This is a quick heads-up that I will cease to care about anything or anyone else on the planet this Friday except for the four-part revival of “Gilmore Girls” on Netflix. Here are just a few things the existence of which I will forget about for six full hours:
- Energy bills
- My failed high-protein diet(s)
- Nuclear proliferation
- My unkempt eyebrows
- Donald Trump
- Neo-nazis (see above)
- Deep dish pizza vs. regular pizza
- Daylight Savings Time
- Space-time continuum
- Stephen Hawking
- Zucchini noodles aka “zoodles”
- Ill-fitting jeans
- Red states
- Blue states
- Purple states
- The oceans (all)
- The continents (all)
- Also lakes
- 1066 (I know stuff happened but I forget most of it anyways blah blah England)
- Most of History
- GenC (?)
- Whatever generation I am
- Non-fat Greek yogurt
- Your racist uncle
- Birth control methods (all)
- Indiana (included in above “red states” but I want to forget it twice)
- The New York Times
- Fake news
- Real news
- Sort-of-real-maybe news, but it was retweeted by Joss Whedon so who knows?
- Carrier pigeons
- All birds, really
- Whether or not there is a God(s)
- Whether my direct deposit for work will kick in soon
- The fact that we are all, as Dickens said, fellow passengers to the grave
Why? Because after this year, I deserve this ONE THING, OKAY? WE ALL DO! JUST THIS ONE THING! SIX HOURS! FOUR NINETY-MINUTE EPISODES! PLEASE JUST LET US HAVE THIS, UNIVERSE!
I’M BAAAAACK! MISS ME, BITCHES?
It’s been a nutty couple of months. I’ve been doing job searching while also finishing a draft of a Young Adult novel (aka YA for the uninitiated). It may or may not ever see the light of day (aka the shelves of a bookstore), but I’m pretty proud of having finished it. So proud, in fact, that I thought I’d share the wisdom I gained throughout the writing process for all my 17 blog readers. YOU’RE WELCOME.
Step 1: Come up with an original, never-before-imagined idea for your book. HAHAHAHAHA LOL J/K THERE’S NOTHING NEW UNDER THE DYSTOPIAN CHILD-KILLING-GAMES-MY BOYFRIEND-IS-A-VAMPIRE SUN; pick your poison, put your twist on it, and move on.
Step 2: Draft a detailed outline of your book, including key plot developments, character introductions, and emotional arcs. This one is easy: open a word doc and begin with Chapter 1. Then, halfway through outlining Chapter 1, give up and just begin to wing it because who has time for this shit?
Step 3: Write about 5,000 words of your book and feel pretty good about it. You know what? This isn’t half-bad! Teens would like this, right? RIGHT?
Step 4: Re-read your first 5,000 words and realize they are TERRIBLE. Oh my God, my dog could have written this. Why am I even trying? WHY AM I EVEN ALIVE?
Step 5: Cry
Step 6: Remember the E.L. James is a published author of poorly-written plagiarized fan-fiction and get your shit together. YOU CAN DO THIS, YOU WILL DO THIS!
Step 7: Get to 25,000 words and feel pretty good about it. You like your protagonist, and you hate your villain. There’s real conflict here, and some humor. You’re a good writer, you really are!
Step 8: Re-read the 25,000 words and remember that you are the worst writer to ever walk the Earth and also a terrible human being. OH GOD WHY DID I DO THIS? I’m a worthless hack. I’m going to go eat everything now.
Step 9: Cry while curled up into a ball on your bed and devouring a bag of pretzel twists dipped in an ENTIRE TUB of cream cheese while re-watching Star Trek: Voyager on Netflix. To be fair, this is my coping mechanism for all my setbacks in life, not just writing-related fails.
Step 10: Remember that if she could see you now, Captain Janeway* would tell you buck the fuck up, guzzle some black coffee, and get back to work, Ensign! I’m sorry, Kathryn, I was weak. I WILL KEEP WRITING RIGHT AFTER I STOP THAT WARP CORE BREACH AND PREVENT THE BORG FROM ASSIMILATING THE SHIP, CAPTAIN!
Step 11: Read a really good book by an excellent author and come to peace with the fact that you will never be that good but at least you can write grammar real good; and know how to do punctuation and stuff and things.
Step 12: Damn it.
Step 13: Finish your draft! Wow, what an accomplishment! Even if no one reads this, you’ve written a fucking book–how many people can say that?
Step 14: Go on Twitter and realize everyone and their mother has written a YA book just like yours. Fuck.
Step 15: Edit your manuscript which primarily deals with the lives of teens and realize that you have no idea about the lives of teens. I think I made a reference to desktop computers in there…do kids even use computers these days? Or do they operate their smartphones via chips embedded in their brains that allow them to send Snapchats with the firing of a single neuron? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND OUT ABOUT THIS? I guess I could ask an actual teen, but…ew, amirite?
Step 16: Shake your fist at the sky and curse the day that the first members of Generation C were born. Little bastards expecting their lives to be accurately depicted in literature–don’t they know that you are OLD AF RN?
Step 17: Remember that Generation C will soon supplant your Millennial Generation as the most hated of all time. Steeple your fingers while laughing maniacally at their forthcoming generational pain. NOW GO BUY MY BOOK, KIDDOS!
*I apologize for the obligatory Star Trek reference as I know certain people (ahem, L**) think all I do is talk about “Star Trek, Star Trek, Star Trek,” but I’ve basically just embraced being a ridiculous obsessed nerd so…yeah, get over it.
**J/K, L, you know I love you.
Happy Sunday! The other night, I decided to watch Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice On Demand, because I am a sad person who had nothing better to do and did not learn my lesson after seeing “Man of Steel” in theaters a couple years ago. Hey, at least I only spent 5 bucks on B v. S, as opposed to the FIFTEEN DOLLARS I gave Zack Synder for MOS. As I watched this nearly THREE-HOUR
collection of random speeches and fight scenes with the occasional Ben Affleck nightmare thrown in movie, I opened a WordPress draft and jotted down my thoughts. Also, this is a huge DUH, but…
SPOILER ALERT: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN B V. S AND ACTUALLY WANT TO SEE IT AT SOME POINT!!!!!
JACKIE LIVE BLOGS BATMAN VS. SUPERMAN MONTHS AFTER EVERYONE ELSE SAW IT BECAUSE REASONS, featuring:
Evil Mark Zuckerberg, aka Lex Luthor, aka EMZ for short
Ben Affleck’s chin butt
Henry Cavill’s chin butt
Amy Adams getting paid millions of dollars
Wonder Woman, who is The Best (TM)
A gross Zod-monster
Poor grammar and punctuation
It’s starting! I wish I had wine.
So we’re seeing Batman’s origin story again. Sure, ok, cool, haven’t seen that thirty times in a million other movies, fine.
Batman’s dad has a mustache, that’s new!
Jeremy Irons is in this movie? Oooh, Hans Zimmer does the score? Love it.
Who knew Batman’s mom was named Martha TOO?? I WONDER IF THAT WILL BE A PLOT POINT?
Um WHAT IS THIS BATS CANNOT MAKE KIDS FLY UNREALISTIC I CALL SHENANIGANS
OH it’s a dream, nm then. Ugh dreams.
You needed BRUCE WAYNE TO TELL YOU TO GET OUT OF THE BUILDING DURING A MASSIVE ALIEN ATTACK? COME ON NOW.
Flashback Bruce looks as dismayed watching Zod/Superman destroy Metropolis as I felt watching “Man of Steel.”
Oh good, this moron is praying now. Whatever, why didn’t HE GET OUT OF THE BUILDING? Stupid Jack, whoever Jack is.
So this is batman’s 9/11 okay fine
So I also hated man of steel, Bruce, but to be fair this is all zod’s fault as I recall so don’t look so salty.
When does Mark Zuckerberg show up?
Now we’re going on a world tour, okay
Oh god, amy adams, i forgot how much I hated her in this role and I usually love her, for real.
SHIT DID JIMMY OLSEN JUST GET MURDERED AND IS ALSO IN THE CIA? Or is that a random photo guy? Jimmy Olsen is a girl now, right? #feminism
LOL THAT WARLORD TOOK A GUN TO A SUPERMAN FIGHT
I feel like that whole african village genocide disaster would have been avoided if clark had just gone with her to the village in the first place.
Lol YOU DON’T CARE THAT YOU GOT A WHOLE VILLAGE MURDERED CLARK? Okay, sure, you’re a big hero, whatevs.
Of course in this scene Lois has to be naked in a bathtub.
I miss when Henry Cavill was on the Tudors, and when the Tudors was airing. That was pretty much the last time I watched Showtime.
Yay Batman doing a number on these human traffickers!
Jeremy Irons just makes me miss Michael Caine. He’s trying to give the doomsday speech from TDK but nothing beats “Some men just want to watch the world burn” in Caine’s nearly incomprehensible cockney.
Okay Henry Cavill with no shirt okay i see where you’re going with this zack snyder I’m on board.
Here’s mark zuckerberg and he’s really going all in on his Evil Mark Zuckerberg (EMZ) impression!
PEOPLE ARE DOING THINGS AT THE OFFICES OF FACEBOOK THAT YOU CAN’T EVEN UNDERSTAND, SENATOR SOUTHERNER!
Oh it’s Morpheus, hi! Bet you wish you took the other pill now, huh?
This seems like an unrealistic way to create news headlines and write a newspaper, how is the Daily Planet not out of business.
This movie is really choppy.
Oh, good, give Evil Mark Zuckerberg and his hair and hipster shirts access to the secret alien ship and Zod’s corpse, GOOD JOB GOVERNMENT.
Why is Bruce Wayne at Fight Club? Oh, right, the White Portuguese Russian or whatever
Oooh Clark is SUCH A BAT HATER
Every time Evil Mark Zuckerberg is onscreen I laugh. I don’t think it’s Jesse Eisenberg’s fault; Zack Snyder can’t direct or write or edit for shit, we knew this.
EWWWW BLEEDING GRAVES DREAM EEWWWWWW
Lol Alfred is your cranky mom who’s like WHEN YOU GONNA HAVE KIDS YOU AIN’T GETTIN’ ANY YOUNGER BRUCIE BOY!
Seriously, Clark, you don’t know who bruce wayne is? go back to smallville you moron.
YASS WONDER WOMAN. Lex Luthor sure invites a lot of superheroes to his soirees.
Wonder Woman is even less impressed with EMZ than I am.
Worst superhero pissing contest ever–I THINK YOU’RE DUMB NO I THINK YOU’RE DUMB!
Lol EMZ wants to “partner with” Bruce YEAAAHHH HE DOES.
Wow, bruce wayne is really bad at spying.
I do not care that Superman saved this girl or anyone.
I am bored by this superman saving people montage, Neil DeGrasse Tyson cameo notwithstanding
Gal Gadot’s wardrobe is amazing, and so far she is the best thing in this movie.
Okay I am confused as to how we got to this weird desert-place fight. Is this real? Is this a flashback?
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WHO IS THAT GUY IN BATMAN’S VISION/DREAM WHAT IS HAPPENING?
This movie is really just all over the place for no reason. I feel like the plot and various flashbacks/dreams could have been shortened and simplified and been much more powerful. And I know it’s not Marvel, but would it kill anyone to make a joke (on purpose) occasionally?
Okay I paused Comcast and made a salad with avocado. Yum!
I’m back. Ooh, obligatory batmobile vs. foreign black market criminals car chase w/rocket launchers and explosions.
Oh shit clark showed up and batman took a batmobile to a superman fight.
Okay for real superman is being very judge-y here. So batman put away one human trafficker who got killed in prison, fine, but superman should know after fighting Zod that there is sometimes collateral damage, including my soul after watching Man of Steel. He can lay off.
Shocker, Evil Mark Zuckerberg set up superman and batman and everyone!
lol soledad o’brien cameo!
Now we are moving into the extremely exciting CSPAN portion of the film.
Okay, so CSPAN was more exciting than I thought with ex-Wayne employee suicide bombing.
I am unmoved by this dramatic scene btw lois and clark at this time.
Bat workout/bat gadget building montage ftw! And while I prefer shirtless Henry Cavill, I ain’t mad at shirtless Ben Affleck either.
Shocker, Lex Luthor is spying on Wonder Woman, who is immortal and also KNOWS CAPTAIN KIRK Y’ALL! Now that is a movie I am excited for.
Unclear what Luthor is doing in the pond in the krypton ship other than generally trying to TAKE OVER THE WORLD, IT’S WHAT WE DO EVERY NIGHT, PINKY.
Oh, god, not clark kent hiking again and now field of dreams is happening at what i assume is the fortress of solitude.
And now a short and boring history of the Wayne family.
if they kill superman’s mom i’m gonna be real mad.
Gee, I wonder if they’re gonna capture lois lane, too! This bitch always getting captured.
If I were Lois I would jump myself off that building just so I wouldn’t have to listen to Evil Mark Zuckerberg anymore.
How much longer is this movie?
SHUT UP EVIL MARK ZUCKERBERG YOU ARE A MEDIOCRE MONOLOGUIST–IS THAT A WORD?–AT BEST.
I just checked and there is a FULL HOUR left in this movie.
Superman looks real constipated as he flies around.
Please, let Wonder Woman get involved so she can help move this along and wrap it up. Bitches get shit done.
Ooh, now we meet the rest of the Justice League, this is cool! Love that Khal Drogo is in the Justice League.
I want Barry White’s expense account. GET LOIS A CHOPPER! GET TO THA CHOPPA!
BRUCE AND CLARK ARE FACE TO FACE MAKE OUT DO IT DO IT!
Aww, no making out, I am disappoint.
Oh no Kryptonite gas and kryptonite armor oh nooooeees.
It is unclear when the kryptonite affects superman vs. not; he seems to recover randomly throughout the fight.
This is a fairly boring fight, like zero suspense as we know they eventually kiss and make up.
Um really? Batman is a murderer now, he gonna kill Clark? I don’t buy it.
Oh good, here comes Lois to be awful as usual.
It is quite useful that they both have moms named Martha! I CALLED IT, MOVIE, YOU CAN’T PULL NOTHIN’ ON ME!
Oh wow Lois is not awful for once; good for her!
Wait so that was all it took, them having moms with the same name? Now they’re friends? Really? This is how a bromance starts?
WHERE IS WONDER WOMAN?
Alfred is so chill about battling Russian mercenaries remotely via drone.
Okay, I like this fight, this is good, old-fashioned, Batman ass kicking Russians stuff to save Martha Deux.
How awkward would it be if Batman just totally let Martha die? “Hey, so Clark, uh, bad news, buddy…”
Martha meets Batman: “I’m a friend of your son’s.” “I figured…the cape.” Literally only line I laughed at in the whole movie so far that I was supposed to laugh at.
SHUT UP EVIL MARK ZUCKERBERG.
That monster made from Zod and EMZ blood is gross.
WHERE IS WONDER WOMAN SHE COULD BE VERY USEFUL RN IS ALL I’M SAYING.
Lol I love that Anderson Cooper is reporting on the monster with CNN scroll “ARMY CLASHES WITH CREATURE” that’s pretty good.
Wonder Woman is finally like, okay, these douches obvi cannot handle this without me brb flight attendant I gotta go take care of this for them because #feminism #ImWithHer.
The prez gonna nuke superman like a moron. I’m sure Trump would be all over that, he’s not a fan of immigrants, as we know.
Batman is like, OH NO MY NEW AND ONLY FRIEND WAAAAAAH WE WERE GONNA HAVE BOARD GAME NIGHT!
I’m so shocked that by nuking the monster they made it stronger. Attacking the monster with energy NEVER MAKES IT STRONGER, NEVER IN THE HISTORY OF MONSTERS (*dies from sarcasm*)
Zod-monster is un-killable, except, I BET, WITH BATMAN’S KRYPTONITE SCEPTER AMIRITE?
I was right about the scepter.
Superman is enjoying a really luxurious yellow sun bath rn and he looks ten years younger, it’s better than a leech facial, can I get a groupon for that treatment?
YASS WONDER WOMAN FINALLY!
Okay, I love that both boys are like, “wait, she’s not with you?”
Zero surprise that WW joins the team and the movie gets 10x snappier and more entertaining #misandry #mwahaha
GOOD JOB LOIS YOU COULD HAVE COMPLETELY AVOIDED ALMOST DROWNING IF YOU’D JUST CHILLED OUT FOR THREE SECONDS. Even Clark’s like, girl, just leave this one to me, okay? it’s cute that you try, but come on.
Lois, chill, Clark ain’t gonna die.
Wait, wait, wait. What?
Nuh-uh, is this shit for real?
I do not buy it. How do you have a Justice League without Superman? I assume he gonna be resurrected, I dunno, I didn’t read the comics, but he’s basically Jesus, right? I haven’t been to church in over a decade, either; I don’t remember how this works. Something about a cave and a rock and a prostitute?
Now there are dual funerals with symbolism and an engagement ring, and Batman is all like, “I failed him.” Uh, yeah, Batman. You totally did fail him. A lot. WW agrees with me, too.
“The devil’s coming omg he’s coming ding ding ding!” God, Bald Evil Mark Zuckerberg is annoying right up until the bitter end, isn’t he?
Okay yeah def Superman’s gonna be resurrected, floating dirt particles, okay fine.
After credits scene? Nope, not on Comcast at least.
Verdict: This movie was meh at best. I was entertained (and even surprised by Superman/Jesus death) by the last hour, but the first 1.5 hours needed some MAJOR editing. Also, a note to filmmakers: if your flashback or dream does not move the plot forward, CUT IT. Ain’t nobody got time for that. I would have liked the movie better if it had more shirtless Henry Cavill, as well, because I like objectifying hot men because MISANDRY, MWAHAHAHAH!
Here are ten faces Paul Ryan* makes (to himself for now, but I’m sure increasingly to others as the election continues, especially if Trump continues to publicly accept congratulations on being “right” when 50 people are murdered in a gay club by an asshole) when he is just going about his day and then suddenly remembers that he has publicly endorsed Donald Trump for President and has committed himself to voting for him in November.
*Also applies to Mitch McConnell.
And, of course…
Oh, Paul. I’d say I feel sorry for you, but you brought this on yourself. If it makes you feel any better, at least people forgot about this for a moment!
It’s Memorial Day, which means wedding season has officially begun! I adore going to the beautiful weddings of people I love (luckily for me, because I have four to attend before the year is out!), but I gotta be honest: I’m pretty iffy the #millennial trend of #weddinghashtags. Practically, I get that it’s helpful to aggregate social media photos of the wedding, but also…isn’t that what the professional photog’s getting paid $150 an hour to do? I do think hashtags would be more fun if, instead of some cute pun on the future spouses’ names, they revealed key truths about the couple in question. However, it’s probably not gonna happen, so I’ve compiled a list of accurate wedding hashtags you won’t see on insta this summer for your entertainment:
Cheers to happy couples everywhere! 😉
*Disclaimer to everyone whose weddings I am attending this summer: lol this is not you. Except maybe the mason jars one, because come on, who DOESN’T love mason jars? My wedding is gonna take place in a fucking mason jar, people!
I have been dealing with a lingering depressive/anxiety episode, and it wasn’t getting much better, and then someone shared this on one of my fave comment boards: it is a LIVE WALRUS CAM! YOU CAN WATCH THE WALRUSES ALL SUMMER LONG 24/7! THIS IS AMAZING!
This is a live feed of the walruses, who are doing some really good walrusing (?) in Round Island, Alaska all summer. Per Science(TM), the walruses congregate here to chill, basically, when they’re not having sex, which is in the winter. According to Wikipedia, it’s called a “haul out,” but I’m going to go ahead and call it “Walrus Netflix & Chill,” but without the requisite binge-watching of Arrested Development (seasons 1-3 only, because S4 was middling at best). They basically spend a lot of time sleeping and sometimes swimming around with their friends before sleeping more. They are adorable and I love them and they have entirely cured me of depression.
Okay, so that’s not true, but they are just GREAT, and how cool is it that I can watch these walruses and listen to their walrus sounds and watch them as they walrus from the comfort of my bedroom in HD? What a great time to be alive, so go FUCK YOURSELF, DEPRESSION! WITNESS THESE WALRUSES, AND BEGONE!
I grew up in a small town in New Hampshire, where most people looked alike and many thought alike and there wasn’t a Starbucks until the Target opened in the late aughts. My mind was blown when I moved to San Francisco, to NYC, and then back to SF over the past nine years. I currently live in the Haight in SF, which is a great area – Golden Gate park is a 2 minute walk away from my front door; I can order any kind of food, from Thai to Korean to surf ‘n turf, and have it delivered within an hour; I can write and work in one of what seems to be a million indie coffee shops; there are endless dogs to pet, interesting people to meet, and pretentious bookshops to browse around every corner.
And yet, sometimes I miss the hell out of small-town life and HATE this fucking place. Cities can be as isolating as they are exciting, and as unwelcoming as they are diverse. So while I’m sure I’ll feel better about San Francisco tomorrow, today I’m sharing the 10 reasons I sometimes hate this city:
10. Cost of Living: SF is always listed as one of the most expensive cities to live in not only in the US but in the world. The tech boom is a double-edged sword; it provides many well-paying jobs, but it creates so many true million- and billionaires that even people making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year have trouble keeping up with climbing rents and impossible price tags on houses. And if you’re a teacher or a fireman or a server or an otherwise normal person? HA! Forget about it! And rent control is great until your landlord sells your building to a tech CEO who turns it into his third home for his purebred dogs, and then you can’t afford anything else and have to go live in a van down by the river…or Walnut Creek.
9. Public Transportation: If you live in SF and you’re reading this, you’re laughing because HAHAHAH WHAT PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION? To be fair, MUNI was not built to handle the population boom we have going on, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating to wait for a bus that never comes, or have to stand under the fragrant armpit of a man who’s never heard of deodorant on Caltrain for the 90 minute commute from San Jose.
8. Weed Smell: I have no issue with weed in general; I think it should be legal. But, my God, can people please just go to edibles and pills already? I do NOT want to smell cigarette smoke, and I sure as HELL do not want to smell your skunky weed every night at 10 pm, DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBORS! Also, you have a TWO YEAR OLD KID MAYBE LAY OFF THE SECONDHAND WEED SMOKE UNTIL SHE’S AT LEAST SIX?
7. Walking on the street as a woman: I have nothing but sympathy for the many homeless men in San Francisco – until and unless they harass me when I’m walking alone, especially in the evenings. I’m not talking about panhandling (“Do you have a dollar? Have a good night!”); I’m talking about following me while ranting vaguely sexual shit, or pinching or poking me as I walk by, or even staring menacingly from a doorway and licking their lips (ew, and yes that has happened). Homeless men are not the only offenders when it comes to street harassment, but because of pure numbers they make up the majority of street harassers I deal with on a daily basis–and mental illness is not an excuse for a large number of them; they are sound enough of mind to know what they’re doing. Attention all men, homeless or otherwise: DO NOT HARASS PEOPLE ON THE STREET, PARTICULARLY WOMEN! It is actually frightening for us! For real!
6. Lines: Okay, this is not just a SF thing but a West Coast thing: WHY DO YOU PEOPLE FROM THE WEST COAST ENJOY LINES SO MUCH? Lines for brunch, lines for the food cart, lines for the McDonald’s, lines for standing in lines, and never any urgency on the part of the line-standers to move things along. LIKE, YOU JUST STOOD IN LINE FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES AND YOU STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT SANDWICH YOU WANT? How are you alive? This would not fly back East.
5. People Everywhere: As an anxious, introverted person, I get very overwhelmed by crowds, and sometimes it seems like every block in SF is Bourbon Street on Mardi Gras. So then I stay in my apartment more than is good for me and become lonely and isolated in a city of 800,000, all of whom seem to be standing on the sidewalk with me at any given time. It kind of blows.
4. Parking: Sometimes, you just want to park like a normal person in a parking lot, go into a store, buy your shit, load it up into your car, and then drive back to your place. In SF this is nearly impossible because a.) like me, many people don’t have garages or parking spaces and therefore don’t have cars, and b.) there is no parking anywhere. I KNOW CARS ARE BAD AND EMISSIONS ARE BAD BUT MY GOD CAN’T WE JUST DRIVE TO TARGET TODAY FOR TOILET PAPER INSTEAD OF TAKING TWO BUSES AND AN UBER?
3. People yelling “wooooo!!!”: In the dead of night, people stand in the streets, drunk or high or just really excited to be awake when everyone else is sleeping, and yell “WOOOOOOO!” at the top of their lungs for several minutes, waking you and everyone else in your building up. It sucks, and does not happen in my parents’ cul-de-sac in New Hampshire.
2. Thin layer of poop on everything: All cities have this issue, but San Francisco is one of the worst I’ve seen – there is basically a thin layer of dog and/or human feces on EVERYTHING, everywhere you go. Walking down the sidewalk is an endless game of hopscotch to avoid the poop, but even if you avoid the obvious piles of excrement you know that the entire surface of the road and sidewalk and probably the floor of your apartment is coated in invisible fecal matter. Really lovely.
1. All my friends are here: This is the best and worst part of San Francisco – ALL MY EFFING FRIENDS ARE HERE! Most days, this is a blessing, but whenever I hate SF and its people and weed and shitty buses and want to move to a cheap small town where I could own a Prius and drive to Target, I’m stopped by the fact that I LOVE YOU GUYS AND YOU ARE MOSTLY HERE! Talk about inconvenient. Any of you interested in establishing a small farming commune with me in New Hampshire? Eh?
Okay, I’m off to buy some organic kale at the local farmers’ market before taking in a yoga class because my SF life is SO HARD! 😉 #whining #millennialproblems
Please leave your thoughts in the comments and like and share if you enjoyed this 🙂
I’m a BIG fan of uteri. I spent nine months in one, as did nearly all of us (no judgment to those of you who were grown in a Borg maturation chamber; I do NOT discriminate–some of my best friends are cybernetic life forms!). I’m even usually okay with my own uterus, with the exception of about six days each month. But uteri are complicated. They do a lot of shit, and if you’re a man, or even a young girl, you probably don’t understand the workings an implications of uteri in general, or in having one in particular. As a uterus-haver for over three decades now, I thought I’d share my wisdom. Prepare to be enlightened.
How it works: Despite hundreds of years of Science(TM), the uterus remains an icky mystery that no one should learn about in school, ever. Allow me to provide some clarity:
The uterus is an internal organ that is attached to a woman’s (EW!) vagina by a Service; I’m not sure what kind of Service, like if it’s an app like Uber or what, but that’s how they’re connected. *SCIENCE SHRUG* Until puberty, the uterus is filled with a divine pure light, which dissipates the moment a young girl has her first period and becomes a disgustingly tempting sexual being who’d better keep her legs SHUT. Every month, a tiny baby is released from the ovary, which is like a baby dispensary, and floats down a straw into the uterus, which is nice and comfy for it with a bed and an open bar and a designer wardrobe and everything. Sadly, this baby is soulless until and unless a sperm comes in through the vagina (EW!) and the Service and makes it alive. If this happens, the baby is now the Unborn(TM) and is the most precious form of life you will ever see, at least until it is born, after which time it is ON ITS FUCKING OWN. If there is no sperm, however, the baby is just flushed out through the Service and vagina with some blood (EW!) until a new baby comes down the straw the next month; this is called a Period, or, if you’re polite, “Aunt Flo’s visit, *wink*!” Periods happen until a woman hits menopause, which is when her baby dispensary ovaries are out of babies, and the woman becomes a useless shell and must leave public life and hide her unsightly, wrinkled body from the light of day and the eyes of men and fertile women.
How to care for it: Ladies: except for this blog post, it’s best to not think at all about caring your uterus, because thinking is hard and we’d rather you just go make some babies, thanks! If you’re a man, you’re the one who should be doing the thinking about uteruses for women, because, you know, reasons, but not TOO much thinking, because it’s gross.
So, gentlemen, here are the things you should know about caring for uteruses in some detail but no too much detail because EWWWWWW (Ladies, go bake something or scrub a dish, okay?):
-Women may complain of cramps when they get their periods (that’s the thing where the baby is flushed out through the Service, remember?), but they are lying and it’s all in their heads. Make sure you dismiss any complaints of discomfort, excessive bleeding or pain, dizziness, depression or other symptoms with verbal disparagement, or, if you’re pressed for time, an elegant eyeroll. How else are you going to get us to stop whining about made-up shit? Of course, even though we women are making up these symptoms, we are always bitchy and emotional on our periods, so you should make sure you take that into account when deciding whether or not we get that new corner office or pay raise!
-Uteruses are magic–they always work perfectly, especially during pregnancy, so women definitely don’t need accessible, affordable healthcare to stay healthy before, during, or after gestation, and any time off from work is just laughable! You may hear some rumors that uteruses sometimes “miscarry,” which is a fancy term for murdering the Unborn(TM) because the uterus-haver (aka “mother”) offended her god or didn’t cover her mouth when she coughed or looked at a fish or something. This does happen, and when it does you should make sure to shame the uterus-haver for not having seen this coming or made better choices or prayed harder! Uteruses also never allow babies of rape to be conceived, so don’t worry–if your teenage daughter comes to you sobbing saying her teacher forced himself on her and now she’s pregnant, you know that she was ACTUALLY asking for it, because if it was REALLY rape her body would have shut that whole thing down.
-Women cannot make decisions about their own uteruses, guys. We just can’t be trusted to figure this stuff out, so please, make sure you pass laws at every opportunity limiting our access to services that could help us make decisions about our uteruses, from pregnancy to birth control options, while also cutting benefits for families and children who are disadvantaged. Really, it’s all you can do to prevent us from running amok and just uterus-ing all over the place with our period blood (EW!) and independent thoughts! Thanks 🙂
What it all means: Okay, ladies, you can come back out of the kitchen and join us again! Here’s the crux of it–a uterus is the most important thing a woman can have, with the possible exception of BOOBS (TEEHEE!). The uterus is the core of a woman’s being, and if you don’t use it to procreate, well, you best not be having any sort of sex (TEEHEE!) because sex is only so that the sperm can come through the Service and give souls to the Unborn(TM). If you are having sex (TEEHEE!) and not getting pregnant, you’re basically a murderer. If you are a lesbian, well, that’s just a phase, and you’re a murderer by omission. If you are celibate, well, why are you such a frigid bitch?, and also you’re a murderer. If you want to get pregnant and can’t because of medical issues, well, what did you do in a past life to deserve this, and why are you such a poor excuse for a woman? Stop whining and wasting so much money on IVF! Why don’t you just adopt!? Oh, and also, you’re a murderer.
Next steps: Now that you’ve learned everything there is to know about uteri (yes, the above text contains all the information you’ll ever need to know), first things first: you’re welcome. Secondly, go use this info, guys and gals! If you’re a guy, make sure to spend all your time and energy legislating uteri for their own good, and if you’re a girl, well–is your baby coming down the straw yet? If so, time to get gestating!
Shameful uterus-haver who has not had a baby, this post is all a lie, WHY AM I EVEN ALIVE,
Please leave your comments below, unless you are a GOP legislator or the ghost of Antonin Scalia. And if you have a spare five bucks, in all seriousness, Planned Parenthood is a wonderful organization.
Dear Higher Power,
I know you haven’t heard from me in a while, but I try not to bother you unless it’s, ya know, serious. Thanks for being a sport, and…prepare yourself.
I’ve been grappling with something big recently; a spiritual struggle that transcends any I’ve known before. I’ve been asking myself a question, and no matter how I plumb the depths of my soul and mind, I cannot answer it. Do you know, Higher Power?
Do you know what happens to my tote bags when I die?
For years, I didn’t give the presence of tote bags in my life a thought. Before college, they weren’t even a factor. If you went to the grocery store, your purchased items went into a bag (“paper or plastic?”), and you took the bag and brought it to your car and then your house and then the paper bags became recycling bags and the plastic bags became liners for your tiny bathroom waste basket. It wasn’t uncommon to have a drawer chock full of plastic Stop-N-Shop bags, just waiting to be filled with tissues and tampon wrappers, or to be vomited into after a really bad night at the dive bar.
And then, overnight, or so it seemed, things changed. “Would you like to purchase an eco-friendly tote bag for $1.95?” the cashier asked one day, her cheerful gaze barely masking contempt at my obvious hesitation. Why would I buy a canvas tote bag when the plastic one provided by the store was free, I wondered? But then I looked into her eyes, and knew that $1.95 plus tax was a small price to pay to avoid the shame of being publicly labeled as against the environment by Cheryl at the organic Co-op in the Financial District in NYC. “Yes, please!” I said, handing over my debit card and grasping the hefty canvas tote–to the cashier’s obvious approval and relief.
Suddenly, the cheerful offer to purchase a tote bag with every grocery trip became more sinister: “Do you need a bag today, or did you bring your own?” I was horrified to discover that it was now expected that I bring my own tote bags to the grocery store, so as to save the environment. If I didn’t, I was irresponsible, callous, even discourteous. Unplanned stops at the grocery store caused extreme shame as I babbled my excuses to the unimpressed baggers: “Oh, I was just out for a run, and then I realized I needed some milk. Usually I bring my own bags! I have tons of them at home, I promise, it’s just this once!”
It was never just this once, and the baggers knew it–and they showed their disappointment in their scowls.
But the truth was, I did have tons of tote bags at home! The drawer that once contained crumpled masses of plastic was now brimming with yards of canvas covered with the logos of every grocery store in NYC. And yet, I could never remember to bring an empty tote with me at all times in case I needed to make an unscheduled purchase–earning me the wrath not only of grocery employees but of my fellow customers at well. “Someone forgot their bags, hmm?” the lady in the fur coat would ask, apparently unaware of the existence of the word “irony.”
Then, after a move back to San Francisco, my tote bag shame became codified into law: California taxes 10 cents per a paper bag at the grocery store, which you can of course avoid if you bring your own. My tote bag collection, which had diminished during the packing process, was sorely lacking, so I slowly built it back up again, with totes from every establishment in the city gracing the floor of my coat closet: Whole Foods. Trader Joe’s. Burger Urge. That Store With The Fifty Dollar White T-Shirts. Even Walgreens, for Christ’s sake.
And here is where my spiritual crisis began to arise. What the FUCK, I asked myself as I selected two of my favorite tote bags, so chosen for their wide, sturdy handles, for a trip to the local market, is going to happen to all these damned tote bags when I die?
The purpose of these multi-purpose bags is to save the environment, but when I die, whether it’s six years from now or sixty, won’t my friends/family/children/pets/landlords just want to throw these things the fuck out? Should I provide for their distribution in my will? Will a crafty friend have them made into a really uncomfortable and ugly commemorative quilt? Will my great-great-grandchildren be showing my tote bags to their kids in a far distant future where they all live on the starship Enterprise? Behold, these are the tote bags of your ancestor, who lived before the advent of warp speed and universal health care; treasure them always! If they are thrown out, do they compost? Or will they just add to a giant landfill somewhere? And if they are thrown out, then what was the point of anything?
What was the point of anything?
WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ANYTHING?
Is it all a lie, Higher Power? Am I really helping the environment? Or is it all a conspiracy funded by Big Tote, and are all my canvas bags destined to choke poor, innocent dolphins in the ocean? What is the answer, HP? WHAT HAPPENS TO MY TOTE BAGS WHEN I DIE?
As always, thanks for your consideration, Higher Power. I’d like to hear back on this before Tuesday, when I’m planning on going to the grocery store. Whole Foods is offering a 2-for-1 deal on Spring-themed canvas tote bags with every purchase, and I’d like to know ahead of time whether I’ll be wasting my money or damning my soul and the fate of the human race for all eternity.
Peace, love, and tote bags,
Please leave your thoughts in the comments, like and share if you enjoyed, and if you need a tote bag, just come by my place and I can probably hook you up.