What's in a Name?
Little frum girl moves to Southern California and imagines she can have it all—life devoted to Torah, education, Ph.D., family (eventually), career, and then some ...
At work recently, some of my coworkers were expressing in a public forum how they feel about sex education, namely, how important it is and how abstinence-only education is a crock and how the religious nuts who refuse to accept that their children might want to have sex before marriage are backwards.
"A writer, like a boxer, must stand alone. Having your words published, like entering a ring, puts your talent on display and there is nowhere to hide. The truth is revealed and sometimes the results can be disastrous."
Proofs for the title (or things I've heard from boys on dates--with the exception of the one that didn't get to a date):
Things that are harder to do, statistically, than getting into Harvard or, y'know, elsewhere:
I am not a fan of pantyhose in any variation, which is why my stocking-less legs are currently quite cold (it was that or the stiletto-heeled boots and coldness won out over pain at least until tonight, when I might switch it up). But I respect other people's legwear choices, so long as they don't tell me my pedicured toenails aren't tznius.
A friend tore this out of a magazine for me. It's actually a car ad (the tag line is "Something new to crave"), but whatever. On that note, I think it is coffee time. What's that you say? It's 9:15 at night? As someone I know once said, "I'll sleep when I'm dead."