It’s not a regret, it’s an “experience” Articles

People I didn’t expect to be

Hello! The husband and I and some friends went out to see a concert last night and this morning I feel positively hungover even though I didn't drink. It's the staying up late during the week, you see. I am old. Plus the concert venue was one without seating, which meant we stood for a zillion hours (okay, maybe three?) and did I mention I am old and my usual location is sitting at a computer? Because that. Also my hair smells like flavored vape smoke and you kids should get off my lawn. Anyway. Hold that thought. First I thought I'd update you on the current state of elderly dog-ness in our...

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The little blue car that could(n’t)

I just went back in my archives to see if I ever wrote about getting a new car a few years back, and apparently I did not. It was Chickadee's senior year of high school, and there was a lot of other stuff going on, and also I vaguely remember my ex making a snarky comment about it to me (which immediately sent me into a reflexive shame spiral of "I don't deserve nice things" because a traumatized brain is a complex and stupid thing), and so somehow, I never talked about it, I think. But: just before Christmas of 2015, Trixie, my trusty old Corolla, became Chickadee's very own car, while I...

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Baked halfway into a coma already

Hello, and happy cooking frenzy before Thanksgiving! Just to give you an idea of how I'm doing: a few minutes ago the husband and I were having a positively RIVETING conversation about how to reconfigure our dining room to fit the approximately eight billion (slight exaggeration) people showing up here tomorrow, and upon its conclusion I headed back into the kitchen and took a deep swig of my coffee. Except I am lying; that's not what happened. What actually happened was that I brought the coffee cup up to my mouth and TRIED to take a deep swig of my coffee, and instead I poured coffee all...

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The saga of the new bed

Perhaps you recall that wayyyy back in August, I spent a significant amount of time digging out our master bedroom so that my husband wouldn't divorce me because it had become quite cluttered. This, naturally, led to multiple discussions about What We Should Do In Here, with Otto never even once agreeing with me that "set fire to everything and walk away" was a good option. (Hmph.) We agreed that Real Furniture---not the "half of my bedroom set from my first marriage plus random other pieces" assortment we currently have---would be great, and we even agree on what sort of furniture we would...

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Mama Grizzly mode, activated

I wanted to share a picture of Chickadee's shoes on her first day of the semester, because for those of you who've stuck around for a long time, shoe pictures and the first day of school are a tradition 'round here, and this would've been a very significant picture, because... it will be the last one (at least for a good long while, anyway). Because---I hope you're sitting down, people who started reading here when my darling Chickie-pie was 6 years old and sassy beyond her years---my once tiny and chirpy firstborn is graduating from college in just a few months. Graduating. From. College....

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How to spend all your money without really trying

Whoops, I left another one of those long gaps, huh? I didn't mean to. I've just been so busy crying, you see. [Sidebar: EVERYTHING IS FINE. It's so fine, it's all-caps fine. I have to keep reminding myself of this. EVERYTHING IS FINE.] When I last left you, my awesome rainbow chairs were finished, but also so was our fridge. I was trying to just go with it, you know? Because the rainbow rockers truly are awesome. (In fact, they're so awesome, recently a gruff, busy-on-his-cell-phone UPS man embodying every stereotype you might imagine came up the walkway, saw the chairs, and when I greeted...

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Win some, lose some (paint some, replace some)

Oh my goodness, it's been a week. Or two weeks. I'm not even sure. It all starts to blend together, you know? When last we spoke, I was enthusiastically embarking upon Project Rainbow, or---more specifically---the "simple" task of repainting the rockers from our front porch with some actual rainbows, and although it was slow going I knew I would triumph and be pleased. Well. At this point in time I definitely AM pleased, and one out of two isn't bad, right? I mean, look, they came out pretty okay: (That's not the front porch, by the way. That's the back porch, where I spent one gazillion...

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More rainbows, less BS

I once worked a temp job for a small organization where I handled the copyediting for their newsletter, and I quickly learned that my boss' biggest pet peeve was the correct (or, I guess more to the point, often incorrect) usage of "less" vs. "fewer." I already had a college degree and was dismayed to discover no one had ever explained the difference to me, but explain she did, and I have never forgotten. You use "less" if it's not a thing you would quantify by number. You use "fewer" if the item in question is something you can (or, more importantly, logically would) count. At some point in...

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This post is covered in pollen

Hello! Sorry it's been so long. In my defense, I was busy dying. I mean, OKAY, not DYING dying, just dying a little bit. Dying in the "dear God, I have woken up with a massive headache every day this week" and the "do I have a cold? a sinus infection? BUBONIC PLAGUE IN MY NOSE??" sense, which is to say: it's springtime in the south! The whole world is covered in a grainy yellow coating, my eyes are itchy, etc. Everyone is making the same joke about how meth dealers are trying to turn their product back into Sudafed, and we all laugh every single time, because what else can you do? Well, I...

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