Those, the Internet has taught us, are some of our “triggers” — for me, right alongside The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross, head massages and a whole Narnia of other untouched, weirdly humdrum happenings.

While my sister and I may share the same last name, same sense of humor and same freckled cheeks, our stories couldn’t be any more different.

 Although it’s a small step, the inexorable link between women’s rights and the use of the bicycle has forged a trajectory toward female independence throughout history, and seeing the cultural implications and results of female bicycle use in Saudi Arabia will be incredibly interesting — and perhaps mimic how bicycles affected the suffragist movement here at home.

“When somebody’s 15 or 16 years old, what do they want to be? They want to be older, and they want to be cool like the girl in college, and that’s part of the magic of what we do at PINK.”

On April 15, Cincinnatians focused their attention on a nearly 400-year-old city 800 miles from us because, in the grand scheme of things, that’s really not so far away. We watched, listened and talked about what happened to hundreds of people at the finish line of the world’s most famous marathon.

 A couple of months ago, I started seeing the words “Harlem Shake” out of the side of my eye at an increasing rate. Natural, mindless curiosity — which creates the “viralness” of a cyber phenom — would usually have me clicking to see what this thing — … song? … dance? … video? — was all about.

Think about all the things wind does to you: makes you cold, blocks your movement, messes up your hair, makes noise, etc.

There’s one reason I’d really like to have children someday and one reason I want to get my tubes tied the next chance I get, and they both happen to be the same thing. I don’t want to stop being a kid myself.

The neighbors I have now are no doubt the friendliest, most interesting and, well, neighborly street-mates I’ve ever encountered. So why do I sometimes find myself avoiding them, or any potential friends for that matter? The concept of neighborhood etiquette (and previously, dorm life) is totally lost on me.

If there’s one thing that Facebook is good for, it’s learning about stuff that’s happening on the Internet. My colleague Mike Breen recently posted a humorous comment along with a story he shared titled, “Mother Tried to Sell Her Kids on Facebook for $4,000.” Mike’s take: “What an idiot! That’s what Craigslist is for!”

 Most people who play poker know more terminology than applicable math, which you might be surprised to learn is essential to the game. But because anyone at the table can win any hand at any time, there’s a misleading allure to the contest. People who play badly sometimes beat people who play well.

When I think of prejudiced people, I envision ignorant, ultra-conservative, hateful people out of touch with modern reality. But fat-shaming comes from all types of people — including educated, progressive, alternative folks that one wouldn’t tend to pigeonhole as discriminatory.

I did truly love the man I thought I was marrying. I don’t, however, think I would have married him if I were raised differently. What I mean is: I’m a Christian.

The other day, you called me just to talk, and it scared the shit out of me. You sat down, somewhere quiet and alone, gambling a little bit of your evening hoping I’d pick up and gamble a little bit of mine on you, too.

It’s pretty widely accepted that creative types — the kind whose work is meant to disseminated — share a common trait: swollen, bulging egos that must constantly be nursed with attention, positive or otherwise. The writer writes, of course, because he likes the sound of his own voice. 

I remember riding to Corsi Tree Farm way out in Hamersville, Ohio, in those seats and stretching my short, stubby legs. Today, the ride to Corsi makes me claustrophobic. I can barely move; Dylan’s bony knees clank with mine. Damn Dad’s long-legged McCartney gene. Toys have been swapped out for smartphones, which keep us preoccupied on the long, coiling drive there.

One of the main things that holds our society together is trusting one another. We, as humans, rely on other humans to follow established rules and do their “jobs,” whether it’s a surgeon, a pilot, a cop or a politician (go ahead, giggle).

 Can women be funny? It’s a question so brain-numbingly idiotic that it’s best left ignored, but that’s difficult when multiple facets of the media — from pop culture bloggers to comedians on Twitter — recycle the “debate” over and over again.