Love and marriage don't always go together like a horse and carriage. Regardless of the romantic notions we have about marriage, what it boils down to is this: Marriage is a partnership, romantic and otherwise. And partnerships are business agreements too. Whether you do it for love, for money, for health insurance or because it’s arranged for you, we all know that marriage takes work. And we all know that it sucks when it's not working. Sometimes the work is worth it, and sometimes it’s not. You don’t know until you try, and for some people, trying isn't good enough.

Mexico City may soon make saying I don't as easy as saying I do. The city, in which half of all marriages fail, is thinking of enacting a renewable marriage contract so that couples who realize they just aren't into each other can get it over with clean and hassle-free. Kind of an opt-out option.

Have you ever heard of a yogasm? It may sound like the punchline to a joke, but having an orgasm in yoga class is apparently rather real and slowly becoming all the rage. In studios across New York and California, women are coming into class to bend, breathe, and strengthen their bodies and coming out of class, well, very satisfied.

It's not the goal of yoga, but it seems to be happening more and more, and it's not just women who benefit. Men can, too. On a physical and biological level, it makes sense. When a yoga teacher tells you to squeeze your pelvic muscles, or pull up from your root chakra, or whatever woo-woo words they use, you are, essentially, working your pelvic floor muscles, also known as doing Kegel exercises. 

Knowing this can help you and your partner feel tingly and sexier than you ever felt before. And that's good for when you're not in yoga class too, because honestly, it might be weird to have an orgasm in yoga class. 

For two months now I've been growing out my underarm hair. It was something I did once before, in my early-mid 20s, when I was a young feminist finding my way in the world. Back then I felt sexy, even if one girlfriend did beg me to shave my pits before her wedding day. Hairy pits were sensual, they were liberating, and they allowed me to feel like I didn't conform to the standard of hairless beauty that many of my girlfriends did. 

Still, I shaved for her wedding and then I decided to keep my pits clean for a while. I even tried laser but ouch. 

So when I stopped shaving for eight days while at the Burning Man festival, it got me thinking about what it would be like to not shave now, over a decade after my last bout with hairy righteousness. Would men be more turned on, or turned off, by my hairy underarms?