Tag: California

We Are Putting Too Much Responsibility On Our Kids

I have three kids. Most of you know this, if you are new to my blog …well now you know. Two are girls, aged 15 and 11. And my one boy is 2. My 15 year old has been gearing up to get her drivers permit this fall, and thinking

No Such Thing As Global Climate Change, MY ASS

We’ve been in the throws of a heatwave for three weeks now. It’s more like a heat tsunami. It’s basically hell. We live in hell now. The issue, actually, isn’t the heat or humidity – per se. It’s the fact that fucking no one in this town has air conditioning;

I’m Over Christmas

I took down our Christmas decorations on Christmas Day. I’m not even kidding, you guys. I did. Even before the grandparents were out the door, after watching the kids open an ungodly amount of gifts, I was taking shit down. I’ve just had it with the clutter and the dust

I’m Having An Art Exhibit, and You Should Come

Four years ago, I wrote a blog post about starting to paint again. It was really crazy, actually. I hadn’t painted or drawn or done anything artsy or craftsy in years. I mean I wasn’t even a Pinterest mom at that point. Blasphemy, I know. I literally wanted nothing to

Now That I Don’t Live In the Ghetto Anymore, What Will I Talk About?

Those of you that have been around here for a while know that I have a history of living in ghettos. It’s – of course – of no fault of my own. We’re renters, so there is always the gamble that comes with renting. The area could change over time.

Welcome To Texas, You’re Pregnant

I never thought I’d say this, but I miss California. I miss the way you can go outside and not break into a sweat from the sheer heat and humidity, that is both oppressive and shocking – given that it’s only the beginning of April. I miss our salads. Oh

I Like The Cold

People always look at me like I’m a complete moron when I tell them that I like the cold. As in cold outside, you know: snow, sleet, wind chill. I get jealous when I see that there are blizzards going on somewhere in the world. I live in California. Particularly,

7 Ways I Know I’m Married To A Californian

My husband was born and raised in California. I know, puke. He went to college in California. He works in California’s biggest industry. Except for a couple of family vacations and bro-rific Vegas trips (double puke), he’s hardly been anywhere else. On a daily basis, I am reminded just how

From California

I take it pretty offensively when people refer to me as “from California.” First and foremost, I don’t really like California. It’s nothing personal against anyone that does – I just don’t gel with it. Secondly, though, I’m just not from there. I’m from Chicago. Get over it. Just because

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