said something about standing outside his bedroom window with a boom box to get his attention (he doesn’t have a door buzzer), and he immediately shot back with a long rant against the movie I was referring to, Say Anything.

Very few women I know actually saw the Cameron Crowe directed film in theaters. It was released in 1989; I was four, and more interested in Mr. Rogers than Mr. Perfect. But now I can’t even count the number of times I’ve seen the film, and each time I watch it I fall in love with John Cusack’s character, Lloyd Dobler, again. This is why I couldn’t understand why my friend, we’ll call him S, loathed the film, and especially Lloyd, so completely. He said the film was cheesy, the plot unrealistic, and that the character I loved so much was moronic.

I’m going to call this disconnect between the way I feel about Say Anything, and the way S feels about Say Anything, “The Lloyd Dobler Factor.” What is it about the film that I love and that my friend just can’t wrap his straight male head around?

Lloyd loves Ione Skye’s character Diane so completely he braves her overprotective (and criminal) father to get her, and he does that adorable boom box thing (the only time a Peter Gabriel song will ever be okay) to win back her affection after they hit a rough spot. Lloyd says things like, “I gave her my heart and she gave me a pen,” and tells Dad: “What I really want to do with my life – what I want to do for a living – is I want to be with your daughter. I’m good at it.” What’s not to love? Read More »