Irrational Hates:


Fruit on the bottom yogurt.


I always manage to slop half the container on my pants
in a futile attempt to blend my yogurt effectively.
Mix that shit, Chobani.
I know you have it in you.


Long, Long, Long Island:

I may or may not have had a Long Island Iced Tea
with Elderflower Liquere…Liquor?…Lickker?

in it.

It was really good.

…I can’t feel my knees.


Wordpress suggests "The Mona Lisa" as the text for this image. I'll go with that.

Also, corgi:


Good girl, distract everyone from Mommy's Tikki Bar hair.

Bright Moments with Becca:


“Hey, Self.”
“Hey, Self. Whatup?”

“Nice shoes.”

Why, yes, I probably *am* flashing the boulevard.


“But is wearing 5-inch stiletto heel Vince Camutos such a grand idea after you and Roommate got all down with the leg-pressing at the gym last night? I mean, that staircase at work is kinda steep.”

“Shut up.”


I need to paint.



(and I hatehatehate applying to jobs.)





My Day So Far:

It is 11:30 in the morning.

Becca has not gone to sleep yet,
on account of the fact that she,
once again,
had an AWESOMERAD idea for Halloween decor
that HAD to be executed in neverasmuchtimeassheneeds.

I have cleaned up two passive-agressive shits from DammitDog,
one “I didn’t want to poop outside, so I’magonna poop in the corner instead” from The Corgi,
fifty gazillion seeds from maple pods in my hair, down my bra, in my shorts,
two hot glue burns (tho’ not even close to the Emissary of Satan Burn),
tuned out the rantings of one creepy neighbor,
and have watched two movies.

I have not started on my costume yet,
and my party is tonight.

Next year?

I start working on Halloween decor in AUGUST.

And bright ideas that come around in the beginning of October?

I’ll write you down and tuck you away for NEXT YEAR.

ps (yes, pictures are forthcoming of the Project that Would Not Sleep)

Is That a Complete Sentence?

I’m sitting in BeanTown,
since I desperately needed to get out of the house today,
and I have a lovely trio ensconsced behind me:

Worried, tech-inept Mother.

Cadaverously boring, condescending Educator.

Annoyed, bored, cannot-believe-the-level-of-the-shit-she-does-not-give Teen.

Mom and EDUCATOR are making Charlie Brown noises
about tests and grades and why Teen should care about grades and tests.

Annoyed Teen is annoyed.

Because really?

Learning is interesting.
Learning is wild and crazy and adventurous.

And these two are making it all about percentiles.


For heaven’s sake,
get your kid outside,
and let her roam around.

Encourage her to write about beautiful things.
Read her poetry.
Let her loose in the library to explore books.
Math? Connect it with wonder–the golden ratio,
how it’s found in art throughout the centuries.
Get her in museums.
Connect chemistry to baking, perhaps.
Let her make a mess in order to learn; work with her hands.
Learn with your kid, Worried Mom.
Explore the world with her.

She won’t give a shit unless *you* do.

And I don’t blame her,
especially when you say things like,
“Well, the next time you see ________, she’ll be smarter.”



You just told your daughter that she’s stupid.
In public.
Do you realize that she might not ever get over that?


Poor kid.

Poor Worried Mom.

I hope wonder finds you,
in spite of today.


Things I’ve Learned:

1) The puppy will not go in her kennel willingly.
She will think leaping out of the zippered flap is a game.
This ceases to be funny after the 15th time.

2) If puppy goes out at 1am to pee, she will sleep until 6am.
Woe to you, unbeliever, if you fail to get her out at that hour!

3) Puppy sleeps in corners. This morning, it was the corner under my nightstand.
Good thing, too–her fluffy little body doubles as a duster.

4) The threat of fleas will make your scalp and skin itchitchitch,
even though the fleas are but a figment of your imagination,
thank you, Nuclear-Winter-for-Fleas-Spray.

5) The Boyo–who has had Dogs, but never his very own Puppy–
will be as nervous as a new Dad about whether or not Puppy loves him.
It’s adorable.

6) There are few things in the world cuter than this critter when she’s sleeping:


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