I’ve never been one to say no to an experience that sounds interesting. This inclination has led me down a few paths my parents would probably not be happy to learn about — one of those paths being recreational drug use.

Now, before certain readers out there go all NARC on my ass, let me say that I make it a point to stay away from hard drugs. No coke, no herion…nothing that’s genetically altered to speed me towards an early death. I like to stick to the hippie stuff; weed, shrooms, hashish…you know, things that come from nature. And I’m very careful about who I purchase this stuff from. Those of us that partake in these sorts of relaxation techniques should always be careful about that sort of thing. People are a**holes.

Right, so public service announcement over. What I’m really writing about is this article I recently read on Salon.com about Salvia, a hallucinogenic substance that’s illegal in about 10 states and is probably going to be made illegal in a bunch more very soon. According to the author of the article (and a few friends of mine), Salvia is super potent — but only for 5 to 10 minutes. Apparently, you will trip off your ass and see the weirdest sh*t in the world (including Aztec Gods…or at least that’s what the writer saw), but it’ll all be over in minutes. Read More »

So, the other day, while at work and totally bored, I came across a surprisingly good article, especially since it’s from Marie Claire, which is generally totally vapid.

The author of the article had a strange family (read: possible incest? he’s not sure) and he’d lost touch with his sister, who only called his mother once in a while to report that she had some fabulous job.

And then…he saw his sister’s picture in a porn magazine.

It all spiraled down from there. Guilt. Embarrassment. Horror. I mean, you name it. What struck me the most, however, was the sister’s relationship to her family in relation to what she did. She basically just disappeared from sight.

At first, I thought that was pretty awful of her. I mean, she should at least give her family the chance to understand, right? Shouldn’t she give them the opportunity to show her that they love her no matter what she does?

But then I got to thinking what it must be like to be a pornstar. Imagine people recognizing you on the street and knowing what you look like underneath that crisp interview suit? Imagine them eyeing you while you’re on a date at some nice candlelit restaurant? Read More »

A recent New York Times article discussed research that has become quite the topic of conversation among psychologists in recent years: narcissism among young adults.

Apparently, our generation is all about the “I Love Me.”

According to the people behind the research, today’s 18-25 year olds are more narcissistic than any previous generation: “Today’s young people — schooled in the church of self-esteem, vying for spots on reality television, promoting themselves on YouTube — are more narcissistic than their predecessors.”

I find this completely unfair. Just because I can’t walk by a mirror without looking at my reflection does not make me a narcissist. Just because I look at myself first…and last…every time I look at a picture does not make me a narcissist. And just because I think I am hilarious and talented and write a blog that I expect everyone to adore doesn’t make me a narcissist.

Ok. Maybe I do think about myself quite a bit.

But it’s not my fault that I was raised in a generation in which parents told children they could do anything, be anything, and they should never doubt themselves. We have been told our whole lives that anything is attainable and, more recently, that nothing is sexier on a woman than confidence. How, then, can I now be blamed for being confident? Read More »

Sesame Street is no longer safe for kids.In a hilarious New York Times article, Virginia Heffernan jokes about the very real warning on the DVD for volumes 1 and 2 of Sesame Street: “These early ‘Sesame Street’ episodes are intended for grown-ups, and may not suit the needs of today’s preschool child.”

After subjecting herself and friends to an “all-ages” screening of the 1970’s version of the kids show, Heffernan bemoaned the “damage” the show’s gritty early years caused her psyche.

“The show rolled, and the sweet trauma came flooding back. What they did to us was hard-core. Man, was that scene rough. The masonry on the dingy brownstone at 123 Sesame Street, where the closeted Ernie and Bert shared a dismal basement apartment, was deteriorating. Cookie Monster was on a fast track to diabetes. Oscar’s depression was untreated. Prozacky Elmo didn’t exist.”

Even though I was nothing but a faraway dream in the 70’s, I remember tuning into Sesame Street during my early years, somewhere around 1986. While I’m pretty sure Elmo had been ‘born’ by then, the images my pre-school eyes witnessed were not the saccharin filled pictures that flood PBS today. Read More »