My manpiece doesn’t cook. Okay, well he tries sometimes. Before we lived together, his kitchen repertoire consisted of: noodles with crazy salt, noodles with cheese, noodles with cheese and crazy salt, and steak.

As a vegan/omni couple, we have a “no animals in the kitchen” thing going on, so his cooking skill-set is knocked even further back. He’s the master of oat meal.

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Some of us are really awful at apologizing. Instead of making a whoopsie better, we end up backing ourselves into the hole we already dug. Sometimes, it’s an accident. We might really be attempting at a sincere apology, but we don’t understand what an apology really looks like.

Below are a handful of ways you can give a heartfelt apology that will hopefully get you out of trouble without making you look (any more) like a jerk.

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A lagging sex life is the number one signal that something is awry in a relationship, followed by the urge to punch a hole in the wall if you have to watch your partner chew with their mouth open for one.more.second. Okay, the second issue just means you’re spending too much time together. But the first—the mysterious vanishing of your sex life—is a real red flag.

When you cease to want to fuggle your partner, it’s often a symptom of a larger issue that needs to be addressed. You know how it feels: You still think they’re attractive, but you’re not really all that attracted to them anymore…

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I’m gonna get a little long-winded and sappy today guys, so bear with me. If any of you follow along regularly with this column (Hi, Mom!) then you know that 6 month ago my manfriend and I decided to leave the East Coast and move to Hawai’i where we would pursue a shared creative dream (form a production company, write/produce/direct feature films) and live together…for the first time.

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This photo was taken last summer. While it doesn't have anything to do with playing pretend, poop is funny, and April 1st is all about funny.

This photo was taken last summer. While it doesn’t have anything to do with playing pretend, poop is funny, and April 1st is all about funny.

It’s April fools day, everybody! All around the country, people are playing with one another. I dig it. I stupidly chose this day to announce on the Internet that I am moving to Hawaii in 8 weeks, and now all of my friends not inside my core communication sphere (those people knew this has been brewing) think it’s a joke. Boy, will they be surprised come June when my Instagram feed is brimming with pictures of me hacking down coconuts.

But this post is not about my up-and-coming move. It’s about playing pretend. I have never actually pretended to be someone else during sex. While I am down for some dress up, full on role playing and I have never become acquainted. I am happy enough to be “Z dressed like school girl.” It has never really occurred to me to then ACT like a school girl.

But a type of pretend playing I am familiar with is pretending to be strangers. Not in bed. In public. This is something my boyfriend and I do randomly, and it started one evening on the train, without any planning.

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“Do you wanna get naked? Yeah me neither…”

When you find yourself hit with a bad case of feelings, “Friend” can be the ultimate F word. We have seen a million cheesy rom-coms that end with previously platonic bffs falling in love, and you know it just doesn’t happen that way. The most believable part of When Harry Met Sally is when Meg Ryan fakes an orgasm in the diner.

In real life, we all know what happens when a friend catches feelings for another friend: they get caught in the infamous “friend zone,” a topic over-done in the rom-com department in 2011 alone. So on the day in summer of 2011 that I found myself randomly holding hands with my best dude at an Alexander McQueen exhibit, my mind imploded with questions… This is just a friendly hand-hold, right? I mean, friends hold hands. And cuddle. When did he start smelling so good?

P and I had been friends for just shy of 10 years, and nothing had ever happened between us. Nothing had even come close to happening between us. I spent most of our youth making out with various members of his garage band, and once at a party I played bouncer outside a dark bedroom as he fooled around with my friend inside. I’m STILL a believer in platonic male/female friendships, and while sure, I thought he was an attractive person, I was more interested in helping him get handies from my girlfriends than giving him one myself. He was sort of like my good looking older brother…

Which is why it was bizarre when I suddenly found myself wanting to remove his clothes with my teeth.

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It’s Friday! That means it’s time for my Lusty Vegan column on

I typed “talk” into my Google image search and this came up. Ha!

Communication is a bitch. It’s absurd how in a world where we’re all so connected 24/7, we can simultaneously be utturly disconnected to each other. But trust and communication are the pillars to a healthy relationship. Yeah, love and chemistry and the fact that you both like Apatow comedies and Chinese food are all important, but without trust and communication, everything will fall to shit. If your communication is bad, then your relationship is doomed. DUN DUN DUN. Just kidding. Like everything else, you can work on improving communication, but it’s hard, and you have to really commit. Here are a few helpful suggestions/exercises for those who are shoddy communicators, and/or are partnered up with someone who has trouble fessing.

Big note: there is a difference between being quiet and being unable to communicate properly.

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You guys, sorry for neglecting you! I have been crazy busy and AFTER I was crazy busy, I went to visit my mom in Hawaii and have yet to return. It’s really hard to write with all this sunshine and tropical fruit. But here is my weekly column from! And you can also keep up with me at Sorry! Stay tuned for more island adventure fun…

I’m being facetious. This was my real life this week, and NOT a fantasy. #bragbragbrag

If your Valentine’s day was more Love Stinks than Love Actually, then you might welcome a little bit of fantasy right about now.

Fantasy, or “pretending” as you called it in your youth, can be a useful tool in all facets of your life. All those uplifting think-yourself-happy motivational types swear by using fantasy to improve yourself, except they call it “visualizing.” Visualizing yourself landing that promotion or killing that presentation will make you more likely to do so. That’s all good and well, but none of that is as fun as sexytime fantasizing.

Sexual fantasy allows you to explore sides of your sexuality you may not be able to in real life, and it creates a safe, super hot space for you to retreat to when you need a little, cough, motivation. Role playing? Done. Bondage? Yes please. Sex in public? On it! Sex with your ex, or best friend, or teacher, or boss? You betcha. Pony play? Uhm…maybe?

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This post was originally published for my Lusty Vegan column on

Okay we get it! You’re flexible and you like each other.

It happens to the best of us: You’re super into your relationship and spending every second of your free time marinating in each other. One day you wake up and realize it has been weeks since you spent quality time with your friends, your family is pissed, oh and your regular runs and yoga nights? Traded in for hardcore fuggle sessions. You’ve been wifeyed. The male equivalence of this is hubbied. I hubbied up my college boyfriend so fast his friends started calling me Yoko Ono. “No no guys, I’m not forcing him to break up the band! It’s just that finding new ways to remove my underwear is probably more appealing than watching South Park in an apartment that smells like vomit and beer…”

This type of couple cocooning can be dangerous; if it doesn’t work out, instead of emerging a beautiful butterfly you come out wide-eyed, disheveled and realizing you’ve lost track of all of your friends, and no one likes getting that “hey I’m single now, wanna hang out?” phone call after 8 months of silence.

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A puppy pile is perhaps the only thing that rivals my love for monogamy…

I have been thinking a lot recently about polyamorous relationships, so bear with me folks, because this is going to be long and ranty. I’m an addict, and in the past week two articles have surfaced—one from Jessica on not understanding open relationships, and one from Kate (Ladycrush alert! Look at her adorable pixie haircut! Swoon.) on how she is dating a couple.

But the site has a plethora of articles about the topic, including a series from one woman whose boyfriend wanted to open the relationship. Readers watched the couple open it (well, read about it) and saw the relationship fail  “epically” as a result.

I enjoyed reading all of the different takes on monogamy, polyamory and open relationships, and sometimes—especially when reading about people who seem so much more emotionally evolved than I—I worry my passion for monogamy is a bit archaic.

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