Nina’s Published Essays and Humor
Beware the Perimenopausal Super Sob – It May Not Mean What You Think It Means.
Help! My Body is Making Sexual Ozempic!
Can I overcome the cosmically cruel “womp womp” of my early fifties? It feels like I’m at risk of losing my orgasms.
Here I was in one of the world’s largest synagogues, unable to stop crying. What could possibly distract us from what we were going through? There were limits to even what Phil Rosenthal could do.
How to Find a Boyfriend on the Subway
If there's anything you can spare, even a kind word, or something like telling me: "It'll work out for you when the time is right. You won't be alone for the rest of your life.”
My Dirty Little Pole Dancing Secret
“Making something look sexy is hard work,” said one instructor. Another said, “When you slap your thighs here, you can use the opportunity to wipe the sweat off your palms.”
What Happened When an Introvert Loner Moved in With Her Extrovert Boyfriend
Everything I needed to change or eradicate was now blaringly clear: the light-sucking, mood-depressing stormy sea colored gray-teal living room walls; the big brown, round, faux wood “dinosaur butthole” mirror hanging above the sofa; the slow dense creep of someone else’s consciousness in my periphery, constantly.
My Grandmother and I Asked the Same Question: Why Can't I Love a Good Guy?
I was sitting on the balcony floor watching PBS on her portable television when she came up the wood and iron spiral staircase, went to a low shelf, pulled out a cardboard box and said, "These are my journals. You can go through them if you like.”
Me Flying Super First Class with Ray Liotta
“No, not at all, put your feet wherever you like. That's what these plastic carpeted airplane walls are for. I'm sorry, I have to apologize again. It's hard to stop looking into your eyes. It's like they're piercing my soul and drilling into my darkest secrets.”
The Secret Heart of the Divorced Middle Aged Man
Still handsome and fairly fit I am/not married anymore and free/to explore you/as you are/and are not/my ex-wife.
9 Things I Hate About Having A Boyfriend (After Years Of Never Really Having One)
8. I hate that when he skillfully kills a fly on his bedroom wall or shows me, on an app on his phone, where the moon is – it’s hanging under the concrete under our feet – I hate that these things melt my heart bit by bit.
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