Working as a journalist is exactly like being a wallflower at an orgy.

I am not a new journalist, whatever that is. I just sit here at the typewriter and bang away at the old forms.

So many of the conscious and unconscious ways men and women treat each other have to do with romantic and sexual fantasies that are deeply ingrained, not just in society but in literature. The women's movement may manage to clean up the mess in society, but I don't know whether it can ever clean up the mess in our minds.

Sometimes I believe that some people are better at love than others, and sometimes I believe that everyone is faking it.

I have no desire to be dominated. Honestly I don't. And yet I find myself becoming angry when I'm not.

Every so often I would look at my women friends who were happily married and didn't cook, and I would always find myself wondering how they did it. Would anyone love me if I couldn't cook? I always thought cooking was part of the package: Step right up, it's Rachel Samstat, she's bright, she's funny and she can cook!

The Senior Moment has become the Google moment, and it has a much nicer, hipper, younger, more contemporary sound, doesn't it? By handling the obligations of the search mechanism, you almost prove you can keep up.