My parents raised me that you never ask people about their reproductive plans. “You don’t know their situation,” my mom would say. I considered it such an impolite question that for years I didn’t even ask myself. Thirty-five turned into forty faster than McDonald’s food turns into cold nonfood.

I feel like there is a lot of inherent humor in the stress and insanity surrounding that process. People lose their minds, trying to prove their parental worth by getting their children into one of five colleges; when there are thousands of good colleges across the United States - and elsewhere.

The more New Yorkers like something, the more disgusted they are. "The kitchen was all Sub-Zero: I want to kill myself. The building has a playroom that makes you want to break your own jaw with a golf club. I can't take it.

I feel about Photoshop the way some people feel about abortion. It is appalling and a tragic reflection on the moral decay of our society…unless I need it, in which case, everybody be cool.

I was a little excited but mostly blorft. "Blorft" is an adjective I just made up that means 'Completely overwhelmed but proceeding as if everything is fine and reacting to the stress with the torpor of a possum.' I have been blorft every day for the past seven years.

It’s no more dangerous to society than a radio broadcast of The War of the Worlds.

What Turning Forty Means to Me I need to take my pants off as soon as I get home. I didn't used to have to do that. But now I do.