saltyladysotherburner
saltyladysotherburner
saltyladysotherburner

That and it appears that only people with perfect boobs are allowed to do it— big but not too big, no sag, etc. I could imagine breast cancer survivors being like, fuck that bitch, mine weren’t ever that good even when I had them. She can go fuck herself right in the boob.

Question- what about that 39 mile walk? Some friends of mine did that, and I dunno, it got kind of self-aggrandizing and obnoxious. It makes it all about them, you know? All about their training walks for months leading up to it, all about their camping plans, their blisters, how they felt. I opted out because I

Totally. That kid is going to have a messy poop in a minute or two, and I’d want to be prepared.

I feel bad sometimes because on the weekends I’m jeans and tshirt, or else workout clothes, 99% of the time. I usually look ok— it’s a decent tshirt and jeans and somewhat stylish, just very casual. But there are always people who look like they really dressed up and put thought into their hair and makeup.

Wasn’t that part of their thing though— if you can wear yoga pants to the grocery store, you can wear jeans, a blouse, a blazer and cute flats! Um no because I don’t want to wear business casual 18 hours a day.

Also, the portion size thing. People love places where they can eat themselves into oblivion AND take home enough for three meals.

No clue. What I do know is we have one in our LA suburb and no one I know has been to it. I assume they have customers because otherwise it would have shut down by now. People are driving to the next town over to go there? When there are tons of perfectly good Italian restaurants— that take reservations and don’t

That is so interesting. I don’t think it’s completely what my mom has going on, but her and my dad both have something similar. Maybe more just decreased interest in what the other person has to say, but not rambling as in stream of consciousness. I actually think my mom knows she shouldn’t do it— she’ll say, oh I

Yes to lox, and salmon sushi and sashimi. Cooked regular salmon, I could take or leave.

I was kidding. I was pretty sure it wasn’t for the idle rich!

I would be worried some dipshit relative or even a drunk friend will be like, you guys! You have to have a first dance, now go up there! It was all so weird, and my poor dad, the man had never danced in his life. He liked it though, they had a really good time. Unlike my uptight robot of a MIL who was like, thank god

I refused to wear a veil over my face, and I wouldn’t do that Jewish thing where you circle the guy seven times or something. I can’t remember what I read about it, but it wasn’t my thing. Also declined our (female) rabbi’s suggestion that I visit the mikvah beforehand. More power to anyone who’s into that, but I’m

I have the world’s most laid back parents when it comes to weddings, they literally didn’t even know what all is supposed to go into a wedding, but when we told them we decided to switch from waiter served entrees to stations (it was big in the late 90s/early 00s and it really was better food), they flipped their shit

So totally agree with you. The dances are going to be hard to get out of. What might help is to come up with an alternate plan that the DJ (or someone) announces- like everyone dances, or the whole family, whatever. Assuming there’s dancing at all. I could have done without any goddamn dancing.

Just butting in here to say that Mr. Salty and I constantly talk about how we should have had a small destination wedding instead of our 130 person local one complete with random ass friends from college and my mother in law’s stupid friends and third cousins thrice removed. We should have had our two sets of parents,

Do you think maybe your busyness just makes her feel bad about herself? I think my mom is constantly feeling inadequate and probably judged. Which she is— I can’t help it, I don’t respect her. I never have. She was like this when I was a child and she was in her 20s and 30s. What’s worse is I was an only child, so I

My mom is a little like this. I actually do think she cares about us in general, but not on a micro level if that makes sense. She gets really bored when I talk to her about issues I’m having with the kids, like big stuff. She barely responds, she’s let me talk for a bit, and then be like, well, I gotta go . . .

I think it means you always come back. As a working mom, I felt it was important to have a really regular routine, and have consistent caretakers (i.e., same nanny for as long as possible). So I always came home at 5 or whatever— I was part time— and we kept it mellow at home with just the family. Things that would be

I’ve always worked and my kids are fine— we’ve had nannies, afterschool sitters, and the afterschool program for a couple years in the middle. They actually seem to function a little better than the kids with SAHMs who are treated like precious hothouse orchids.

Seriously, would it kill them to at least schedule stuff first thing in the morning so you could miss only part of the day? And for fuck’s sake, don’t email me about needing a special volunteer on Tuesday from 11:20-11:45. Somehow my elementary school managed without an army of moms running math center, cutting and