I’m also definitely a clomper, married to a chiller. We’ve found that hiking/outdoor vacations work best since you usually have to clomp to a lonesome spot to chill.

I once ordered a Bahama Mama (I was 21, get over it) at a chain restaurant. I received an Arnold Palmer. The waitress just assumed I was underage and got me another drink without checking id.

I start every conversation with tech support with “Yes, it’s plugged in/powered, yes all necessary cords are connected, yes I already tried unplugging it, waiting, and plugging it back in.” Never works. They always go ahead and ask those stupid questions.

Fellow Southerner here. I barely wear sundresses anymore. Where I’m at a sundress would make you overdressed everywhere but a wedding. Metro Atlanta makes me sad sometimes.

I was 12, in New Orleans, on the street in the French Quarter, with both my parents when my mother started going off on a guy. I hadn’t even noticed him before that. She said he was leering at me, but given her reaction it may have been more than that. I had never seen her do that before, and she’s never done it…

Except the state can’t force her to exercise her visitation or custody rights.

I suspect he’s going to milk that gravy train.

That is pretty much how that works. The only birth certificates I’ve seen with no mother listed were Jane Does who died during child birth and were never identified and children who were abandoned at a “safe harbor” location.

Wait, what? The only thing they can do find that she is legally the mother and order her to pay child support. What other things are they compelling her to do?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Should be part of season 2, if I remember correctly.

As someone who has actually read the books, I agree. I don’t understand how this character has become an example of feminism. The forced marriage was an absolute necessity to protect her from Randall, but she continues to do stupid shit, constantly getting into scrapes so he can save her. Everyone on the Jamie is a…

Then you are going to be super pissed later.

We call that rape.

This is why my grandmother gave me her engagement ring when I was a senior in high school. She knew that shit like that would happen and did her damnedest to give everything away before she died.

Maybe we’re just holding on to the cars our parents bought us longer.

Don’t get me started on her tutorial for how to roll up the sleeves on a button down shirt. That’s not how it works. It’s just not.

I was a 0. Now the regular clothing is hilariously large and the petite is so oddly proportioned. The shoulders are really narrow.

Last time I went into H&M I found a nautical themed line absolutely hidden in the back. I got a breton top in a surprisingly thick cotton. It’s white w/navy stripes, but the fabric is actually thick enough not to be see through. Of course, I’m terrified to wash it.

I still wear Ralph Lauren as well. Specifically long sleeve oxfords. The slim cut from the outlet. Sorry not sorry.