Girl on the Brink: Surviving Desperate Times with Desperate Measures

ANN’S NOTE: Andrew Beaujon, managing editor of Washington City Paper, spoke with me yesterday and updated his blog entry, Washington Post Profile Brings Up Touchy Subject: What Claim Do Writers Have on Their Bylines?

Everything south seems to provide comfort—south of the waist, south of the border and southern food.

We all need a little comfort now and then, especially when unemployment seems terminal, and the art of balancing cash flow on $1,000 or less is like juggling eggs. I often feel as if I’m lying in state somewhere (nice) until the jolt of my kids shocks me into action to do something (for them).

But let me address the three areas that provide me comfort after I’ve sent out a swath of resumes and don’t hear boo.

Food: I love comfort food, such as baked cheese grits, carrot cake, hummingbird cake (got pineapple and thick cream cheese frosting), and Fettucine Alfredo with its I-haven’t-had-in-a-while cream sauce. All good. All sinful. All Ann.

South of the border: Really, anywhere, as long as I don’t have to pitch a tent on a beach and sleep on a pad. Gnats and what or who might find me don’t appeal to my penchant for Egyptian cotton sheets and someone I know.

For destinations, I’d go back to Tobago Cays in the Southern Grenadines but lust for a sailing adventure in the Adriatic Sea.

South of the waist: I guess that would be mine. Well, it’s always better to have a partner for that—but not always possible.

In that situation, I take comfort in my brain, where I can think about anything. I can be a little devil or a little angel.

Since life is about being a little angel, let me serve you this erotic thought of the day, called “Signal” (have some that are a bit racier but feeling reserved).

I sometimes see women trying to respond to men hitting on them. They smile and flirt back, generally, but they want to have sex every bit as much as the guy, generally.

But while knowing how to flirt is built into our genes and our jeans, too many women don’t lead the man where they really want to go. Demure is sweet. Reserved is classy. But those get you popcorn at home in front of the TV on a Saturday night.

So Ann’s brief primer: hold eye contact too long, touch his arm when you’re talking or laughing, use your hair to your best advantage, respond to his suggestive language with your own. Signal to him to keep coming at you. He’s a man; he will.