My husband signed the checks, helped choose the venue, caterer, and DJ (all done within the first month of our engagement). He even made about a dozen fabric flowers. But the bulk of wedding planning he happily left to my Pinterest-loving self. He was fine with that.

All I could think is ‘what a fucking asshole’. The woman managed to survive cancer and he used that knowledge to try to force her into a relationship by ‘celebrating’ this achievement. A celebration that was painfully uncomfortable and clearly not wanted then actually had the nerve to be upset that she didn’t…

The story about the cancer-free anniversary “date” is one of the most pathetic things I’ve ever read. That’s some Ralph Wiggum/Lisa Simpson shit right there.

He kept them for his Meninist site.

My BFF had planned to toss hers, but she was having so much fun dancing & drinking that she actually just forgot. Now that’s a wedding.

We both WEPT, as we knew we would, and it was one of the reasons we arranged to marry in a completely private ceremony (with only the officiant, and photogs there as witnesses). We both had hankies in hand bc we knew it would be a weepy mess. Miraculously my makeup survived (one of the main reasons I got lash…

Yeah, I was so uncomfortable being stared at that I don’t even remember the ceremony, except for the moment when he was repeating his vows back and I was like “ohhh shit was I supposed to take my ring off? Is it goofy to have the engagement ring on first? What order do the rings go on???” and moved it to my other hand…

Ha! I actually have a funny story about this.

I teared up and cried a bit. My husband, however, ugly-sobbed his way through it. It was amazing.

I did not cry. I did, however, start to have one hell of a panic attack once it was time for me to walk down the aisle. As I started to wheeze and get dizzy, my father (who was walking me down the aisle) looked at me and just grinned.

Right? How about we just teach kids to not freak the fuck out about sexuality, and eventually, no one will care about which bathroom everyone is using.

Also from the AFA’s dumbass petition:

“COFFEE.”
“Right, so one the size of your penis coming right up, sir.” *rings up for a small*
..........

My little brother and I talked about opening a coffee shop just so we could come up with our coffee sizes. Decaf would not be an option. Starting at 12 oz (that’s right, the smallest cup we would sell is 12 oz, man up buttercup) and increasing in 4 oz increments:

I have enough joy in my life that I don’t complain about the dryness of drive-thru espresso drinks.

I worked at a Portuguese bakery and coffee shop for 8 years. It was an easy gig: lots of pastry and bread, sandwiches and soups at lunch and dinner. This one summer afternoon during the drive-thru lunch rush, a man pulls to the speaker to order 3 or 4 (I can’t remember the exact multiple) turkey sandwiches. Of course…

“how am i supposed to eat my french fries?”

No. If he tries to stand up for the new guy—a guy he doesn’t even know—suddenly he’s going to be the one to get shit on. He doesn’t have any power in this scenario; he’s not a manager, he’s a low-rung employee barely above the guy who’s just been hired. Additionally, you don’t know how badly he needs the money that…

A few weeks ago, my 17 year old son broke up with his girlfriend because “she couldn’t find China on a map. And I just can’t be with that, mom.”

This is awesome. Rock on, ladies. Whether you’re working outside the home because you want to or you have to, it’s extremely validating to hear that all of the struggles and sacrifices can also lead to a more equal future for your kids.