Dear Mirena,

First of all, hello. We’ve never been formally introduced. Unless, of course, you consider being abruptly inserted into my uterus by a doctor whose face was buried in my vagina “formal.” I’m Dani — the owner of the uterus inside which you live. I wish we had had some more time to get to know each other, but here we are — two years later and I know nothing about you. What are your hopes? Your dreams? Have you always wanted to be 99.9% effective at preventing pregnancy? How did you land on the T-shape? Do you have…

From the ages of 11 to 22, I spent almost every weekend at Jewish youth group events in L.A., and summers at a Jewish summer camp in Santa Rosa, California. Once we entered high school, our youth group had a point system: The more hookups you had, the more points you got. The teens in leadership positions were worth more. I was never in youth group leadership, but I often found myself in the bed, backseat, or sleeping bag of a boy that was.

According to our point system I wasn’t worth much on my own, but every kiss, every…

Since my 4.5 year relationship ended just over 2 years ago, I have absolutely refused to be alone. I got a taste of the coupled up life and have been in the aggressive pursuit of reclaiming that status from the moment I was dumped while heating up a Trader Joe’s burrito for lunch in the kitchen we shared. I re-activated my Hinge account the following day.

I was devastated when we broke up. Not because I was losing him, but because I was losing that relationship status. Sure, I loved Brad — but only as much as you could love…

It has recently come to my attention that I am “not cool”, “for olds” and “over” and I would like to take this opportunity to defend myself. And I’d like to start by asking: since when do the youths have a say? Back in my day, old white men decided how things should be and they never had a problem with my location on the deep left side of the scalp.

These middle-parters on TikTok seem to think that being a side part is a choice. It is not. My millennial was born this way and as much as she…

Stage 1: Panic

So this is how I die? Alone in my thirties in a basement apartment with my Wiccan roommate and her miniature dachshund in the next room? I wonder if any of my exes are available to marry me immediately. Okay, no. This is fine. Let me just update the ‘Looking for’ in my dating app profiles to: “Someone with a large one — two-bedroom apartment, a 401K, and who will love me unconditionally but also leave me alone most of the time. Bonus points if you have a dog.”

Stage 2: Patience

I mean, how much longer could this last — a month…

In the spirit of Ted Cruz, Josh Hawley, Lindsey Graham, Mitch McConnel, Marco Rubio, and of course, Donald Trump — a crew I have affectionately nicknamed “The Sycophant Six”, I’d like to take this opportunity to unequivocally condemn the consequences of any and all questionable, despicable, or insurrection inducing actions I have ever taken. In reading this statement I hope you will join me in shirking responsibility, lying, and moving on — for the good of m̶y ̶p̶o̶l̶i̶t̶i̶c̶a̶l̶ ̶c̶a̶r̶e̶e̶r ̶ the country.

My full statement:

• The condition of my living room rug is a shocking assault on the aesthetic of…

1. Live a healthier lifestyle by getting vaccinated before Brittany — your high school nemesis, longtime Facebook friend, and current multi-level marketing scheme participant. If you can’t figure out a way to get inoculated before someone that peddles Avon Products for “a living” then please consider yourself a failure.
2. Travel more than just between your bed and your couch. Show the mid-century modern living room accent chair you bought from your racist neighbor on Nextdoor some love. It too would like to mold into the shape of your ass.
3. Save money on car insurance by switching to GEICO. And then selling…

Striking the right balance between quality family time, a dating life, free laundry, and not exposing your family to a deadly virus because of your dating life can be tough. Especially when said deadly virus is more prevalent than (and just as likely to be undetectable as) HPV. So what’s a thirty-something-year-old single woman who chose to be in a COVID bubble with her family but is also desperately trying to get laid (me) supposed to do? Well, here are some options:

1. Just do it.

No huss no fuss, rip off the band-aid. Force your parents to acknowledge that you are a sexual…