Even back in the 90's/early 00's when I worked in the city (and lived there very briefly before fleeing back to the far less stressful East Bay), dating as a hetero woman was tough because there were so few available hetero men and they were super picky. Being in tech South of Market wasn’t cool yet so the finance…

I went with some friends to a park meet a fostered hound/rotty mix that had been found wandering the streets of LA and he was terrific, so the agency came to their house the next day to make sure they were “ready to take care of a dog,” even though they’d had two other large dogs for years who had both died, one a 15…

So a couple of years ago I’m at a trade show with an Australian client in San Antonio and at breakfast in the hotel buffet the guy asks if he can have a soft boiled egg. 15 minutes later they bring him a little bowl of three eggs in their shells. Client gets a pained look and asks if he can have an egg cup, please? A…

Pratt really doesn’t seem very bright. For years I only knew of Hillsong as a bunch of especially mediocre worship singers from Australia, but the way they’ve taken hold in the US and attracted so many gullible celebrities is insidious and frightening. Just more prosperity gospel with better production values and…

I was reminded while watching the AO men’s final with Rafa’s moans of anguish and Djokovic’s sparing grunts why I largely stopped watching tennis in the aughts during Peak Shriek.

Brow shaping and ice cream consumption should not happen anywhere near each other.

This is true. I had to give my dear departed Isis a thyroid pill once a day and only needed about a third of the pill pocket to encase it.

The way he moves and the hand motions during these post-match interviews are extremely unsettling, even without the strange questions and longwinded fawning.

If this tennis thing doesn’t work out, he has a bright future in video editing.

I’ve handled a few “names” in my line of work and have noticed a phenomenon where people become so used to everyone around hanging on their every word that they start making declarations to the room instead of holding actual conversations. It’s so weird to watch.

John, go find one of those gift card exchange kiosks at the grocery store and turn ‘em in for cash.

Mini Eggs are the best part of Easter.

With that tiny packet of powdered “creamer” you have to stir with a f’ing swizzle stick so it never really dissolves. Nasty.

What time should I come by? Might even put on some clean sweatpants!

This. And bake up a delicious galette des rois to reward yourself once everything is packed away. (Although my tiny tree is so very dry already I may have to take it down this weekend.)

My high school English teacher put up an ironic aluminum tree in his classroom every year. It was right by my desk so I had to be careful if I leaned back not to get stabbed by a branch.

Totally. They will find my dead body half eaten by my cat, wrapped in a blankie next to an empty wine glass and a Bath and Body Works Pumpkin Patch candle burned down to the bottom, and I will have died happy, goddamnit.

In seeking out comfort reads this year I rediscovered SFF and am thrilled that so many women, especially women of color, are knocking it out of the park. Three of my favorites were The Fifth Season by NK Jemisin (yeah, I know—late to the party), Witchmark by CL Polk, and The Calculating Stars by Mary Robinette Kowal.

I just kind of assumed it was one of those groups that rotates in different people as needed, like Menudo.

Cornell’s bird lab is a good place to start!