Archive | August, 2011

Things You Should Know About Me

28 Aug

For most of my childhood I fervently believed that I had been abducted by aliens at least once, because I was always waking up with my pajamas on backwards or other weird shit. Then when I got older, I heard about night terrors and I was all, ohhhhhhhhh I see.

Once, I managed to wedge myself between my sister’s twin bed and the wall. Then I woke up and lost my shit, and my Dad had to come get me out.

Conversations with My Little Sister

26 Aug

Snapped this pic of the sales chart at job 2.0:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and sent it to my little sister, naturally.

 

Me: For real?

Little Sister: Oh god!

Me: Does it strike you as a bit…anti-semitic?

Little Sister: GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

 

Apologies to Jewly.  It isn’t your fault, I know.

Whitest Thing I Have Said This Week

25 Aug

Even though it’s only Thursday, I am going to go ahead and call it: My art director is in London this week.

So white. So very white.

Just So You Know

24 Aug

If you feel the need to verbalize to me that you love women, I will instead hear this:

I hate women and want to punish them for my mother’s sins.

Every single time.

There’s Nothing You Can Do For Me I Can’t Do For Myself

22 Aug

My father is a man in the most traditional, Western sense of the word. He loves red meat, can grow a beard on command, and once killed a chipmunk by stomping on it. With bare feet. And in case you couldn’t tell, I adore this man more than anyone that has ever been born or will be born. But? I didn’t marry a man like him. My ex-husband was gentle at times, weak in others, and largely petulant. The only thing he had in common with my father was a love of black pepper.

As a single woman who hopes to have children, if not marry again, I find myself in a mortifying situation. I am an educated, empowered woman. I live alone, take out my own trash, check the oil in my car—all of it. And all I want is a man who can build a fence and grow a beard. This is a desire, not a necessity.  But what I itch for is a strong, traditional male presence in my life. I have to reconcile this with the choices I have made and the belief systems I call my own. Faced with a generation of men raised by women (thanks for that, Tyler Durden), I am bored and exasperated. I don’t know if this makes me a shitty feminist or a shitty person. How can I take a man seriously when he grows ironic facial hair and can’t make a dentist appointment for himself? What is that even called?

I am surprised to find myself with such gender normative preferences, especially at this point in my life. I’m also a little disappointed in myself. Isn’t gender a fluid construct? Shouldn’t I be comfortable making the decisions and building the fences on my own? I don’t know. But right now, I’d rather build the fence alone than have to show someone how to do it.

You Deserve An Edible Arrangement

20 Aug

Today was hard, but not as hard as last year. Here’s to evolution.

Just So You Know

17 Aug

I am going to tear this pageant down. Already I’ve made a grown man cry and signed a few autographs. Back on Sunday, kids.