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Monday, February 27, 2012

here's a fun, fate-tempting time-waster

I'm not much of a blogger these days, amiright?  Two more weeks, friends, just two more weeks.

In the meantime, here's a fun link for ya: THE MARRIAGE AND DIVORCE CALCULATOR!

You know how the divorce rate is 50%?  Well, as you may know, that percentage is based on all marriages, and second, third, fourth, etc. marriages all have a higher probability of ending in divorce than first marriages.  Factors like age and education at the time of marriage also affect the probability of a marriage ending in divorce. 

So if you have ten minutes today, and you're feeling adventurous, put in your stats, your character's stats, your snotty friend from high school's stats, and find out your/their/her likelihood of getting slapped with the big D in the next five years. 

You're either going to feel really bad or really good about yourself.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Monday, February 20, 2012

A conversation: End of the world edition

Person 1: If you were living in zombie apocalypse, and it was just you and Spence trapped in your house, and you ran out of food, would you eventually resort to eating Spence?

Me: No.

Person 1: Seriously? The alternative is starving to death.

Me: I know, but I wouldn't. I mean, Tom Hanks almost drowned for a volleyball, I'm not eating my dog.

Friday, February 17, 2012

This sums up the difference between Hannah and Diego:

After coming home from a date the other night, I found myself puzzled.  We'd had great conversation and a fun time on three different occasions, and yet ... I was pretty sure he was not that into me.

It's just a gut feeling you get sometimes, and mine are usually right.  Despite three hours of dazzling conversation (ok, fine, I probably shouldn't have talked so much about the capital gains tax, but in my defense HE WAS INTO IT), this was going absolutely nowhere.

As I laid on the rug in the living room, trying to figure out where I'd gone awry, I had a brilliant idea.  I looked up at Hannah and Diego on the couch, where they were watching New Girl.  "Hey!  Next time I have a good date lined up, will you guys go to the restaurant, pretend you're on a date, and secretly evaluate my behavior?"

Hannah: "Hell no."

Diego: "Absolutely! But you'll have to sign something beforehand agreeing to not be upset by any of my observations or conclusions."

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

terrible movies are good for something

I've never been into the Twilight movies.  (Shocking, I know.)  I saw the first two because the situations presented themselves -- it was all very passive voice.

But as I sorted through my Redbox options for tonight (a snuggly Valentine's evening with my puppy and some takeout), I couldn't stop pondering Breaking Dawn.

Really, if there were ever a movie to make me feel pretty good about being single again on Valentine's Day, it's a movie where a teen bride is rewarded for her virtue with a monster baby that eats its way out of her uterus.

I like my uterus just the way it is, thanks.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

wake up call

Remember that conference I went to way back when?

Today I got a phone call from one of the workshop leaders.

She asked me how my writing was going.

I said fine. (Lie.)

She asked me if it was a novel or memoir.

I said novel. (True.)

She asked me how far along I was.

I said I didn't know.  (Lie. I know. I'm caught somewhere between the beginning, which I am endlessly re-writing, and despair that I will never figure out what to do.)

(At this point the phone call means less, since she was trying to persuade me to sign up for another conference, and my Outlook Calendar and pocketbook can't handle that concept at the moment.)

But I kind of wanted to ask her if she wouldn't mind calling me back in six months.

Not that I really want to sign up for her workshop, but a regular dose of reality would be nice.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Doggie Daycare: It's A Thing

Because I am a working machine these days, Spence was feeling a bit neglected. I pondered my options as far as hiring a dog walker (they weren't good) and then concluded that I would sign Spence up for two days of dog daycare a week for the next 6 weeks.

So far, it's been a mixed bag.

Spence really likes it.

He comes home really smelly.

Spence really likes it.

But my formerly silent little friend, who never barked and rarely growled, seems to have discovered his voice, thanks to the bad influence of the other doggies at daycare.

(Am I the only one who thought of this when I wrote, "discovered his voice"?  No?)

Puppy, please don't grow up to be a Real Housewife.
 But the final plus in the Pro Doggie Daycare Column:

Yes, Spence comes home hyper as balls for an hour, stinking to high heaven and barking like a gangbuster, but then he crashes for the rest of the night, snuggled up next to my side while I work some more at home. (And watch The Bachelor.)  And he doesn't wake up again until it's time for his bedtime pee break, at which point he shuffles out the door, efficiently pees*, and immediately heads back to his bed.

So we'll take it.






* Was "efficiently" an unnecessary adverb in that sentence? If you've ever had a dog, you know that it wasn't.  

Sunday, February 5, 2012

My nominee for the dumbest argument ever

"As a free agent, it can do what it wants."

Invariably when you get into a tricky situation like the Susan G. Komen v. Planned Parenthood debacle last week, some really "smart" person will point out that the Susan G. Komen foundation is a "free agent," and "free agents" can do what they want.

I just want to know who out there is so stupid that they don't already understand that.

There is no need to talk down to people. I understand that Tyson and KFC and other chicken companies are "free agents," and they can stuff 20 chickens into a cage and throw chicks into dumpsters if they want. I also understand that I am a free agent (thanks for the heads up, political commentator, but I've understood that concept since the first grade) and I can choose to only buy free range meat if I want.

So when people yammer on about how Susan G. Komen is a "free agent," and other "free agents" can choose to support or not support them, I seriously have to wonder if that person just needed to fill airtime or column space.

Everyone understands that.

There is no one who does not understand that.

Can we please get a Universal Taboo Buzzer we can press whenever someone starts down the tired old "they're a free agent" line of thought?  OBJECTION, SILLY ARGUMENT.

In fact, because everyone understands that so acutely, and because of the power of social media, Susan G. Komen did a 170 (it wasn't quite a 180, I think we can all agree) on Friday and restored breast cancer screening funds to Planned Parenthood. Because breast cancer is still awful, even when a group that uses 3% of its time and resources to perform abortions is the group helping underprivileged women avoid it.

Because it's a free agent, and free agents can choose to fund breast cancer screenings (while giving their top executives $400,000 annual salaries) or not.  And free agents can choose to provide contraceptives, and advice on infertility, and STD screenings, and abortions, and referrals for mammograms (all in the same building!) if they want.

And free agents can choose to donate, or not, to the aforementioned groups.

Churches are free agents.

Companies are free agents.

Individuals are free agents.

Sports teams are free agents, and very often come courting other free agents.

Basically everyone is a free agent except a government entity

So from now on, whether we're talking about a theater banning a movie, or a chain restaurant supporting a political cause we disagree with, STOP POINTING OUT THAT IT'S A FREE AGENT. Because no one is sitting around thinking, "You know, here I am, all this time thinking I had personal control over PETA/the Catholic Church/The New York Times/the San Francisco 49ers--you mean to tell me that I don't?  What a world!"

Friday, February 3, 2012

materialism always helps

If things are going rough for you, as they are for me, I say take a page out of the Book of Materialism and shop out your woes. 

If you're half as lucky as I am, you'll end up with the coolest purse ever.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

rage

I try not to talk about legally things in my social media accounts, I have to say this:

Dishonest lawyers should rot in hell for giving the rest of us a bad name.

Lying and then claiming you did it in the "interest of your client" is not an acceptable ethics workaround. Either you're a lying sack or you aren't.

Let's try this in cross examination terms since you don't have a great concept of honesty in the abstract:

Isn't it true you said X?

Isn't it also true you then did Y?

Cased closed.  And may the record also reflect that opposing counsel is both the Mayor and Acting Deputy City Manager of Bitchville.

(I'm so glad I don't have to actually "litigate" in the traditional sense at my current job -- it would wreak havoc on my already-bordering-on-sailor vocabulary.)