The Non-Negotiable Agreement of Pets

I’ve often said that I never trust a person who does not have compassion for animals. I’m not saying that you have to live with pets because for some folks, that is not realistic. Shelters and rescues are overflowing with animals that are the unfortunate victims of poor planning. Pets are time consuming, veterinary care is expensive, and in the end—no matter how you slice it—you will be left with a broken heart. However, when you do accept an animal into your heart and home, these are the non-negotiable terms of the arrangement. Pets are not disposable. They are not to be abandoned when things get difficult. They deserve to be properly cared for, loved, and protected. You are their advocate, provider, and world. In their eyes, you are everything so before you decide to share your life with a pet, think it through. If you can live up to your end of the agreement, you will be blessed with unconditional love; the likes of which I doubt many humans are capable. Read more…

Rage, Rude, and Retail. The Holiday Season

The holiday season is upon us. I know this because my neighbor decided to hang his Christmas lights at 7:50am, Thanksgiving morning. I grumbled, shared it on social media, resigned myself to the fact that I was getting up earlier than planned, and made coffee. Here’s the thing: I don’t get swept up in the holiday madness, and at the risk of sounding like a Grinch, what is it that makes otherwise seemingly-normal people go berserk during the holidays? Everyone goes into panic mode, which leads to road rage, parking frenzies, overspending, and hoarding way too much stuff. Read more…

Good Thing Charles Manson Isn’t Gay

Charles Manson is getting married. Yep, the 80-year-old who was convicted of conspiracy to commit murder has been granted a marriage license. The pending nuptials have become an easy target for jokes on social media but it also brings forth a serious question. Why, and how, is this acceptable when law-abiding, same-sex couples are still being denied the same rights? Where are the picketers? Where is the outrage against that which threatens the sanctity of marriage? Where the hell is the Westboro Baptist Church? Does the silence from the typically vocal contingents mean that this union fits the accepted definition of what constitutes marriage? Let’s break it down. Read more…

Winter: A Time To Celebrate Laziness

Summer is for beach lovers. It’s also a favorite of kids, who rejoice at the close of another school year along with teachers, and parents, who get a break from the madness. It’s all fun, sun, pools, and Instagram shots of toes in the sand. We even toss in a few holidays that offer extended weekends for good measure. Then comes fall with its crisp air, foliage, apple picking, and pumpkin mania. And of course we can’t forget Halloween with its massive candy haul, and consequent sugar coma. The weather is still quite mild, and there is enough daylight to ward off the threat of seasonal affective disorders. Spring brings birds chirping from the trees, blooming flowers, and the promise of warmer temperatures. It also marks the end of what has seemingly become the most loathed season of the year. Winter. Read more…

Banned Items and Childhood Disasters

This weekend oozed of awesomeness: kids in costumes, scary movie marathons, leftover candy, and an extra hour of sleep. Jackpot. In the spirit of turning back time, and staying true to my revisions that force me to revisit childhood memories, I thought I’d try a retro-themed writing exercise. Today I will share my most-memorable disasters that involve items that were banned by my father.

My father has never been one to hold back when he has an opinion. And regardless of his reasoning, once he handed down a ruling, there was no opportunity for a debate. Here’s some sample items that were inexplicably banned by my father: bubble gum, boat shoes, bacon, licorice, skateboards, boom boxes, and all musical instruments. However, my mother always gave my grandmother the green light, permitting us to have these things while under her care. This is an accusation she vehemently denies, even to this day. Read more…

Halloweenies 2014

Happy Halloween, friends. For those of you new to the blog, this may be your first time meeting the Halloweenies. Each year, Chip and Autumn endure 3-5 agonizing minutes so I can grab a few shots of them in costume. I’ll be honest: they hate it. They whine, burp, fart, try to rip the costumes off but mostly, they wait for treats. I promise you that this is the only time of the year when you will see my little cherubs in clothing of any kind. And yes, treats were shared generously, as promised, in return for their semi-cooperation. I hope you get a chuckle from our little session, and no animals were harmed during filming. Enjoy and have a safe, happy Halloween. Read more…

When Life Is Not A Beach

I live by the beach. Notice I did not say that I enjoy the beach, sit on the beach or Instagram pictures of my feet buried in the sand. No. My location is the result of an unfortunate situation fueled by an ill-fated plan concocted by, my parents. My father, who built the house, thought this would be the perfect spot for a first home. He never considered the fact that the house sits on a subdivided lot, which also means my neighbors are close enough to hear me break wind. I was ready to pack it in and move after the first year but, as usual, sheer laziness prevailed so here I sit. 18 years later, and still bitching. Read more…

Tattoo Nerd

Looks can be deceiving, and don’t let the tattoos fool you because I am a big, old nerd. I’ve been told that it appears I may have been recently paroled from women’s prison or have a sordid history involving heavy drug use. Both are simply, not true. Public reactions range from looks of shock and disgust to compliments, and questions about the artwork. My tattoo journey has been a long, slow, and sometimes painful road. However, I can honestly say: I have no regrets because each piece holds a unique place in my story. In this post, I’ve decided to share some details from my first tattoo experience. Hopefully, sharing my dumbassery will prevent others from making similar rookie mistakes. Read more…

Yes, I’m a Crappy Date

At the risk of sounding like a cranky, old battle-ax, I’ve decided to share the truth about why I am a terrible date. I use the term “date” loosely as my shortcomings are certainly applicable in a variety of interpersonal situations. Dating is simply where my actions tend to yield the most catastrophic results while also annihilating the possibility of future interactions. Allow me to explain.

Today is a beautiful autumn morning in the Northeast United States. The sun is shining, birds are singing, the temperature is a comfortable 55°F, and I’ve been invited to go pumpkin picking. Of course, my initial reaction is: why the hell should I traipse through a dirty pumpkin patch when I can snag a perfectly good pumpkin outside the grocery store? Forget the fact that it might actually be fun to step away from my computer, get some fresh air, and enjoy the company of others. Nope. I would rather talk myself out of it by grumbling about the dirt I’ll get all over my clothes and inevitably, track back inside the car. My mood worsens as I envision myself struggling to haul the oversized pumpkin across an open field without dropping it before I’ve paid for the damn thing. In my head, the day is a bust before I’ve even finished my morning coffee. Why? The truth is, I am without a doubt the biggest pain in the ass I know. Read more…

Please Press 1…

I hate wasting time. Correction: I can’t stand it when other people or absurd circumstances waste my time. As the self-proclaimed “Queen of Procrastination”, I have been known to waste significant blocks of time in the productivity department. I’m easily sucked into the black hole of YouTube, social media, and hanging out at the local coffee shop. Anything that distracts me from the task at hand will work. At the moment, there are a number of circumstances where my time is being held hostage but I’d like to focus on one particularly infuriating situation. My car. Read more…