What Can Dr. Brown Do For You?

I started up the steps to Lewis’ apartment, I hate ending things, I really do. Why isn’t this 2002? I could just do it via AIM, but NOOOO I have to be responsible and do it to his face…ugh. After over a month of seeing him, I knew things weren’t going to work out. Read the rest of this entry »

Pot & Condoms

“Okay Marina, I have to go google Russian penis jokes for your interview tomorrow. Bye bye!” My father said not waiting for a response. I guess I should explain how we got to this point. Read the rest of this entry »

Christmas is Cancelled.

My mother covers the camera on our family computer because according to her, “The government is watching us.” Why the U.S. government is watching two retirement-aged Russians, who have yet to learn how to properly pronounce the letter ‘V’, is beyond me. I try not to question my parents’ antics so I don’t run out of things to write about. Read the rest of this entry »

Big Girls Do Cry

“I love you,” he said. There is a point in the night where Brooklyn gets really quiet and really beautiful. It’s at this point everyone on the street falls in love with whatever is closest. For Gio, the closest whatever was me.

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Dimitry Eugenovich*

“I don’t know, ‘Dimitry’ is not a name you can scream out in the sack,” Leslie said looking up from the email I’d forwarded her. “Okay but how do I look in this dress?” I had 15 minutes to get ready for my first (and hopefully last) blind date. If I’d utilized my roommate’s date-reasoning, I probably would’ve avoided my last two nightmarish relationships. Read the rest of this entry »

Zipper Dee Doo Dah

There comes a time in every strong, independent, single girl’s life when she can’t zip her dress all the way. At this time, she crumbles to the floor in a pile of teary worthlessness and decides it’s time to start dating again. Read the rest of this entry »

Stopping to Start

“видиш это?”

“О да, прямо там?”

“да. Я думаю что нужно биопсии.”

What followed was a series of events that culminated into a “hypochondriacal break down” as my psychologist would later call it (but that’s in a few posts). Read the rest of this entry »

Don’t Get Mad, Get Vlad!

My dad wore a Speedo to our neighborhood swimming pool when I was little. I had two choices; die of embarrassment or become a humorist — I chose both.

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A pink thong greeted me as I got off the elevator. I wouldn’t have thought it to be that weird if it wasn’t still attached to its owner.

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Olga Shifrin vs. Kübler-Ross

“The worst part of going through labor is you’re not allowed to smoke a celebratory cigarette in the emergency room,” according to my mother. My mom is a certifiable badass. Read the rest of this entry »

An Open Letter to the Man who yelled “Show your vagina!”

Dear Mr. Heckler,

I first would like to apologize for not succumbing to your requests. As a comedienne and entertainer, it is my priority that every one who sees me perform – whether by choice or not – enjoy themselves as much as possible.

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Huffing And Puffing

I was a pretty average teenager; I wrote a lot of poetry and hated my dad. Do you need any more proof? That’s why I never had much of an interest revisiting the place where my misery manifested itself: Deerfield High School.

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Cold Turkey

Update: Due to unforeseen circumstances I am back at work. Which is ironic if you read the whole post. It’s a long complicated story that I can’t romanticize on this blog, BUT I don’t believe in pulling down posts. Maybe more to come about this, but probably not.

Double Update: Look out for a post with an update on the update. 

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Eating, Praying and Loving

The first time you have sex, after surgery, in nightmares: There are so many situations where being naked is simply terrifying.

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The 7-Day Plan

The thing is, Julia Roberts has way more time and money than I have. So when I decided to go find myself; I couldn’t take three months off, visit three countries or do whatever-else it is she did in Eat, Pray Love. But I did have seven days to get my emotional shit in order, so I put together a plan.

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Leaving On A Jet Plane

The last thing my Mom said to me before I got off the phone was, “Well, that’s really stupid Marina.” And it was really stupid.

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It’s Getting Chile

I love living in New York more than anything I have ever loved (including peanut butter, small bows and a well-made vodka martini), but I need to get out.

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Rent+Utilities for your walk-in closet of an apartment: $900 a month

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Dear Joe

I nearly broke my neck diving out of bed to answer the phone. It’s him, It’s him, It has to be him. “Yeah?” Who answers the phone with ‘Yeah’?

“Hellooooo!” My mother yodeled, she called to ask about the latest charge on my credit card. I need to change my password.

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Modern-Day Cinderella*

Once upon a time, there was a girl trying to survive in a very big city. One night, in her haste to slip out of a cab, the girl lost a shoe. Before she could yell out, the cab disappeared into the blurry, but well-lit, horizon.

As  the girl ran down 4th ave (in one shoe) she thought, How whimsical and free-spirited, but when she sobered up she just realized, how stupid.

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Secrets, Secrets

The word secret should have a negative connotation, but for some reason it comes off as sexy.
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Perfect: Post

A week in the life of my feet, or should I say shoes? Anyway…

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HI! Pochondria.

You know that mirror dance every girl does when trying on a piece of clothing? You walk up to the mirror analyze your body. Swivel. Do the obligatory butt-check and ultimately realize this is not the ‘you’, you want stepping out of the house that morning.

I have done the mirror dance often, except instead of clothing I try on various disorders and addictions.

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Dating to Death

Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. It’s the natural pattern your chest follows when you’re, well…alive. Sometimes it speeds up, and other times it slows down. On Saturday, March 12, at 12:47 a.m. my chest went up and did not come back down.

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In a New York Minute: Morning Commute

8:51 a.m – Step out of the apartment.
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The Remainder

I’m running. I could hear whistles and cat-calls as I sprinted down 7th avenue. My short dress was flying up exposing my pink and black-checkered underwear, but I didn’t care because I was late.
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Get up, Stand-up

Three things happened after my debut on Broadway:

  1. I cried because I had been 1 minute over my time limit.
  2. Jesus told me I would become famous.
  3. Judah Friedlander fist bumped me.

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Noah’s brow furrowed as he studied my drawing. I hadn’t gotten two steps into his apartment before he had suggested we draw. Noah was full of these random, simple ideas that somehow always ended up de-stressing me. I’d had a long day at the office and was exhausted but I couldn’t break my plans to see him.

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Blood and Bathtubs

Cahue: My Brazilian Neighbor

The backside of a sweaty cameraman greeted me as I stumbled out my bedroom Monday morning.

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I just had my heart broken three seconds ago. I was writing a post entitled “Running with Rabbis”. I was just rounding out the fourth paragraph when it happened out of nowhere.

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Sex and The City

You have to turn off my air conditioner to turn on my coffee maker.

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In a New York State of Mind

Dear Olga and Vladimir,

Hi, it’s Marina from the past. By past, I mean I wrote this post a few hours ago in small bagel place that doesn’t have internet (similar to my apartment). Dad, you will be happy to know that I had the lox, cream cheese, onion, cucumber and tomato bagel keeping my Jewish roots intact.

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