The Seduction of Words

Literature lust. Dirty Talk. Thick and Big…19th century novels.

Late night conversations. Whispers. Meaty memoirs and well-crafted sonnets.

The feeling a person gets when cradling a thick novel full of endless possibilities, failures, and triumphs.


There is nothing more seductive than meeting a stranger, (in the world of the novel or memoir) and seeing where this stranger will take you physically, emotionally, possibly sexually, and literally/metaphorically.

What I love most about books is someone else who shares the same passion for reading. For entering into a world in which only the author has control, and you my friend, is meant to take the trip as they set the stage.

Books and conversation. Deep meaningful conversation. Quiet whispers. Lustful statements. Bold directives. Shy questions. Continue reading

What Single Men Should Do On Valentine’s Day


If cupid hasn’t struck you yet, don’t despair. You’re probably better off in fact.

While most guys could probably give two f@*ks about Valentine’s Day, I still have some amazing suggestions on how to celebrate in style whether you’re a player, an emo-depressive, or a guy’s guy. Read my suggestions for men of all creeds here in Male Standard.

If you’re a good boy or girl, might you find me on Facebook and be my friend. I’m feeling lonely. Don’t leave me hanging. What do I need to do to convince all of you to find me? Maybe I will have to post ridiculous photos of myself.

Or not.

By the way, in case you think I’m disloyal, I will soon have a post for my single ladies.

Love to you all, and if Cupid strikes you with his arrow, I hope he/she is hot, ready-to-go, and intelligent enough to have a decent conversation.

Shot to the heart,


6 question quiz to tell if your male or female partner is a hero or a zero!

Screw all the major magazines and their advice columns. Half of them are probably penned by 22 year-olds who have yet to wake up from their hangovers from the other night. What do they know about the intricacies, heartaches, and pitfalls of marital life and/or long-term relationships?

While they’re probably great people and writers, get your advice from someone who got paid to sing musical theatre in her undies, was entangled in an unwanted foursome at age 14, and used to harass people to karaoke with her in the middle of the city streets.

Now that’s a woman who knows what she’s talking about!

Look, I have dated so many zeros, it’s amazing my last name isn’t Lifshitzoooooooo. Or that I don’t have a 1mil bank roll.

Nope, instead, I’ve got a quick 6 question quiz designed to tell you if your partner–male or female– is a hero, or a zero.

It takes 5 minutes. Indulge.

Continue reading

Guys Want Sex on Valentine’s Day: Pamper the Guys this Valentine’s 2014

Valentine’s Day is notoriously marketed for women. And yes, I know it’s a Halmark holiday, but it exists, and if you’re a part of a couple, fling, or marriage, if you haven’t decided to nix Valentine’s Day celebrations from your pairing, expect that there might be some “expectations” for February 14th. And let me tell you, ladies hate for our expectations to be let down, but that doesn’t mean that on this day of roses, chocolates, and marriage proposals it’s just about us.

Men have needs too. In fact, your man might share these needs with you more than you’d like, but in case you weren’t listening, or you have never considered what a guy might want for Valentine’s Day, I’ve offered my suggestions on how to make your best man feel like a King here in Male Standard. Please read my article and share!

With that said, I hope men all over thank me for my good deed and pay me by following my blog, my Facebook or Twitter page, sharing this post, or by sending me chocolates and other toys.

Remember people, without sex and love, we’d be beating the crap out of each other and lonely.

Fighting the good fight,


To the Parents I Judged When I Was a Teacher (Before I Was A Parent): Crap. I’m Sorry


When I was a teacher, (assisted in a preschool class, kindergarten class, second grade class, SAT prep, taught Pre-K, and tutored ages 3- adult) I was not yet a parent. It was amazing how wise I thought I was about the ways of children.

Little did I know that I was just a mere fool in this world known as parenting. Not that I wasn’t a good teacher–I certainly was, but to the parents I judged when I was  teacher and not yet a mom, gulp, I’m sorry man.

What’s with that kid’s clothes? Continue reading

I don’t know what the hell I am doing: A Parent’s Cry

If you are a parent and you think you know what you are doing, think again.

I mean, look, my parents thought I was just an adorable and outgoing little girl. They didn’t know they were raising a future “barn burner,” big-mouth, seducer of all, and trouble-maker.

They just thought wrong.

They thought they knew what they were doing.

Newsflash: none of us do.

They probably figured that they were clueless about me upon finding out that I was asking total strangers to buy me food while at the mall.

And shoving phones and crotchless panties into my boots to shoplift.

Tisk, tisk. It was a short phase in my life, okay?

The crotchless panties are totally cool. The ones I stole were Santa ones…and my mom sewed them up the front. Man, what I wouldn’t do for a new pair…pretty sure the pair I had at 15 are long gone.

Anywhoo, I digress. The point of all this is to say, I have no clue what I am doing as a parent.

Sure, I think I know what I am doing, but f*#k. I don’t know what I am doing.

Today, my daughter basically ignored me as I asked her to put on her hat and coat so we could get her to school, so I could work.

While I asked and got “firm” and made my threats after asking nicely, she just went about doing whatever the hell she felt like, because she is my child, and therefore I am screwed.

Finally, I got her into the car, only for her to finally realize that I meant it:

We wouldn’t be going to Starbucks to get her favorite cookies because she had been a bad listener.

I had told her if she got ready on time, we could go, but now alas, she finally decided, “Oh shit, mommy means this. No cookies.”

And so the ride to school was full of tears and sad faces.

Part of me thought, Laura, you’re doing the right thing. Stick to your guns.

The other part said, She doesn’t want to leave home to go to school because she misses you…and has been tough with you since you started dropping her off one day a week. It’s a cookie for fuck’s sake.

And I know…kids are spoiled these days, yadda, yadda, yadda. And you do have to be tough mommy. In fact, I am bad cop in my house, but I find myself being bad cop sometimes when I should be good, and vice versa.

Ask me how to seduce a man or woman, and hurrah!– I have the answer.

Ask me what’s the best bra to wear, or a great book from the 19th century, or which song was the B-side on Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” 45.

Ask me if masturbation will make you go blind. How to conjugate the French verb  for to do. Ask me how to do ballet positions. The lyrics to “Give my regards to Broadway,” or “Me So Horny.”

Ask me how to raise a kid?

Eh Fuck off. I said it.

Who knows what’s right? I can tell you buying my daughter the cookie was probably wrong. I can tell you I did it because I lost my patience with her and felt guilty.

I can tell you she was polite when she got the cookie, and charmed everyone in the place.

I can tell you breast feeding worked for me, and that co-sleeping here and there didn’t make my kid “needy.” And that she survived disposable diapers.

But hell, whether or not in the end I will have done a good job, who knows?

Maybe she’ll sit in a therapist’s office and say, “Hey Shrink: my mom wrote a memoir, and in it she had this terrible foursome at age 14. She’s pretty fucked up.” Maybe she’ll say I was too doting. Too strict. A nut job. Too flirtatious with people.

Maybe she’ll say I was too blonde.

Gasp. Never.

All I know is I am trying my best. Parenting is a “learn as you go” job. Your resume means shit, your clocked hours help you make choices, but you won’t know if it’s right until your kids are grown and hopefully, like you.

So never tell a parent what the right thing to do. You only know what you think is right.

Is it?

Let’s speak to our kids’ therapists when they are older.

We’ll see who has fewer emotional scars.

Was it the organic fed kids? Or the ones whose parents said,”Here, have an oreo.”

Good luck my fellow parents.

And remember there is no winner: we just survive, and hopefully, the kids do too.

With cookies, tea, and crotchless panties,


The Question I Should Have Never Asked

It’s a stormy few days here on the East Coast. I’ve worked from home the past two days because the commute would have been dangerous.

After doing my work, I sat down at the end of the day and watched a movie with my sick kid. It was my very first Tinkerbell movie, and I’m sure it’s not my last.

In the movie, Tinkerbell discovers her “talent.” What she’s good at and has a gift for.

So as I’m bathing my little peanut just almost 2 months shy of her third birthday, I ask her what her talents are. What she’s good at.

Because she’s already a thespian, she quotes from the movie dramatically, “I’m not good at anything!”

“Of course you are!” I respond, adding, “You’re great at singing, building, and drawing. You have many talents. What is daddy good at?”

Swooshing her bathtub fairies around in a magical dance she answers, “Daddy is good at singing.”

“He is, that’s true. What about Mommy? What is Mommy good at?”

“Mommy is good at the computer and taking the school bus and going to work and coming home.”

While I have the memory of a hawk, there are very few things that people say that are that impactful that I will remember what they said for the rest of my life.

This my friends, is something I will never, ever forget

People told me, oh working parents make up for it during the time they are around. That’s what kids remember.

I feel like I’ve been lied to.

My daughter failed to mention my singing. All the times I take her everywhere. The museums, day trips, city trips, book store, play dates, cookie and chocolate shopping/eating, beach, boardwalk, etc.

That I taught her beginning words in French, numbers, phonetics, shapes, colors, days of the week, etc, etc. And to be honest, she taught herself mostly everything.

But the fact is, when my daughter thinks of me, she thinks of me working. She thinks of me gone. She doesn’t think of the time with her.

And I basically wanted to place myself into a coffin. I tried to remind myself of the feminist view.

Look,I think, she sees me as a viable part of the world. Life. A worker. A career woman. How bad can that be?

And I know you can say, “She’s only 3 what does she know,” but I believe kids are honest and smarter than some foolish adults think. This is her new definition of her mother.

I know that we all have times in our lives as people and as parents when we hit rough patches. When we are forced to make choices we don’t want to make, or hit upon hard times that seem to last forever. What makes those times so much better, I suppose, is having support or a team mentality. Or feeling like there is an end in sight.

I feel neither. I feel alone and as if there is no easy solution in sight.

Sometimes, I write because I have something to say. And other times I write because I need other people. I despise that about myself.

I admire that my daughter, who enjoys playing with both boys and girls, still needs to be alone, and is fine with this.

It’s not that I cannot be alone, because I certainly have been, but that I think I need that human connection maybe more than she might as an adult. And I wish sometimes that I didn’t, because then I wouldn’t care if I felt so alone.

What amazes me about my child is her amazing sense of self and identity at such a young age. I cherish the fact that she is such an individual and strong little girl.

If you ever want to know how your child views you, just ask. You will be amazed at their answers. Their honesty will always reveal more than you want to hear, but you must hear it.

I hope one day my daughter will remember me as more than the mom at the computer, on the bus, away from her.

I hope she will remember me right in her heart.


The Lonely Heartbroken Feminist Mother


Fighting Fair: How to avoid the frying pan to the head when arguing

Boxing Gloves

Sometimes it’s not very easy to stay calm when your partner has pissed you off or hurt you.

It takes a lot for me to stay angry with anyone; I’m a mush like that, and am known for being a softie, unless someone has created continual damage repeatedly. Once that has happened, getting a ticket back into my show is not easy. While I will extend the invite, I will do it cautiously, but it takes a whole lot for me to get to that point because I’m too nice. Continue reading

I Won’t Let a Man Abuse a Woman in Front of Me: Tales From The Bus

A few years back, there I was on the bus back into the city from my parent’s home in New Jersey. I was in my first year at Columbia, and diving head first into amazing classes on writing and psychology, as well as a few feminist courses. I was in my finest day: I love academics. Nothing makes me happier than a huge novel to read and write about.

Call me a loser, or just someone who doesn’t get enough action?

Or maybe you’re a lit-whore like myself. Welcome to the tribe jedi.

Anywhoo, there I was, just sitting in my seat, getting ready to study on the hour and a half ride when I heard him.

I heard a male voice berating the woman next to him. Continue reading

4 Reasons Why Staying at a Mental Home is Easier Than Being a Working Mother

4 Reasons Why Staying at a Mental Home is Easier Than Being a Working Mother


When I was a teenager, I had a brief month-long stay at a psychiatric treatment center. I was depressed, experienced rape and abuse, and was “experimenting” with substances to medicate those terrible experiences. It was no joke, and to be honest, I don’t think these hospitals helped at all. For me, it was just a month-long babysitter and didn’t do zilch. Of course, I wasn’t ready to deal with those problems really so maybe that was why, but the point is…

If you are a working mother, you might want to consider visiting the mental home. Life is easier there.

Here’s why: Continue reading