Heather Christena Schmidt

Mom, first * Writer, second * Misanthrope, always

Ugh. I am so sick and tired of people and their popular shit to be upset about on the Internet. Like really. As many of you know, Halloween was just a couple of days ago. I, personally, had a great Halloween. As in, I didn’t do shit. My kids dressed up in their annual themed …

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I haven’t had much time to write for the last few months. I’ve written, just not on my blog. Still, I hadn’t realized how long it’s been since I checked in with you guys until a couple weeks ago. My daughter was playing a for-fun tennis match with a friend, and the friend’s dad asked …

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There’s been a refreshing and, simultaneously, not-so-refreshing trend this last week or two on the Internet, and that is that people have stopped talking about the demise of American society ¬†and values as we knew them pre-Trump, and moved back to the ol’ getting offended at everything on the Internet. I say it’s refreshing because …

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For two weeks, now, I’ve had a shocking revelation rise to the surface of my brain at least once a day. I mean I’ll just be going about my business when suddenly it hits and I’m like OH MY GOD THIS IS REAL. Just now, I had it again. I was wrapping Christmas gifts, getting …

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For some reason, I open myself to a lot of criticism from the people in my life. I’m not entirely sure how it got to that point. Maybe I overshare, as in I tell people way more information than they need. Or possibly I have let people believe that I’ll take it. (I think it’s …

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My husband works in film. Well, sort of. He works for a multimedia marketing firm that makes trailers, sizzles, and other promotional materials for upcoming movies (including those dumb, digital billboards you see at the mall). He’s in the Disney division, so basically Disney movies have been forever ruined for us – not that he’s …

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And even then, it nearly killed me. I don’t mean that it was dangerous or wracked with mishap that could have severed my head or anything. I mean I hated doing it so much, I could have died. I literally could have died. Literally. Not figuratively, like a spiritual death. I mean laid down on …

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