You Are Loved, Little One

I was just at the baby shower two weeks ago. I still have the Amazon tab open confirming my order of newborn diapers and a hooded bath towel.

When something unspeakably tragic happens to someone who doesn't deserve it - and there are some things no one deserves - there are no words to make it better.

When two lovely, kind, truly good people who are eager to be parents get to spend just four days with their precious baby, what do you do? What do you say? What do you feel? For me, the answer to the last question is "a lot."

Despair. Anger. Heartache. Disbelief. Helplessness. Hopelessness. Somehow guilt snuck its way in there too.

Why did this happen? How could this happen?

I am not a religious person. I don't even know if I believe in God (but I'll capitalize it just in case). If you believe that everything happens for a reason, that's your faith and that's fine. But if you tell me that a car accident that causes the loss of a premature newborn is part of G…

Thirty Years of Valentines, Thirty Types of Love

Okay, maybe not thirty. But at least six.

For me, Valentine's Day has never really been about romance. At each stage of my life it has been about a different kind of love and a different kind of lesson.

Right in the Childhood: Treasure Hunts  When my brother Brady and I were kids, Valentine's Day was one of my favorite holidays because my mom would send us on a treasure hunt around the house. After handing us the first clue, it was up to us to figure out where the next clue was. Each rhyming clue would send us to the next location until finally we reached the treasure - usually a basket with candy and stuffed animals. Maybe some heart-shaped sunglasses. 

Childhood Valentine's Day was all about family love, with Brady and I giggling and racing and shoving each other out of the way to find the next clue. And adding one more notch to my lifelong love affair with words and wit.

Elementary School: BFFs and Social Landmines  While the merits of this practice has been hotly debat…

Blizzard Blogging

Whoops I only published one post in 2015. Since I'm home alone with my cat, here is my stream-of-consciousness during #Blizzard2016 (hashtagging on blogs is cool and useless).

So far this is Blizzard 2016:

Earlier I wished I was snowed in with someone but then I started posting wine selfies every hour on Facebook and got some laughs while probably also ruining my career. Also I haven't worn a bra for almost 48 hours and can fart whenever I want so basically I won the blizzard.

Added more whipped cream vodka to my Nutella hot chocolate. Can you microwave a drink with alcohol in it? Let's find out.

Well, nothing exploded so I guess you can. Unless I die later. I mean, like, sooner-later. I will die later, but hopefully like many-years-kinda-later.

I just showed Jack a video with meowing cats. He had no reaction. Goddammit, Jack.

There are so many pictures of snow and alcohol and pets and selfies on Facebook this weekend, yet I still think posting mine is somehow interesting.…

I'm tired and I'm angry and I want things.

I'm tired today. Tired of being strong, tired of taking care of myself, tired of being smart and independent and lonely. I'm tired of keeping it in and being quiet when I'd rather scream. I don't want to be by myself and I don't want to go on any more stupid, boring dates where I'd rather be home with the cat. 
And I'm angry. Angry at the happy couples holding hands and angry at the people who jump from one relationship to the next when I've been single for 7 fucking years. Angry at myself at messing up the what-could-have-beens and angry that everyone seems to have what I don't. What I seem to be incapable of getting. Surely I can't be the only one who can't find and/or sustain love? I'm pretty. I'm smart. I'm funny. And I'm picky. 
I want things. I want a partner. I want children. Do I NEED them? Well, that depends on your definition of need. Do I need them to validate myself as a person? No. But I need them in the sense t…

I scared away my date with my poop.

Did you know girls poop?

Apparently my most recent date didn't.

Third date with a new guy. In my opinion, it wasn't really long-term potential, because this guy didn't want kids (I do) and didn't particularly like pets (you may know about my love of cats).

But, he and I had good conversation, and what I thought was decent chemistry, so I thought I would just have some fun in the short term. On our first two dates, we went out to dinner, and at the end of the second date, he came to my place for a brief, fun make-out session.

Third date was tonight. He came over to my place again. We talked for a little while. At one point he said something that kind of annoyed me, and then attempted to kiss me, so I was a bit lean-away-and-face-forward-ish. He got the hint and we started talking again, in a fun way. We were both laughing and having a good time. I was planning to start kissing him again soon.

First, though, I need to take care of something. My stomach was not happy.


Why Jobs and Relationships are the Same Thing

I'm in an abusive relationship with my job.

It treats me terribly, and I know it, but until recently I haven't had the guts to work toward leaving it. I've made all the excuses that one tells oneself in an abusive human relationship.

It doesn't mean to hurt me; it's just stressed out. When a company is in financial trouble, as mine has been, those in charge start to take desperate measures to work their way out of the hole. The casualties, of course, are overworked, underpaid employees. The implication is that if we just work a little harder, a little longer, we can dig our way out. The whispered threat being that if the company doesn't start to improve, it's kind of our own fault.

Well, the job does have some good qualities. I love my boss and my coworkers. I enjoy the work I do. Really. So what if I haven't had a raise in 5 years, there's no room for growth, the upper management seems neither to respect nor even notice the work we do, and the comp…

What Not to Write: A Perfect Specimen

I've posted before about online dating don'ts for men. I do it mostly in good fun, as I make no claim to be perfect or have a perfect profile. Everyone makes errors in judgment occasionally. Some are more egregious than others. Posting pictures that involve a lineup of people when I don't know who you are? Merits an eye roll, nothing more. Averaging 3 spelling mistakes per sentence? Deep, profound sigh.

But occasionally, a profile is so wrong, so off the mark, and so blazingly unaware that my first reaction is to burst out laughing. And then use it as the ultimate example of what not to write.

OkCupid Specimen: What Not to Write 
I would like you to use just one comma. Is that so much to ask for?

Apparently, yes.

Oh lordy, where to begin? Oh right, commas. And apostrophes. Where to continue?

Let's go with insulting the reader. The reader, presumably, is a woman on OkCupid. According to you, this means she is one of several things: drunk, crazy, a whore, a little girl, …