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Arlene Schindler

Arlene Schindler often says, "I come from a long line of miserable people." This is her shorthand for growing up in what she calls "an iconoclastic, dramatic Brooklyn Jewish family." She writes and speaks frequently about issues of Jewish identity, East coast angst and feelings of invisibility at mid-life.

Using humor and affection, she's tackled topics like dating, marriage to a sex addict, divorce (not a surprise), as well as diet, weight and emotional eating.She's an author and speaker sharing humorous tales of women's secrets and desires.Arleneoriginated the comedy column forThe New York Post, writing reviews and profiles of comedians appearing in New York City. It was the first of its kind in the country, helping spur comedy's greatest growth period. Her writing has appeared inThe Los Angeles Times,Daily Variety,Purple Clover, HuffingtonPostand many other publications.

Arlene's newly published funny memoir,Stand Up & Heartbreak: A Comic and a Sex Addict Walk Into a Marriage (HumorOutcasts Press), "features love, lies, jokes and pizza...something from all the vital food groups." She is also a contributor to the anthologyWomen Under Scrutiny and has written a novel, The Last Place She'd Look.She also contributed to Moms are Nuts: Just Don't Tell Them We Said So, described as acollection of stories about mothers, grandmothers, mother-in-laws and mother figures who have crossed the paths of some of the wittiest writers and comedians.

Previous Post

My doughy rump

My husband and I have been married so long we have our own food signal system. A quick wave of the biscuit cutter means we're headed for hot, buttered, biscuit heaven. An ice cream scoop on the counter sets a course for rocky road. A little bell rung at four o'clock is a cue to grab a glass and muster for happy hour. We spent all autumn signaling. Then one morning, I got a big signal we'd better stop-I sat down to put on my shoes, and blew out the seat of my pants. Duly warned, I put on m ...
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In metal, chivalry is dead

If you have ever spent a winter in New England you know the meaning of the word cold. Red nose, blue lips, cold! You begin to think that if you had gone down with the Titanic it would have been nothing more than a late-night dip with friends. It was such a night when my girlfriend Jacqueline and I went to a club in downtown Boston to see a concert. These were the days before kids, responsibilities, a fast sports car and when we--by anyone's standards--looked HOT! She with her next-to ...
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