The fact is there is nothing good to read on the internet. Seriously, I scroll though blog after blog on wordpress and you know what I find? A lot of political ranting, some uber feminist babbling followed by more political ranting. Sometimes there is a side note in there about environmental ruin and the destruction of life on earth as we know it.
This makes me feel personally responsible for bringing joy and light to my fellow human beings, which is hard because I’m not really full of joy and light, mostly because so many things piss me off.
Also, why do we need so many blog posts about politics and the environment? Seriously, if you have been alive for… (I’m guessing) 20 years and have paid attention to anything than you already know that we, as a species, are ruining everything and that we cannot collectively elect a leader that makes anyone happy. I don’t really see the point in belaboring these facts by blogging about them. That is what the news is for. Want to see how terrible everything is? Turn on CNN.
I know I’m coming across and trite and glib but fo’ real – in a world of mass shootings and terror extremists what we really need to do it shut the fuck up and stop feeding in to it. We need more pictures of kittens, we need more stories of families and communities coming together for something good (like beer).
We should all go out right now and buy some random person a beer and hear their story and if we all did that everyday than we’d all be happier and probably 15 pounds heavier and have lost our job because I’m writing this at 8:42 in the morning. But honestly people, if your job doesn’t support you buying strangers beer before breakfast than you need to rethink your job.
I have no proper ending to this post; here is a picture of a cute kitten:
I’ve lived a lot of places, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of everywhere. On the edge of the pacific ocean, once in the back of a Ford Gran Torino station wagon (still roomier than some of my apartments). When my husband and I made the decision to leave our quiet corner of the city and move to the suburbs the idea was fraught with many unknowns but the biggest question we asked ourselves was “are the sort of people that can make friends in a mild manner neighborhood of the suburbs?”
No, we are not the kind of people able to make friends with mild manner suburban neighbors.
Fortunately for us we haven’t encountered any mild manner suburban neighbors. Two years into our tenure in the burbs and I have discovered these common misconceptions:
- Walking your dog after work is really just an excuse to initiate an impromptu happy hour, “Hey, how was your day? Want a beer, I have one here in my pocket.” “Oh, this? No this coffee cup is full of Chardonnay…”
- It’s cool if everyone has access to your house. “Oh you need honey, sure I’m not home but just let yourself in, it’s in the pantry. Use the big one, not the small organic kind – see you later. I’ll stop by with a cup of chardonnay!”
- You need to get something done, just invite all the neighborhood kids over. Nothing gives you free time like having your kid engaged in play with other kids. Need to make dinner? Write a blog post? Go to the bathroom by yourself? Just call your neighbors!
A few weeks ago I had to suit up, stay late at work and attend a board meeting for my job. The meeting went late and dinner was ordered. A LOT of dinner, so much so that by the time I left there was an entire catering tray of salad that was never even opened.
I took the salad and an unopened container of balsamic vinaigrette dressing and on my way home dropped it off to a pregnant homeless woman who I knew would be sitting outside of the WaWa on the way back to my car.
I presented her with the salad and she seemed very grateful and then I brought out the dressing and she said, “What the hell is that? Gravy!?!” and I said “Yup, it’s the latest thing, salad gravy and it’s delicious!”
Also a few weeks ago one of my best friends (Jess) adopted a baby girl. It’s a huge deal that has been years in the making and I couldn’t be happier for them. Lucy has followed the development and the idea of adoption with equal parts fascination and confusion.
A few days after getting the baby, I was putting Lucy to bed at night and she asked if I could please give her a sister, I explained (for the eleventy hundredth time) that simply wasn’t going to happen and she responded by asking if her cousin Emmy could come live with us and be her sister. I told her that I would ask Emmy’s Mom but I was pretty sure that the answer would be “no.” Lucy asked why and I responded with, “Because people don’t just give away their kids honey”. She looked at my and stated very matter of factly, “well, that women did for Jess.”
Touché Lucy, touché.