Luna is back, my friends. She’s been back with me for a couple weeks now, and I’m still recovering from missing her.
Cars keep coming up at work and when I refer to my car as “she,” I always feel the need to explain so that I don’t sound nuts. And of course, as you can probably guess, I end up sounding even more nuts. How do I explain to people who don’t really know me yet that I find it completely appropriate to name (and often talk to) cars? (more…)
Thinspiration. Love your curves. Eat yourself skinny. You deserve an indulgence.
They’re everywhere–messages to women telling them what they should be or should do or should look like. Often perpetuated by other women.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be something better. I’m a big fan of being healthy, but staring at pictures of emaciated women? Not healthy, and certainly not practical.
On the flip side, I’m a big fan of loving yourself, of being comfortable in your own skin. But celebrating obesity isn’t healthy either. Love your curves, by all means, but don’t pretend your eating habits aren’t going to lead to diabetes or heart problems or joint problems. (more…)
Now, you may read that statement and hear excitement. It’s a logical conclusion. I love coffee.
The thing is, this is no ordinary coffeemaker. It’s more like a coffee machine. Single-cup brewing. When the screen flashes full sentences at you, it ceases to be an ordinary coffeemaker. And when it comes to me and technology, well . . .
I decided to do something smart. I asked for help. From a super sweet receptionist. It’s funny how putting on a suit and a cute pair of heels can make me bolder. Somehow I wasn’t afraid of looking like an idiot. Somehow I was okay with admitting my fear of breaking the beast of a coffee machine.
She showed me how to use it. And success. For three days, I made two cups a day without incident.