Hello my sisters in snark, my colleagues in curtness, my friends who are frank and my associates in assertiveness: Today we salute you.You, who so boldly and decisively refuse to stand for bullshit. You, who do not cower; you who do not yield. You who most likely suffer from moderate to severe resting bitch face.Like you, I have been told at times that I have a bad attitude problem....more
We're all so clever these days. We're so good at policing the thoughts and feelings of everyone we see. We call it snark, or "calling someone on their sh*t", but at the core of it all is this sick desire to correct those we disagree with. And I'm one of the worst offenders....more
First, have a lesson in Birth Control For Idiots. I found this on Tumblr and it is a very good explanation of the various methods of birth control, including hormonal birth control. After the flack and aftermath of Limbaugh’s saying that a woman who was explaining that a friend of hers was not able to get insurance coverage for hormonal birth control pills ended up getting an ovary removed due to a cyst was a slut....more
I attended my first ever BlogHer conference two years ago, and I was honored to speak on a panel there. I can only hope that someone who may have needed to hear what I had to say managed to find some comfort, some benefit.
It was one of the best weekends of my life, on so many levels.
Also? First time ever in San Francisco!
A companion guide to Lost In Translation.
What I said: "It's great that you're so...passionate...about that."
What I meant: "Seriously you just rambled and raved like a drunken sailor coming off a 21 day binge."
What I said: "Nice!"
What I meant: "I have no idea what you said, I tuned you out 10 minutes ago because I was I was about to pass out from sheer boredom."
What I said: "That sucks for you!"
What I meant: "Sucks to be you. Heh."
We've all seen 'em and munched 'em -- those Valentine's Day candy conversation hearts that beg, "Let's Kiss," "Marry Me," "Hug Me," or simply say "Love You." (More modern versions say, "Email me.") These were cute when we were in fourth grade and stuffing tiny cards into shoeboxes glued with red construction paper, but things are different now.
There's a quilt that hangs on the wall behind my 16 month old's crib. My mom made it for her and had the guests at my baby shower sign little messages and greetings to her which were very special. Sprite has been looking at that quilt since her eyes could focus. If there was anything in her room I would rescue in a fire (Sprite already being out of the house of course), I would make a bee line for that quilt.
I have never been a joiner.
I skipped prenatal classes because I just knew I would end up being the snarky one in the back rolling my eyes instead of practicing my breathing and making wisecracks no one else found funny.
I can’t help it. I get really irritable when confronted by group mentality. Then I get sarcastic. Then people start to think I’m an asshole. And they’re usually right.
So even though everyone told me I should join a mom’s group after Graham was born, I was really reluctant. It just seemed cliché and kinda lame.
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