Thank you for sharing with me the link to the car you want.
I regret to inform you that we are not going to get you a car at this time.
There are three very good reasons for this decision:
You do not yet have your license. You only have a permit until September.
You haven’t saved up enough money.
You are failing four out of seven classes.
Also, a MUSTANG? As a teenaged boy? A teenaged boy with terrible grades? You will not be able to afford the insurance. We will not be able to afford the insurance.
You said you wanted a car to be able to drive yourself to football practice, thus making it easier for us.
Thank you for your concern.
What I can offer you is my bus pass. The No. 25 goes right to your school.
Love,
Mama
*Thanks, Tracy Chapman. (Now try to get that song out of your head.)
I need you to calm the F down right now. I’m not sure why you feel the need to clamor for my attention, but perioral dermatitis is not a good look for me.
I guess I should be happy I can hide it behind a mask right now.
But I’ve been dealing with you on and off for three years.
These are all the options I’ve had over the past three years to fix you.
The latest dermatologist said that this flare up was NOT due to my nickel allergy, but to the ointment the prior dermatologist told me to use.
She was horrified when I told her I was using it twice a day every time the rash popped up again. As instructed.
Fantastic.
I’m on a new antibiotic and have a new cream to get you to settle. But she said you would get much worse before you got better.
She was right.
I can’t even wear makeup right now. #nofilter Clearly.
I’m so glad you showed up. I suddenly feel much more optimistic about … everything.
Tomatoes, basil, mint, oregano
I have new herbs planted on the balcony, and I had my first hummingbird fly-by of the season this morning. He was a beautiful ruby-throated specimen. It wasn’t Tony. This one was a little wary of me. I’ll call him Ned.
I’ve been filling the feeder for weeks in anticipation.
(If you fill it, they will come.)
Fall always used to be my favorite season, but you’ve really grown on me over the past few years.
I don’t want to scare you off, but I think I love you.
So thanks for being you. I’m so glad to have you in my life.
When did women sign up to be house managers? Hint: We didn’t.
Maybe in the Cleaver-style 1950s, things were more equitable. Men worked. Women stayed at home, raised the kids, and kept house. But now most women have full-time jobs and STILL have all the things to do at home.
Yes, there are exceptions. Yes, I’m oversimplifying. Yes, yes, yes.
But still my point remains.
I know you want to @ me with sentences that start with:
“But not all men … “
“But what about … “
“But I do … “
Please don’t.
Look. Listen. I’m sure you are lovely and think you are an equal partner.
But I bet you are not.
Ask the lady in your life. Listen to what she says.
Now that I’m conscious of mental load, I notice things I never noticed before. Gender roles are so ingrained.
A couple of weeks ago, we were visiting the house where my sister in law is staying until she gets her own place. It’s the home of a lovely professional couple. We were all outside chatting: three male adults, two male teenagers, three female adults. The lady of the house was being a good Southern hostess — getting drinks, bug spray, snacks, etc. My SIL disappeared. I found her in the kitchen alone making dinner. I rolled up my sleeves and started helping. We were in there working on dinner for about two hours while the guys had a nice chat outside.
To recap: Women inside making dinner or serving snacks/drinks. Men outside relaxing.
To be fair, when my SIL asked a couple of the men to help with one part of the dinner, they did.
But they had to be asked.
Now reread the article I linked.
That’s right.
Now do you see?
I thought you might.
Thanks in advance for taking on more of the mental load. Your partner will appreciate it.
Herds of people are celebrating your version of “Justice League.” That’s great for you. (I still don’t understand why it had to be four hours, but good for you and your “vision.”)
I did not watch the Joss Whedon version. My family invited me, but I declined.
Considering the fact that I fell asleep during “Batman v. Superman” and the last installment of the Bale Batman series, I thought it would be a pricey nap.
I’m just a Marvel kind of gal.
Why?
The characters are more interesting.
The story arcs make more sense.
There’s humor.
I’m never bored.
Before your fans come after me with torches, let me just say that these are all just my opinions. I realize that there are DC diehards. To each his own.
But I had planned to give your version a go because people I like and respect liked it.
I had not planned to be forced to watch it after a long day of driving and this adult Capri Sun.
But Dominic insisted.
After the first five minutes featured yelling only, I knew this was not the movie for me.
Me: How long does this screaming last? Dominic: [lengthy plot explanation] Me: I don’t want to know the plot. I’m watching it. I should be able just to watch this movie without back story.
How have I seen loads of DC movies and never seen/heard of Steppenwolf (the hammerhead supervillain made of what looks like razor blades)? Was I napping?
Why is Wonder Woman wearing a club dress to work?
Why does Aquaman even bother with shirts if he’s just going to leave them littering beaches?
I made it 38 minutes before I settled in for my DC nap.
You know it’s bad when Jason Momoa doesn’t hold my interest.
Even Eddie, who likes DC movies, was forced to watch it alone after three other people fell asleep on him twice.
This morning, Dominic made me watch the Flash scene where he saves Iris. Yes, it was cute. This is a good version of Flash. Also the comic relief. And I like Batfleck. (But he’s no Keaton.)
Still.
Four hours? Six chapters plus an epilogue? Lord.
But you know what? My opinion doesn’t matter. You have three fans IN MY OWN HOUSE to counteract me.
So good for you, and I wish you all the best. You seem like a really nice guy.
I know that the meme is comparing these two because of their beef, but Cardi B is an entertainer. Candace Owens is not.
It is possible that young girls can idolize both, and also various other public figures as well as people in their own lives.
We need to normalize black and brown people in positions of power. It shouldn’t be EITHER Cardi B OR Candace Owens.
Why is this a left/right thing?
I know you and loads of your kind (aka white Boomers) are clutching your pearls over Cardi B’s Grammy performance and the song in general.
I have thoughts about that too:
I bet you didn’t even watch. Your friends and people on chosen news outlets (i.e., Owens) told you that you should be wound up.
If you did watch and were offended, you could have turned it off.
It should not be considered offensive to celebrate female sexuality. (I got into it at Christmas over “WAP” vs. “Baby It’s Cold Outside.”)
All of this is so silly to me. All my life, I’ve heard older people lose their minds about music, video games, books and whatnot having a negative impact on children.
You know who should be worried about children? Their parents. Period.
I’m far from perfect, but I do frankly address topics like sex, drugs, etc., with my boys. I’d rather they hear the truth from me, as uncomfortable as it may be for them and for me.
So stop worrying about what other people and their children are/are not doing, and mind your own business.
Also, perhaps consider getting out of the meme game.
Sincerely,
Your daughter’s friend
*People actually complained to the FCC about the performance. Get a grip! It’s the Grammys. What do you expect? Everyone knew Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion were going to perform. Just change the channel if you don’t like it.
Observe and report 