Like a good colleague, I went to grab lunch with my coworkers today. (Ok, I really just needed a short of caffeine. Also I was promised cookies.)
After a particularly animated conversation, I dropped my arms to my sides. And experienced a searing shooting pain up my arm. I flailed and jumped – immediately noticing an angry yellow jacket fleeing the scene of the crime.
Bastard stung me! Clearly I am a superhero. (Those buggers are known to be multi-sting stingers.) Only an itchy angry red dot remains of my wound. The wasp was swatted.
Twelve years ago I ventured forth to England to study abroad at Durham University. I landed at Heathrow Airport only to discover my luggage was missing. As I skulked toward the student bus with a teacher trying to get me to see the positive because SHOPPING (and I tried to explain a student budget with personal space issues including not wanting to borrow another’s undies), my name boomed across the PA.
Well if this wasn’t the easiest edition to come up with. It’s the Fourth of July! Hang up your flag, fire up the grill and have a chill holiday celebrating the birth of our nation.
In true patriotic style, today’s winecones are thrown in true classic American style. Baseball, PB&J sandwiches, apple pie, red, white and blue Jello (with whipped cream) and hours spent in the pool to ward off 100-degree heat. (What – isn’t that how you do it?)
My parents also have an outdoor grill and firepit in their back yard. You may think this is a recipe for a tradition beer and burgers bash. But no. My family is different. Case in point: Continue reading →
Has anyone ever looked at you and said, “Just smile. If you smile, you’ll be happy. You can’t be sad with a smile.” This, of course, is bullshit. However, it’s always fun to find something that will genuinely make you smile.
There is truly something to be said for flying down the highway under the hot summer sun. Mustang convertible, top down, 85 degrees outside and Foo Fighters Everlong playing on the radio. It kind of feels like freedom and fun. Continue reading →
Hallmark demands you rush out and buy and ugly tie. Perhaps experiment with fingerpaint to stamp the hands and feet of your mini-me on a rectangular-ish pillow. Because what says I honor your male parenting abilities and celebrate fatherhood more than a cartoon character on a card vaguely insinuating sexual acts. (Although really, that is how you got into this situation in the first place. Just sayin’. And also, I found this rather unsettling as I searched for a card to send my own father – not my husband.)
Not a bad motto. I’d even venture to say all of us have experienced a burst of energy dedicated to doing just that at some point in time. A Twitter conversation later clarified that the motto should actually be, “Do Epic Shit. With More Coffee.”