A few months ago, I was faced with a dilemma: How to get my ex-boyfriend’s shit out of my apartment and QUICK because it was annoying me. How do I do this? I thought. Am I supposed to go all the way to Brooklyn to bring it to him? Should he come to my place?… Read more »
Happy belated Valentine’s day to all the Big City Sirens out there. This year, I actually have a Valentine, and it even has a penis! The relationship is new, so I thought I’d go over a few new relationship tips because girls are, well, stupid. I’m stupid, you’re stupid, we’re all stupid. And if you… Read more »
The other day I was running errands in my neighborhood when I thought I heard someone call my name. I looked over, saw someone I didn’t know, and assumed he must be referring to some other Lindsey. I turned up Robyn on my ipod (great break-up music, btw), but after three more Lindsey‘s the guy… Read more »
I really, really liked my last relationship. The guy was awesome. We fell for each other instantly and were super compatible. He cooked, he had a huge stuffed dinosaur next to his bed that wore funky sunglasses, and he loved to take pictures of his poop—a total catch! The only problem was that he had… Read more »
Oh the joys of being single! The crazy nights out, the boys flocking to you and throwing themselves at your feet, the endless evenings devoted to eating string cheese and sweet potatoes in your underwear while watching episodes of The View on your DVR. (Did you see Whoopi’s shoes Friday? Amazing.) Last night, for the first… Read more »
New York may be the best city in which to live, but it’s also the hardest. Sometimes, you have to remind yourself why you moved here—like when it’s 15 degrees and you’re walking to work, or when you step onto a subway car during rush hour and you’re slammed up against a smelly stranger, or… Read more »
Over the past few months, running has become a major theme in my life. No, I’m not running away from my problems (I have dealt with the fact that I am going to die alone head on), and I’m not suffering from a case of the runs (although if you are, I hear Imodium works wonders). I’ve been… Read more »
Women learn a lot about themselves in their 20s and 30s. They learn that using the phrase “You don’t love me like I love you,” while faux-crying is not really cute. They learn that when they get gas, it’s more likely linked to the broccoli they ate at lunch than a spontaneous pregnancy. They learn… Read more »
I decided to start writing Big City Siren after a homeless man peed on me…
