You have it too good. You have too much. Look in a mirror and yell at yourself with your eyes. Save your breath for talking to your things. Continue reading
I’ve witnessed childbirth three different ways. I’ve been to two baby showers. I’ve attended a blogging convention where I was one of four men. I thought I had seen women at their most womenish. But none of those experiences prepared me for the master class that was the DEMONSTRATION. Continue reading
I got to talking to Kirsten one day. Before a meeting. Or after. Or maybe it was during the meeting. I don’t have the steadiest of attention spans. I do remember that we didn’t reserve the conference room just so I could unload some personal issues, but that’s what ended up happening. Continue reading
This post goes too far. A superior edit of it first appeared on In The Powder Room and being a little bit removed provided some cover. But now I’m including it on this blog and it may be too much for those who know me.
In fact, if you’re: my mom, my mother-in-law, Kirsten, Cristina, anyone who works with me, Brian, Jennie, Maggie, Claudio, anyone I’ve ever gone to school with, anyone who is friends with me on Facebook, residents of Chicago and Indiana and the United States, English speakers, and non-English speakers, then you must skip this post. Here, read about the time I stole some doughnuts.
To anyone who is still cleared to read: just promise me we will never meet in real life after you’re done reading. Because I won’t be able to make eye contact.