For the women who grow wilder with every passing day.
We’re no longer young and naive. We’ve made most of the mistakes we’re going to make in our lives and we don’t care about the ones left to make. They won’t rattle our cage because we already gave up the cage.
Money no longer matters to us. We have what we need and we’ve built a life that doesn’t require us to depend on anyone but ourselves. We know we won’t let us down.
The ideas other people call crazy keep coming. They don’t understand. We buy trucks and RVs. We quit our jobs. We buy plane tickets to far off lands. …
How we’ve been able to become #1 in spreading the virus.
We’re winning so much, we’re tired of winning. We’ve wanted to be the best at being the worst at something for so long. We tried for years to suck the most at education but Alabama just will not concede the title.
This week, we finally got there. Not more participation trophies. No more second place. We won.
John's Hopkins University released information this week that Arizona now has the highest rate of Covid in the world. Not the country. The whole damn world.
If you’re wondering how that happens, I’ll tell you. Here’s the Reader’s Digest Condensed Version: We gave up. We don’t care. That’s it. …
I hate that my brain works this way, but it works well.
My boyfriend and I had our 90-day reviews last night. Not at work. With each other. It’s an odd and possibly rigid concept but I believe in it wholeheartedly.
Three months is a solid time to check-in and have a heart to heart about how you’re doing as a couple. Mind you, I introduced him to this philosophy on our second date. He got a whole schpiel. He was warned in advance.
Most of us take our jobs more seriously than we do our relationships. We get a new job, hit the ground running, and look to nail that first 90 days. We work hard to keep our job, which brings us money. …
Finding my shift in perspective in the middle of a cattle ranch.
My car wouldn’t have made it. It would have bottomed out. My friend Brandy and I had to practically idle her Subaru Impreza down the rocky dirt road leading to the gate of the ranch, flinching every time we heard a clang from underneath the car.
On our way in we passed a two-story house with deep porches on each level. What struck me was the two beds, neatly made, with wood-carved frames and headboards out on the upper porch. That’s where Doc sleeps. Every night, he told us.
Doc Clyne was kind enough to open his ranch he’s tended for decades to about a hundred of us to hear his son’s band, Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers, play music for us all weekend. …
And I don’t want to become one of those “back in my day” people.
My daughter started her first job this week. She’s working at a local car wash, checking people in, getting them into the wash bay, and selling month-long memberships. She’s excited and I’m a proud mama.
Last night, she was telling me how much her paycheck was going to be and I reminded her of the importance of saving half of it. This is what I did when I had my first job slinging popcorn at the movie theatre where my two best friends had gotten jobs, as well.
I told her that I gave half my paycheck to my mom for college costs. …
What is this “body positivity” people speak of and how do I get some?
Back in January, when we were still free to move about the country, I took a trip to Key West for a music festival. Traveling by air is a dicey proposition for me. Like a lot of people, the changes in altitude, cabinet pressure, and the two drinks it takes for me to not be a crazy person on a plane have side effects. Namely, I blow up like a tick. Good times.
I had a three-hour drive from the airport in Miami to Key West and once I got off the plane, it became apparent that there was no way on God’s green Earth that I was going to make that drive comfortably in the pants I was wearing. …
Because there’s a difference between needing fixing and being broken.
A little anxiety crept in on Sunday evening, our last night together. It was evening four of my visit to the man I’ve been dating for the last two months. I had no intention of ever doing a long-distance relationship again but here I am.
The anxiety was driven by my past and the fact that the last long-distance relationship I was in ended horribly after over a year of on-again, off-again turmoil. I couldn't endure again what I feared would happen next.
In that past relationship, there was a clear pattern. I would go for a visit, spend a wonderful weekend away feeling content and happy only for it to completely fall to pieces the minute I walked out the door. …
It’s not that I’m a horrible person. It’s that time is a commodity.
Last week, I nearly came unglued as I sat at a small gas station by my house for 15 minutes as I watched four cars sit empty at the gas pumps. No one inside them. No one pumping gas. No gas pumps actively engaged in the gas tanks. The cars just sat, while I seethed.
Their owners shopped for donuts, cigarettes, and lottery tickets inside the convenience store like they were strolling around a Saturday morning farmer’s market. All while I prayed to the gas station gods that I would make it to work on time.
This, however, is not my worst pet peeve. It is second only to one thing that will make me froth at the mouth — I cannot endure anyone who elongates their vowel sounds. …
Shying away from difficult topics won’t make them go away.
Chrissy Teigen lost her son. Meghan Markle had a miscarriage. Elliot Page is transgender. Jen Hatmaker got divorced. Each of these stories matters.
I have heard a lot of commentary from people, most likely ones that have never been in a situation like the aforementioned folks, saying that people don’t need to tell everyone these parts of their lives. I wholeheartedly disagree. We absolutely need to talk about hard things. Often.
Before I go on I want to make it clear, if you have never gone through what someone else has you have no right to pass judgment on them for how they handle grief or any struggle or obstacle in their life. …
I gave him my password and hoped for the best.
I started seeing the man I have decided to call my boyfriend at the beginning of October. He knows I call him this. He started it. He referred to me to the guy sitting next to him on a plane as “his girlfriend.” It’s not arbitrary. It’s cute because we’re old.
In the first couple of weeks of dating, we had all the normal conversations. Like almost all couples some of our first chats were about music, films, and TV shows. We had some overlap in our viewing habits but a lot of space to grow. He had never watched some of the shows I was very passionate about. …
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