At the end of 2017, like many of us, my body was not my own. After a whole month of Friendsgivings, work Thanksgiving, regular Thanksgiving, holiday happy hours, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Years Eve, and New Years Day, I was trapped inside a meat prison of my own making. You know the old anecdote about a parent who catches their teen with a cigarette, and makes them smoke a whole pack of cigarettes to learn their lesson? That was me, except I was both parent and teen, and the cigarettes were imported cheeses.
Finally, after 27.5 years on the planet, I had finally eaten enough cheese and carbs, and drank enough champagne, that I was ready to commit to at least 45 years of just lettuce and tap water. But since the “president” is going to blow the whole planet to smithereens WAY before then, I decided on a more realistic short-term goal: one month of semi-paleo “clean eating,” via the Whole30 program. “Gotta make a change! This is rock bottom!,” I said to myself, as Karma rubbed its hands together gleefully. Read More
Last year, almost to the day, I predicted that Christmas 2016 would be our last, because the “president”-elect would have blown up the entire earth by Christmas 2017. Well, folks, there’s a first time for everything, including my being wrong! (Don’t get excited– it will probably never happen again.) But since the void has not yet embraced us all in its eternal grasp, another holiday season is upon us. Grab a glass (or mug, or bowl, or funnel…) and get thee to the liquor cabinet! It’s been a busy year, and we’ve all earned a drink. Read More
Last week, I was in a minor car accident because Florida drivers, including myself, are sent straight from whatever circle of hell involves flaming bees in your anus. Thankfully everyone involved is totally fine, but my poor Hyundai will be in the shop for almost 3 weeks. So this week, I rented a car to transport myself to and from work.
And by “car”, I obviously mean “2017 Dodge Caravan”, because what else would happen to me at this point? I made my reservation online, for the “smallest and cheapest car” and showed up to retrieve it. Read More
Something awful is happening, and for once, I’m not talking about fashion trends or Republicans.
Starbucks has released a brand new “limited time” amalgamation of sprinkle-infested cream, corn syrup, and shame. They are calling it… the Unicorn Frappuccino® Blended Crème.
My body is no temple– I once drank so much turquoise offbrand Four Loko that I peed blue for two days– but SWEET MOTHER OF GOD, LOOK AT THAT THING. Am I the odd man out here? Are other people excited by the idea of drinking 16 oz of frozen, teal-and-fuschia-dyed heavy cream?
Happy Thursday! If you’re just waking up, you should know that in the middle of the night, our elected douchebags made the truly appalling choice to repeal the ACA and CHIP, leaving 30 million Americans (including children, which– hey, pro-lifers!– are just fetuses that got borned!) without health insurance.
On a shit day like this one, you might find yourself getting So Mad Online that you decide to interact with strangers on social media, like Twitter or the trending topics section of Facebook.
This is a Very Bad Idea! Do not do this!
Okay, so you did it, and it’s not fun, and actually it’s even more terrible than you imagined. But you’re in it to win it now, and your notifications are a goddamn disaster. Why not play a game of Bingo with those replies while you wait it out?
If you don’t win within five minutes, that’s your cue to go take a walk! Get some fresh air; remind yourself that you are loved and we will all find a way to survive this together.
HA! Just kidding. Reply to a Tormy Looren tweet, and feel your soul sink even deeper into its pit of depair.
This December, I’ve been experiencing some pretty serious holiday-related cognitive dissonance. Right now is “the most wonderful time of the year”, but also probably “the last Christmas ever before Dictator Dump blows up the entire planet over a Twitter fight.” 2016 was a goddamn hellscape, and there’s no promise that 2017 will be any better—in fact, it will likely be SO much worse!
So how can we be merry and bright this holiday season, considering all the horrors we’ll likely face in 2017? The answer, my friends, is alcohol. This Christmas, surprise your family by tossing that worn paper bag full of Evan Williams and whipping up a festive cocktail! Here are a few recipes to consider.
Do y’all remember how the right responded BOTH times that Obama was elected? With hatred. With anger. With battlecries of “he’s not MY president!!!”. Many of them were probably told “Oh hush, you’ll be fine.” And you know what? For 8 years, they WERE fine. They ARE fine. Angry conservative white men have never been more fine.
As a white woman, I will also be mostly “fine” during the next four years (unless Trump starts a nuclear war, or I’m drafted into the Official Mike Pence White Baby Factory and forced to give birth to children I don’t want because #Jesus.)
Unlike after Obama’s win, many people who are terrified today WILL NOT BE FINE. Racial and religious minorities. The LGBT community. Immigrants. Women, especially women who belong to the aforementioned groups. Last night, America told people in these groups (as our next Commander in Chief has said many times on the record) to go fuck themselves. Their (our) rights don’t matter anymore, and if this doesn’t horrify you, I can’t help you.
I’ve seen some posts on social media this morning saying “Hug a Trump voter today! They know not what they’ve done to themselves!” and to the people posting that, I genuinely ask: are you out of your fucking minds? Do not ask me to hug a person who is too goddamn stupid to realize that their selfishness has fucked over the entire country, including *gasp!* themselves. The horror!
I’ve also seen many posts in the past few months to the effect of “I won’t defriend anyone over politics! You’re entitled to your opinions!” While it’s nice that some people feel that way, I totally disagree. This is not “politics”- it is basic human decency. If you voted for Trump, you voted against the safety of people that I love, against my (and every woman’s) right to bodily autonomy, against a free fucking press in America. So please: if you voted for Trump and I missed you in my thorough Facebook deforestation, sashay the fuck over to the ol’ Book, locate the Unfriend button, and smash it hard. Be sure to unfriend me in real life as well. I plan on surviving, and doing my best to help others survive, the disastrous mess that we’re in for because of you. I’d rather do it without you.