My grandparents lived in Bethlehem, PA, which is probably the most Christmassy place I have ever been, and is also where I spent the majority of my Christmases as a kid. My Nana had a nativity set I especially admired, because it had probably three times the amount of animals of most nativity sets, and it did not discriminate as to topical suitability (“look for the skunk in the nativity set,” my dad would mention on the car ride up each year). I spent a lot of time looking at it.Continue reading “Nativity Set”
I don’t publish on this site very frequently — once a month if I’m really feeling myself. I have often wanted to post some random shorter stuff more frequently, but it doesn’t really seem to fit here anymore, now that I mostly use this site for longer pieces that take some time to put together. Also, I don’t want to alienate my existing readership (of like ten people) with a deluge of “content” that they probably don’t care about.Continue reading “If You Just Can’t Get Enough of Me”
I’ve gained weight in my 30s, which is fine and all, except that I haven’t figured out how to wear it yet. The biggest problem with being overweight as a woman is that it makes you look approachable and maternal. I am neither of those things and no one used to mistake me for them, but increasingly, I find myself extremely publicly accessible in a way I have never wanted to be. Continue reading “Intimidating Doughball”
I bought a house in the Texan suburbs. If you’re my age and you haven’t bought property yet, you likely think you can’t afford it. Well, let me tell you: you can’t. No one can. Buying a house is stupid. Continue reading “Adventures In Security”
I have a confession that’s a bit too long for Twitter: whenever I’m standing close to someone, no matter who they are or what the context is, I think about licking their face and how godawful socially the aftermath of that would be. It’s similar to how when you’re standing on a high place, you think about jumping off: that this very simple thing that would take two seconds and that you could easily do for no reason at all would ruin everything.
Back in January, I injured my calf muscle doing toe raises with a weight at Orange Theory. I thought it was just a really sore muscle so I kept exercising, and then I tore it running fast uphill on the treadmill. That time, I knew it was injured. There was a painful pop and I had to leave class and limp home. The GP said nothing was sticking out, so it would probably heal on its own (there’s really no reason to ever go to a GP), so I waited until it didn’t hurt anymore, and then went back to working out, at which point, it went back to hurting, and so on and so forth, until finally in April, after three weeks of inactivity seemed somehow to make it even worse, I caved and went to physical therapy.
I’ve been thinking for some time now that I’d post something about the election, but it really seems like we have all woken up in one of the less sophisticated interpretations of Wonderland, and I don’t think there’s anything I can say about it all that hasn’t been said better elsewhere. Continue reading “Status Update”
My little buddy is gone. She lived with me in four states, across three apartments and two houses and six rooms. I made her two salads a day for almost seven years, and I checked in with her every single time I went in or out of any one of my living rooms, and now I’m still checking in with her every time I come in or out, and I’m still talking to her without thinking about it, and I feel like these things are deep down in my muscle memory, and so I wonder how long it will be until I stop doing that.
She had a really wonderful life for a rabbit, and I said goodbye to her at the right time, and none of that makes me feel any better at all.
She was really sort of a pain in the ass most of the time, and I wish that she was still here.
I’ve been busy and I’ve also been thinking about being busy, and about jobs and women and parenting and families, and I think that all of the arguing boils down to the fact that, for ordinary people with ordinary energy levels, only the following configurations are possible:
But everyone must go over to Buzzfeed and read this letter that the woman who Brock Turner raped read to him in court. It’s very long and very depressing, and for many of us, it is a sunny summer weekend, and yet, you must read all of it, down to the last word, no exceptions. I’m insisting. Best go ahead and get it over with now!