I was one of many boarding school kids that assumed I was there because my parents didn’t want to raise me.
The actual truth may not be that harsh, but nevertheless, the school took their role of overbearing parent seriously. They made every effort to remove all ways for us teenagers to express ourselves. No blue hair, no jewelry, not even fun socks with patterns were allowed.
Still, we managed to find the one circumstance they had a hard time enforcing a uniform, and that was church. …
If you’ve ever indulged in an extra decadent piece of cheesecake, then you understand that some moments are almost as good as sex. Such strong feelings can leave you moaning out loud in the Cheesecake Factory, while the mom in the next booth over covers her child’s ears.
Don’t worry, you’re not the only one.
In this new world of navigating Tinder hookups without contracting a supervirus, consider settling for safer options.
Here are some things that are almost as good, and much less awkward than banging with a mask on.
A back massage that lasts longer than 4 minutes before the reach-around. …
Businesses are struggling to open their doors after Covid-19 restrictions ease because their employees aren’t ready to come back to work. People want to stay home and collect unemployment.
Up until the end of July, when the extra $600 a week ended, many Americans were making more money sitting at home and crocheting than they previously were standing on their feet for 8+ hours a day.
I was one of those people.
Are we the reason the republicans briefly tried to reject the CARES act? Did they give us too much money? …
“This is never going to work,” I thought when I learned he didn’t have a passport. How would we walk hand in hand through white-washed villages in Greece?
We clearly had different priorities if he hadn’t put in the effort to see the world before now. Still, I really liked him, and badly wanted him to get bitten by the travel bug so we could live happily ever after.
For Christmas, I gave him a handsome passport-holder enclosed with a post-it note indicating his appointment time to get his first passport.
There was also a sassy sidebar that explained how I refused to date anyone without a passport. …
Two houses and one whole apartment complex down the street, I can still hear them. The high pitched WOOOO’s break my concentration, although I feel like I should be used to it and able to tune it out by now.
I melodramatically roll my eyes because that’s all I can do.
Working from home in a global pandemic is hard when people are still determined to have fun. How dare they! How am I supposed to organize my soap collection with all this ruckus going on?
“A woo girl is the type of young woman who, like the cuckoobird or the whip-poor-will, gets her name from the signature sound she makes. A woo can be elicited in many different ways: from a certain song coming on the jukebox, to half-priced shots, or well, pretty much anything.” …
Surprise! Your ‘faults’ can be a good thing.
You are most likely one of two types of people.
Or maybe both of these sound familiar.
Either way, we all tend to blame human kind for the bad things in the world, whether it be the fault of others or ourselves, and it’s most likely because whatever shortcoming they possess is messing it all up.
If Karen would just stop being a know-it-all then we could actually get something done in meetings. …
You might be familiar with Gary Chapman’s Five Love Languages — a theory that lasting love stems from doing the things that make your partner feel loved.
The different (less fun) ones that people identify with are:
This is great n’ all, but they left mine out.
Pranks are my love language.
I mean, not exactly, because I don’t need them reciprocated to feel appreciated (although all-out prank wars ARE fun). Rather, they are how I show my love.
My roommate and dearest friend Dana loves caramel apples. …
My dear friend Beth is going through a painful divorce. Her husband of over a decade has done and said some very painful things. One of the ways he controls her is by attempting to isolate her from her support systems, which includes me.
Luckily, she’s too smart to let him control her to that degree and still fills me in on all the details.
Those details include why he “doesn’t like” every single person in her life and why she shouldn’t either.
I’m not offended by mine — it’s quite comical. He doesn’t like me because I’m vegan.
For him to express his disdain for someone who has been in his wife’s life for longer than he has, one would think it would be for a decent reason. …
Like many of you, I hesitate to say that I’m a writer when someone asks me what I do.
“Only a small chunk of my income is from writing, so I can’t possibly deserve to claim the title.”
I’m also tired of answering the same ole’ questions. I’m tired of finding responses to inquiries of what I write about when I write about everything. Hell, sometimes I don’t even know what I write about.
It annoys me when people ask how I could possibly make money off of being creative. …
I always hesitate to say it. I was raised in a cult.
I’m aware that other’s situations were much worse than my own and I don’t want to discredit their experiences.
It wasn’t Westboro baptist, so does it count?
Or perhaps it’s because something inside of me is afraid to admit it really was a cult.
More likely, this fear is one of many things that have stuck with me through the decades.
I’m constantly afraid that my parents will somehow run into this rant and have to suffer the social consequences of having a non-church going daughter.
What if they’re reading this right now? …