An Ode To My Mother (Sort of?) And Izze Domination

Mom: “I love that you’re not listening right now because we’re probably just going to go home. 1… 2… ”

Kid: “I’m listening now..”

Mom: “Yeah, after I got to two and three quarters.”

This was an exchange I heard while grocery shopping today between an exasperated mother and her child. I’m not a mom so I don’t think I have the right to speak on parenting styles, but when I hear this sort of thing in the store I think about my own parents and how they would deal with kid Janelle in this situation. I know my siblings and I acted like huge brats when we went shopping, even though overall we were pretty well behaved kids. Most of our trips would end with my mom yelling at us in the car and saying, “remind me not to take ya’ll anywhere with me again.” Or “next time I’m leaving you at home” or some variation of “I wish you guys didn’t exist right now.” I LOVE YOU MOM. But seriously we were awful sometimes, whining about wanting stuff we knew we couldn’t have and/or didn’t need. And yet she always took us anyway, because she’s the best mom ever. 

I remember once I so desperately wanted this outfit from some store. I was maybe, 11? 12? And for sure I thought if I couldn’t have it hell fire would consume this God forsaken world. I pitched such a childish fit the entire time we were in the store until my mom finally had enough and angrily bought me what I wanted. I was happy for all of two minutes until I realized how mad my mom was. When we got in the car I demanded she return it because I didn’t want it like this. How she didn’t slap me into my 30th birthday is beyond me. This post wasn’t supposed to be about how beautiful and wonderful and patient and kind and loving and ohmygoodnessImisshersomuch… sorry guys, I just really love my mother.

ANYWAY, the point is, as easy as it is to criticize parents whose kids act the plum fool in public, even with well behaved kids it can be a challenge to be a parent. (Hi, my name is Captain Obvious and I’ll be giving you a tour of No Duh University today.) I was always ready to say stuff like “These white people need to learn to control they’re children” (Sorry white people), but for the first time I kind of just felt sorry for the mom. She sounded so warn down. I’m sure I’ll still make jokes about it when I see some kid literally running the show, dragging the lifeless bodies of their parents behind them, but I really needed something to blog about so just, listen to my musings and tell me I’m thoughtful.

Also, I cleared out the grapefruit Izze’s in Big Lots today. Well, I almost did. The self-control part of my brain still works from time to time. But I did buy ten.


I Need A Hobby, Also Honesty Isn’t Always The Best Policy

Have you guys (my adoring, zero person audience) read that article about the woman who got hate mail because of the baby pictures she was posting on Facebook? Okay, well if you haven’t, here’s the letter:

“I have got together with a few of the girls and we are all SO OVER your running commentary of your life and every single thing Addy does. Look we all have kids that we are besotted with — guess what – every parent thinks their kid is the best ever. But we don’t ram it down everyone else’s neck!!! She wears a new outfit – well take a photo and send it PRIVATELY to the person who gave it to her – not to everyone!!!! She crawls off the mat – we DON’T care!!!!! She’s 6 months old – BIG DEAL!!! Stop and think – if every mother posted all that crap about their kid – I’m sure you’d get over it pretty quickly. We can’t wait for you to get back to work –  maybe you won’t have time to be on Facebook quite so much. Addy is gorgeous and we all love her, but our kids are great too. I guess you are just pissing a lot of people off with all your ‘Addy this and Addy that’ – we all thought it might ease off after the first month, but it hasn’t. Not everyone is as interested as you are about what Addy does so give us all a break. We’re doing this to let you know what people really think.”

It’s kind of funny, right? How awful people are? No, it’s not really funny I guess. But it kind of is. I mean, I understand the frustration of seeing repetitive photos of someone’s life. I think we all, secretly, have those frustrations. Like when someone is showing you pictures of their new baby/puppy/robot/niece/nephew/outfit or vacation pictures or wedding pictures or whatever. After the first picture it is wholly uninteresting. But the person showing you the pictures (who I would assume is a friend of yours), they are excited about it! And in polite society, we oooo and awwww and smile because we want to share each others joy, even if it is a little bit annoying. (Any fans of The Office out there? Remember the episode where Pam was trying to show Andy a picture of a possible new office location and he didn’t look at it but instead just said, “Oh my gosh she’s so cute she looks like both of you.” And Pam goes, “They’re not of Cece [her baby].” Laughing just thinking about it..)

I like to say that I’m honest with people, especially friends or family. I try to be. But I’ve realized at the ripe old age of 26, that there’s a fine line between honesty and just being an awful person. That’s why I get it now, why husbands/boyfriends are always saying “No, honey, you don’t look fat in those jeans.” Some things are just not worth hurting others over. I’m still learning this lesson, of course. I still say things that maybe I shouldn’t, but I’m learning.

Eventually, wifey or bae will realize that her butt looks terrible in those jeans. And she will secretly put them away (we all hope) and start to dress for her size. Eventually, that friend of yours will realize that even though their baby is super cute, to the public, he/she looks the same in every. single. picture. I have yet to meet a person who prides themselves on “telling it like it is” who is actually pleasant to be around.

On a separate note, I need hobby suggestions because it’s starting to get weird when people ask me “what do I like to do” and I have nothing interesting to say.

It’s Not Easy Being Green

Dear People Who Hate On Gwyneth Paltrow,

Let me start by saying you have every right. Her need to be one of us, the poor folk, the cool kids, is disconcerting. She keeps trying, and I know, we just want Gwyneth to stay in her lane. And her lane is beautiful! There are yachts in her lane, and spinning rims (that’s still cool right?) in her lane. But she keeps putting on her blinker and saying, hey, guys, let me over, I want to add my Rolls Royce to your poverty traffic jam.

She doesn’t want us to be fooled by the rocks that she’s got. She’s still Gwyneth from the burbs. Her latest stunt to make us realize that she gets it was a post on Twitter, showing the purchases she made from the grocery store with her “food stamp” money. She’s joined a hashtag challenge, because when you really want to understand a movement/cause/the struggle of millions, that’s what you do. This might’ve angered you. I read your comments, calling her out of touch and other words I can’t repeat on this family friendly blog.

But you guys. Listen. Remember how you felt when you got a 24 pack of crayons for the first day of school and your poor friends were stuck with the off brand twelve pack? Remember how their poverty stricken eyes looked at with loathing as you colored your pictures deep shades of Auburn while they used Red? Remember how alienated you felt because it was like, how could these, my dearest comrades in education, look down upon me because of my opulent wealth? Is it my fault that the gods smiled upon me and destined me for greatness? Don’t you remember how it felt to be better than everyone? And then have them hate you for it? 

That’s what it’s like, to be beautiful and famous. It’s alienating because while you have everyone telling you how great you are, there are those who still look upon you with contempt. Gwyneth just wants us to know that she knows what its like to have a 12 pack of off brand crayons. She tried it once, and while it was just awful, she gets it. Let her have this.



Lifetime Achievement Award For Bad Movies

I’m watching this Lifetime movie called “Kept Women”. I choose to see all Lifetime movies as comedies, as I do not believe they are made to be taken seriously. This movie is about a couple who moves to the suburbs and happens to move in next door to a guy who keeps women in his very well decorated, 1950’s themed basement. He believes in traditional values and has decided to kidnap women to help them escape away to a place (his really nice basement) where women do what they’re supposed to (cook, clean, listen to their husbands). He also kills them if they don’t do what he says, so I think that’s maybe a different interpretation of gender roles, but it’s Lifetime so…

I finally cooked today. Shoutout to all the stay-at-homes (mom or dad) who have to cook meals everyday for more than one person. Don’t know how you do it, but I salute you. I can barely get myself to decide what to make for meals, least of all do it. If I could just eat Chipotle and sandwiches everyday, you bet I would. But alas, those options are too expensive/unhealthy. So I made mashed potatoes that I actually boiled and mashed myself thank you very much. And green beans, the ones from the ground, not the can, thank you very much again please and thank you. Then I made rice because I still have lentils leftover so I won’t have to cook again for a few days which is music to my lazy ears.

Job update: I’m getting the hang of it! I’m feeling less confused and now I’m just determined to make improvements everyday. It’s nice to be challenged. Speaking of which, I finally went and got an access card to my apartment complex’s gym. I tried a new workout that my sister recommended and I almost died. Really. I was sure my organs were going to abandon my body and tell me to meet them at an ice cream shop. When I got back to my apartment, I opened the back door, collapsed on the floor and shouted “I hate working out!” to the clouds. But I’m probably going to do it again tomorrow.

Anyway, bye. Don’t lock anyone up in your basements.

This Blog Post Will Make You Worry About My Mental Stability. Don’t. (Maybe.)


Anyway, I had no idea there were women shaving off their hair as an empowerment thing. Youtube takes you through phases of the human experience in ways that interacting with real humans never could. So I’m sitting here, listening to some lovely piano music on Pandora, and I come across this YouTube video of this girl shaving her head. Which leads me to another video of a different girl shaving her head, but also giving reasons for why. She had a gorgeous head of hair. My hair got a little limp with hair envy. And the girl said that shaving her head was on her bucket list and that the reason she was doing it was because we as women place too much of our value in our hair.

I do not.. understand. Is liking my hair placing value on it? I love my hair, I love it more now since I stopped relaxing it. I would never shave my head because I’m certain that, for one thing, I would miss it terribly. I love reaching up and feeling it, it’s like a good friend that kind of feels like a pillow or a plush rug. I think my hair is a better person than I am.

Anyway, I’m not quite sure I understand the idea that shaving your head somehow proves you’re an empowered female. The girl seemed to think she had enough to offer to the world that she didn’t need hair to do it so, you know, more power to her.

Great news, I bought a toaster today. Not to sound all first-world, but toasting your bread in the oven on broil is both annoying and time consuming. I’m sure it will reflect on my electric bill whenever that comes. Yes, today was the shopping day I have so been looking forward to, and it was every bit as glorious as I had hoped it would be. I now have a strainer, a dish rack, dish towels, cleaning supplies and food. Glorious food. BY THE WAY, Adventists, you guys listen. Why on EARTH does a can of Swiss Steak with only FOUR pieces in it cost $6?! Let me tell you, there is a very warm place prepared for the people who price vegetarian meat. No, for everyone involved in pricing everything at health food stores. There is no reason I should have to make a six figure income to buy healthier food. (No vegetarian meat isn’t technically healthy, but do you know how much a small container of vegan sour cream is? Not cheap, that’s how much!)

Alright this has taken a turn. A beautiful piano rendition of Chim Chim Cher-ee just came on and I don’t want to ruin it. Oh, it’s actually a medley of all the Mary Poppins songs! It’s really beautiful. I wish I had a piano.


Dear Miss Pop Singer

I was gonna go work out (I still am eventually), but then I came across the song “Dear Future Husband” from the lady who is all about that bass. Have you heard this song? It’s very confusing. I think it’s an attempt at feminism or something, but it’s kind of all over the place at the same time. Also, why do people act as if marrying them is some sort of prize? Like, if you want to win me over here are a list of things you better do or you’re gonna miss out. What, do I get superpowers out of this deal?

Here are some of the lyrics I don’t quite get.

Take me on a date / I deserve it, babe 

What did you do to deserve it? You’re not a mother, not from what I know about you. Does he not work? Does he not deserve a chocolate fountain?

Cause if you’ll treat me right / I’ll be the perfect wife / Buying groceries / Buy-buying what you need

I know music isn’t supposed to be the perfect summary of life. It’s just a snippet. So maybe she’s right, the perfect wife buys groceries and cleaning supplies and 2 ply toilet paper. But then in the next verse she says …

You got that 9 to 5 / But baby so do I / So don’t be thinking I’ll be home and baking apple pies / I never learned to cook / But I can write a hook … 

Why are you buying the groceries, perfect wife, if you can’t cook?! Are apple pies the only thing you think husbands eat? And if you both work 9 to 5, why would he expect you to be at home making apple pies? And why would you be eating apple pies at 5 in the evening? Don’t know you know what a balanced meal looks like?!

The rest of the song are all the basic cliches.

1. Women are always right so don’t argue with them, just apologize.

2. Open my door, right now. 

3. Give me jewelry, else you don’t love me.

4. Even if I’m being completely irrational and unpleasant, treat me like a lady because I deserve it  simply for being a female. 

She never really mentions in the song what she’s offering, besides writing a killer hook (which always comes in handy in any meaningful relationship, like, say, if you’re life is a musical) and of course, buying groceries.

I know, I know, this is just a silly pop song. It’s not a speech to the UN. Yeah, okay, but there are 12 year olds singing along to this song and the concepts are being etched into their little brains. The truth is that being a girl doesn’t automatically mean you deserve respect. Being a decent person does. If you want to be treated with respect, then give it and let it be returned to you. If it isn’t, well that’s a whole different problem. And everyone is entitled to a break down every now and then, but don’t expect someone who claims to love you to not call you out on your crap. You should give more than you take.

Stop lying to the children Meghan. 

Four Score And So On And So Forth

So today I have been forced to turn 26, even though I could’ve sworn I turned 16 yesterday. I remember the year I turned 15, I told everyone not to wish me Happy Birthday, but instead wish me “Happy One Year Till You’re 16″ because I was childish and thought being 16 meant something. When I realized that turning 16 doesn’t automatically make a car and a driver’s license appear, I started counting down the days till I turned 18. Then I turned 18 and nothing changed much except I started college. I think 18 was the birthday I realized I’d better stop counting down and just enjoy birthdays as they come and go.

I am really grateful to have made it to twenty-six with all ten fingers and toes, my health and my hair. I’ve made a lot of grown-up decisions so far this year, and am finally at a place in my adulthood transition that isn’t so riddled with anxiety. AND all the lights were green on my way to Chipotle today so, I mean, what more could this humble soul ask for?

It’s strange/scary to think that I’ll be turning thirty in four years. Four years is not that long of a time. My little sister will be graduating from college in four years. A child born today or anytime this year will be able to hold a conversation in four years. Hilary will be finishing her first term as President in four years haha probably I don’t know maybe Fox News and their minions won’t let that happen. Anyway, my point is stuff happens in four year increments apparently. But for now I’m still basically in my mid-twenties and have a lot of life left to live and mistakes to make and ice cream to eat.

Yay! 26!