Sextion: Pre-Spanksgiving hickey removal

You have two days. Just two days to remove that large, unsightly hickey before going home to Mom, Dad, Grandma, and turkey. Worse yet, you might be going not to your own home but to someone else’s, maybe even your significant others’. The last thing you would want is for your partner’s parents to think that either of you is into strangulation. Eek!

Firstly, what is a hickey? A hickey is pretty much your average bruise, caused by the excessive sucking to soft skin. When the skin is sucked particularly hard, the blood vessels just below the surface of the skin rupture, pouring blood into the surrounding tissue. As the blood is no longer being oxygenated in this area, it loses its red coloring and as it clots and dries out, produces the purple or brown hickey we see so frequently, especially on Saturday and Sunday mornings. As the neck, with some of the softest skin on our bodies, is a particularly erogenous zone to many of us, it is the most common location for hickeys to form. It is also, unfortunately, a very visible part of the body.

So, for those who may have been feeling particularly vampirish after Halloween or in preparation for the new Twilight movie, and who want to avoid a great deal of embarrassment and awkward Thanksgiving dinner conversation, here are Monica’s tried and true tips to removing hickeys before you chow down on some turkey and stuffing:

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Brown student, certified N.A.N.N.Y.

It’s that time of year, folks. We’re done playing the Hungover Games of Spring Weekend. The birds are chirping, the sun is out, and herds of students are swarming into the SciLi for study hibernation. But the “time” I’m talking about isn’t reading period. I’m talking summer. I’m talking to those poor unfortunate souls who didn’t get that great internship, or even that okay internship. I speak to those poor Brown students who have been sentenced to the dregs of summer employment: childcare.

Coming soon to Avon

Yuck, you’re thinking. I didn’t go to Brown so I would have to live out my nightmare as a suburban housewife! We didn’t come to college to get no M.R.S. degree (or male equivalent)! Plus, Ivy League nannying feels like the plotline of a B-list feel-good movie: clueless over-privileged Brown student nannies kid, kid ends up teaching Brown kid valuable life lessons, Brown kid teaches younger kid to be hipster and play nice with the other kids on the playground. Blah blah blah. Ew.

But it pays. It pays good. But it comes at a price.

When it comes to nannying, I consider myself a veteran war hero caregiver. When I took medical leave this semester, I found a job I thought would be easy: nannying. I was wrong. So, so wrong. And now I have a few words of wisdom to impart: Continue Reading