Reminder: the questions posed in this occasional column are written by actual people. Dear Savy English Teacher Sister, Concerning the usage of Yea! and Yeah…Am I correct to write “Yea!!! It’s a GNO!!!” and “Yeah, I’ll meet you at 6 a.m. for a long run.” (The first as an expression of excitment, and the other Read More
Great Balls of Dog Hair, this blog is so much work. Really. Like right now, at 6:37 am on a Saturday morning, all I want to do is scroll through Facebook and read about how John Travolta is gay, and I’m stuck here with a blank screen trying to come up with something funny/poignant/revealing/life-altering to Read More
What? Oh, hi! I didn’t see you there waiting. I’ve been busy looking for ways to upend my life. Because that’s what I do when I’m nervous. I’ve got some Guillot in me – Guillot was my grandmother’s name – and thus am a direct descendent of the Nerveenas, a group of women like my Read More
REMINDER: The questions posed in this occasional column are written by actual people. Dear Savvy Sister, I feel marginalized and I think everyone kind of does no matter what … or maybe not if you have a serious personality disorder. Discussion: perfectionism, defeatism, and possible solutions : ) Sincerely, Average Josephine Dear Read More
“Do you publish all of your blogs?” asked a friend. “Or do you have some hidden away that I haven’t read?” Until yesterday, I posted everything. Then Hot Firefighter Husband and I had a…disagreement. So I have one sitting in the bag. This Embargoed Post was about SEX. It even included the terms fuckery, which Read More
My book club peeps wanted to read The Paris Wife by Paula McLain. I did not. But I don’t make waves because they graciously allowed me to join their group after my last book club experiment ended with me crying in a driveway. So I read The Paris Wife, and I loved it, which is Read More
When I was a child, I wanted to be a cowgirl. I really wanted to be like Roy Rogers, and I watched his show every day. I DID NOT want to be like Dale Evans. I dreamed of having a horse like Trigger and a dog like Bullet. Dale Evans’ horse’s name was Buttermilk. Blah. Read More
Hot Firefighter Husband gets a couple of drinks in him, and he turns into fucking Socrates. I was kvetching (AGAIN! I’M A TOTAL BUZZ KILL SOMETIMES!) about the State of the Familial State, an outline of which I have included: 1 – Money Issues a. rubbery checks, and subsequent apologies to the gymnastics coach b. Read More
I worry a lot about My Writing, and by worry, I mean whine incessantly to people I love. Like when Hot Firefighter Husband and I go out to dinner, and he says, “What do you want to talk about?,” I moan and gnash my teeth and say, “My Writing! My Writing!” Then I furrow my Read More
Lately I’ve been suffering from Blogger’s Block, but last night I dreamed I was Mary Ingalls getting ready to board a ship bound for a new land where us girls wouldn’t all have to sleep together, but the ship’s departure kept getting pushed back due to cholera outbreaks. In my dream, I thought, DUH! I Read More
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