TKOG Who … you love (now that she can dance)
NTKOG #68: The kind of girl who goes out on a Friday night and — god, it makes me cringe even to type this — attempts to dance. I am: like the perfect storm of non-dance: I have no rhythm, am a total spaz, hate touching people, don’t really like music, and am usually too embarrassed from your attempts to dance to focus on anything else. I am not: sure why we as a species dance anyway. Is it one of those things that’s supposed to emulate sex so potential mates can assess you? If so, why do so many girls wave one arm above their head and shout “WOO!” while doing it? Is that ̵

chronicles of the wing man
A non-NTKOG entry for you guys — a rare peek into the life of TKOG when I’m not busy taking risque classes or indulging in casual eating disorders for your entertainment. Tonight, after a long, tiring weekend doing absolutely nothing (after a grueling week of unemployment), I decided to give into my five-day craving for buffalo wings and watch a few episodes of House. Because pajamas were the order of the day, I used campusfood.com to place an order for delivery from my favorite wings place in Allston. After about forty-five minutes, my buzzer screamed to life. Lest you think I live and write in the lap of luxury, a little context: the buzzer system f

the kind of girl who is thankful
Happy Thanksgiving, guys! Or, at least, all you American dudes, and happy much-belated to all fantastic Canadians out there! Although a few Thanksgiving NTKOGs crossed my mind (The Kind of Girl Who … shocks and offends everyone at the table with a grim and unforgivable Thanksgiving confession?!), I hope you’ll forgive me for adding to the caloric monstrosity of the day with a little Thanksgiving Cheese. A few things I’m thankful for, not just on this day, but every day: Obviously, my incredible fam and friends. (Especially my brilliant and ridiculously cool mom, who recently guest-blogged about

TKOG Who … indulges in casual bulimia (TMI Thursday)
NTKOG #67: The kind of eating disordered girl who decides to cheat her body out of a few calories by the weirdest method possible. To wit, the “chew up your food then spit it in a bucket” diet. I am: quite fond of eating. The whole process. Including, y’know, the swallowing step. I am not: the main character in a Lifetime Movie. The Scene: My apartment. Ballsy though I am, I couldn’t quite bring myself to trying this one in public, so I picked up a slice of pizza and a piece of carrot cake at the mediocre pizzeria down the street.

The Kind of Girl Who … is quite busy and important, peon!
NTKOG #66: The kind of girl whose personal obligations are significantly more pressing than your own, and so who feels quite at home putting her needs before yours. I am: a bit less than the average amount of busy and important, on balance. I am not,: for instance, employed. Or, at present, wearing real pants. Some Context: I read about a study a few years ago, looking at line-cutting as a social phenomenon, and set in a copy store. There were two phases in the study. First, the experimenter would go to a machine with a line and simple ask to cut in front of the people ahead of him. In the