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Nov 4, 2015

Introducing Romper!

You may have noticed that I don't write much on the blog anymore, and if you follow me on Facebook or Twitter (please do), you've probably seen me sharing some articles I wrote for Bustle recently. Remember when I said I had big news coming soon? Well, it's here!

That work on Bustle was actually just training for my real new job as a news and features writer at Romper. Just launched on Monday, Romper is brought to you by the same people as Bustle. It's a site for cool moms.

I'm super excited to be with them for their launch, and I hope you'll follow me there to see me investigate important issues like if Lincoln was a chill dad, whether Adele ripped off Tom Waits, and all the household chores I want Jeb Bush to do for me. See you there!

Sep 8, 2015

A Story of Squirrels and Pumpkins

Yes, I'm alive. No, I didn't forget that I have a blog. I've just been concentrating on writing things for people who actually pay me. Unfortunately, I don't have a lot to show you yet. I'm still writing for NickMom, and sometimes I say interesting things on Facebook, so I hope you're keeping up with those. And soon, I'll have a lot more to share with you. Just give me a month or so.

In the mean time, I have a story that's a little too long for Facebook, and although it's cute, I'm unable to think of anyone who would pay me to write it. And that, I suppose, is what a blog is for. So now, for the first time in seven months, please enjoy a blog post.

I love squirrels. I'm unsure if I've been vocal about that subject, but there it is. I've always enjoyed a good relationship with the squirrels in my neighborhood. I give them bread end-slices and fruit that's a little too old for my taste. When they find food elsewhere, they still eat on my deck. Have you even seen a squirrel lug a nectarine across a yard and up some stairs? I swear, it happens. 

Other than entertainment, though, the neighborhood squirrels hadn't really done much for me, and I felt that our relationship wasn't as symbiotic as it could be. So when I heard about squirrel pumpkin carving, I knew I had to try it. How it works: scoop out a pumpkin. Score a jack-o-lantern face into it, but do not cut through all the way. Spread peanut butter on the cuts, and leave it for the squirrels. Supposedly, they will chew their way through the score lines and "carve" the pumpkin for you.

It didn't work.

But I still loved my squirrel friends, so when Halloween came and went, I left the ten or so small pumpkins that lined my deck railing for them to nibble on. It was fun watching them knock them down and roll them around. 


Eventually, they'd dragged them all underneath the deck, and I forgot about it until springtime, when the snow melted and I had a few seeds to clean up. It was a lot easier than hauling all those pumpkins to the trash can.

So now it's late summer, and the other day, my husband mentioned that the bushes in front of the deck needed to be trimmed. So looked down...

Yup. The squirrels planted more pumpkins for me to say thank you. How they managed to grow through bushes, halfway under a deck, I don't know. I'm not much of a gardener. But I just wanted to share with you that squirrels are awesome neighbors, and if you treat them well, they will show their gratitude.

Feb 5, 2015

I'm so glad a celebrity didn't crash my wedding.

Can we talk about the weird trend of celebrities crashing weddings lately? Every few weeks, a new picture pops up of a happy couple in their gown and tux, posing with some asshat actor in a t-shirt, and I’m kind of over it. All I’m saying is, Hollywood is damned lucky that this wasn’t a thing in 2005, because I would have been a terrible bride to spring this on. Let’s explore what my reaction would have been if these actual celebrity wedding crashers had wandered into the middle of my special, special day uninvited.

Maroon 5- Nobody fell for this hoax video for a second because, obviously no one would be happy about Maroon 5 crashing their wedding. I’ve heard of DJs getting fired for even suggesting a Maroon 5 song.

Bill Murray- This would have started my marriage off on a really bad foot. My husband probably would have fawned all over him, calling him a legend and talking about how much he loved Rushmore, and I’d be all, "Pssht, Rushmore was Wes Anderson’s worst movie. Let’s talk about Ghostbusters 2, and all the ways that it was vastly superior to the original."

Robert Pattinson- Nobody’s allowed to sparkle more than the bride. Inappropriate.

Jan 21, 2015

I'm Going to Be Inspirational Now, Sorry.

I'm sorry I haven't been around on the blog much lately. I've been busy achieving my dreams.

Sorry. I'm not trying to get all Oprah on you. Let me back up.

A little over three years ago, I was a bored stay-at-home mom, so I started this blog. If you're a fellow blogger, you're probably nodding your head right now. I didn't know what I wanted out of it; I just knew that I liked to write, and I liked to entertain people.

Over the years, it grew from a mildly humorous look into my life that only a handful of friends ever read, to a pretty decent low-to-mid-level blog. I liked reaching strangers with my humor. I loved the idea of people who'd never met me, somewhere out there, smiling at their screens because of me.

But I wanted to get paid. And not twelve cents a month for Google ads. And not a few bucks here and there for sponsored posts. So I pestered Leslie from In the Powder Room until she gave me a job.

But I wanted to get paid even more. I wanted to make enough money to keep me rolling in tattoos and expensive mud masks from Sephora. So I pestered NickMom until they hired me.

But still... What did I want to do, really? Well, I love to write, I love to entertain. We've established that. But I also love TV and magazines. I wanted to write about TV for magazines! But I'm just a schlub on the internet with no education. I couldn't just walk into the Entertainment Weekly offices and demand a job because I really, really wanted it.

So I pestered the editors of EW Community to let me write for them. Step one. And I toiled away, writing recaps for Ground Floor, staying up way too late on Tuesday nights, because I love writing, and I love entertaining, and I love TV.

But I wanted more readers! So I started tweeting my recaps to the star of Ground Floor, John. C. McGinley. You may know him as Dr. Cox from Scrubs, or Bob Slydell from Office Space. And he tweeted back! And he retweeted me! And then...

One day, my EW Community editor emailed me:

Yeah. I pretty much just paced around my house saying "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," for ten minutes. Then I called my husband at work (which I thought was rude, although warranted- and he was fine with it). Then I texted my best friend, who loves EW as much as I do:

Then I freaked out for the next week and a half, until John C. McGinley freakin' called me (and introduced himself as Johnny). Then I worked my ass off on the interview for 24 hours, with a small break for sleep. And now, here it is, ready for you to enjoy: Let John C. McGinley convince you to watch 'Ground Floor'

So my point is, you can do it. I don't care if you're some uneducated nobody who doesn't know what they want to do with their life at age thirty-mumble. Take a little time, figure it out, and then go do it. Because I am absolutely the laziest person I know, and if I can do it, I'm sure you can, too.

Expect to see me in print by... Oh, say 2017. And I'm really going to try to blog more, I swear. Sorry about that.

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Dec 19, 2014

The Worst Thing About December

I hate December. It's not just the weather, or the holidays being shoved in my face, or going into debt because of said holidays. Those are all factors, sure, but what really takes the cake is the lack of TV. Every damn show goes on hiatus, and we're forced to watch the same five Christmas specials over and over, or worse, make conversation. Blech.

Until Netflix! This year, my husband and I have finally decided to buckle down and catch up on Mad Men. We tried a couple times before, but never really got into it. I'm proud to say we're now on season three, and I really feel like we're going to pull through this time. Although, can I just say, this is basically every episode of Mad Men:

Me: "She's pretty."
Husband: "Yeah."
Me: "Don's gonna bang her, isn't he?"
Husband: "Yup."
Me: "God damn it, Don!"

I get it, Don, you're damaged. But didn't they have shrinks in the 1960s? I mean, come on.