My great-grandmother’s doll has one and the scissors...can actually cut! The workmanship it takes to make such tiny things accurate is amazing.

You can still get them at upper class boutiques and dressmakers.

If you haven’t seen Netflix’s “The Toys That Made Us”, the episode on Barbie is excellent.

I vaguely recall that dress shields were a real thing, in the 60s I guess. I can’t imagine actually wearing them.

Looking back, what’s funny to me is that after the Big Rescue, the boys and girls would get married and have babies. Then I’d kind of look at my dolls and say, “Well, there’s nothing left for them to do now. Time to start another adventure!”

holy shit, that tiny sewing kit.

When my husband and I got engaged, I was living with a roommate. To save money for the wedding, rather than re-upping my lease, I moved back into my childhood home. This meant my parents and grandparents (who lived there) were always keeping an eye out to be sure we weren’t fornicating.

So, being creative, young…

I was super-duper worried that he’d get asked a tough question, and then he’d be like, really uncomfortable and stuff.

It’s so cool how the New York Times bends over backwards to give a platform and voice to people who want me dead because of the color of my skin.

Glad to hear it because THAT is frightening.

You posted this story last year. I remember writing to you asking if you apologized to the building/man.

Ok, here goes. Writing this out makes me want to barf. 

Around five years ago, I was a TA for an undergraduate literature course that had 300 students; there were two TAs and our job was mostly to do grading (sigh) and hand out exams and set up PowerPoints and stuff of that nature. Basically, assist the professor in all manner of tedium while she lectured. Due to a…

As someone who worked in Japan as an ALT, OH MY GOD but also PLEASE GIVE ME A TOILET

This story isn’t supernatural but it’s 100% true and probably the closest I’ve (knowingly) come to being in serious trouble.

A couple of months ago, my boyfriend and I were walking back to our house from an event at a local hipstery bar in our neighborhood in Indianapolis. Ours is the poster child for hipster neighborhoods. I always feel very safe being out and about, even if I’m alone.

I’ve been waiting on this! Yay!

This was almost 30 years ago. Times flies. My husband and I were newlyweds and bought our first home in St Paul, MN. Big old Victorian monstrosity in a depressed area, which is what we could afford.

When I was younger, I used to go camping in the mountains a great deal with my Boy Scout troop. There was a particular camp site we’d go to, close to a river, with the only bathroom being a one-room, one-person toilet up the hill that stank worse than any porta-potty I’ve ever been in in my life.

It’s 1995, I’m 12 years old and it’s the year McDonald’s is selling commemorative glass mugs of the highly successful, highly praised, masterpiece of a film, Batman Forever. I was excited to own one of these mugs and my mom got me the Two-Face one.