The one thing I really loathed about singledom was the whole “in-between” stage of casual dating. You know, the swampy ground that begins after the third date and haunts you until you’re forced to have an uncomfortable conversation that usually begins with “So…what are we?” The relationship pre-ejaculate, if you will. It’s not as exciting as the real thing, but still a necessary stepping stone…

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Valentine’s day is the cilantro of the American holiday circuit …you either love it, or it leaves a nasty taste in your mouth. Personally, I have a tumultuous relationship with the holiday, which started during an excruciating 4 month stint working at Hallmark in high school, where I was forced to stock mass produced, impersonal greeting cards and listen to Michael Bublé’s Caught in the Act album on repeat. I still cringe whenever I hear a Bublé track.

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Several months back, I was at a friend’s pool party, and over the buffet table, she made a passing comment about how I was vegan. You know, the usual “Zoe isn’t going to want any of that lamb, since she’s vegan.” As I continued to attack the hummus platter, you can imagine my surprise when a complete stranger to my left turned and said “So if you’re vegan, why do you have acne?”

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Ah, depression, you miserable bitch. Anyone who has ever suffered from this condition knows it can be dark, cold, and hopeless. Whether you’re depressed due to life circumstances, or a chemical imbalance, or (most usually) both, depression is never fun, and it’s hard to shake. But what happens when it’s not you who is down, but your partner?

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