I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving
I Write To Understand. I Write To Stop Time
There are two kinds of people in this world: cat people and dog people. That’s what it boils down to. And I, friends, am a dog person. I was looking over some favorite puppy pins on Pinterest before coming back to wordpress.
Am I the only one who narrates what dogs do? As though I can really read their minds? I don’t think so.
Continue reading “Seven Exercises to Read Your Dog’s Thoughts”
Language is an ever evolving tool of connection between humans, and making up new words is fun. I even see this happen among my homeless clients, work which normally has lot of frustrations, heartbreaks and disappointments. But the wordsmithing efforts offset the difficulties. Continue reading “Ever Make Up Your Own Words?”
I may really just be a 13 year old boy inside, but when I see a name that begins with any random letter and ends with “_enis,” I giggle a little bit inside.
Like many women, I get shit on the street. I get harassed and leered at, and it makes me uncomfortable. It’s quite disempowering, because I don’t want that attention, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I hate it. Sometimes it happens among my clients at work, a homeless day program where I have a little more leverage and can tell people to knock it off. On the street, I have to be a little more…. careful.
I was going to write an open letter to street oglers, things that I wish I could say to them. But there’s nothing I could say that they would hear. There are only things I can do right in that minute. Things that would not be aggressive or even perceived as aggressive. (‘Cause that can lead to threats.)
So I took to Google, hoping I would find some suggestions, and curated some favorites from here and here. I would love your opinions on them.
Continue reading “No Hollaback Girl Here- 11 Tips for Fighting Street Harassers”
I have never forgiven my mother for this:
When I was in junior high, we went to church with a man who worked at one of the large event venues in downtown St. Louis. One year, I think in seventh grade, so 1991, my mother woke me up before school…
****wavy going-back-in-time window***
“Hey Sarie! You know Bill and how he works for the stadium? Well, he’s pulled some strings for us to go to the New Kids on the Block concert coming up.”
Inspired by another blog post that appeared in my reader, (and PSA, you should get tested to see if you’re a feminist – they gave us a sure-fire way to determine that HERE.), I was reminded of a meme that helps us understand Feminism and it’s sister, Feminazi:
Except it isn’t. At all.
My supervisor, I mean, my direct just-above-me supervisor, has many positive qualities. In many ways, he has been a breath of fresh air. He gave me more direction and positive feedback than any of his predecessors.
However.
This prompt is good – questions. It may be flagrant self-obsession, but I think it’s interesting and I’ll try to make it enjoyable for readers.
I love words and I love to play with them, so I don’t really have any particular favorite. Perhaps the word “Yes” to certain questions such as “Am I going to Spain?” Yes. “Will I be in Jamaica for two weeks?” Yes. “May I have a Bloody Mary?” Yes. “Will you publish my research?” Yes. “A raise?” Yes. “Go kayaking or stand up paddleboarding?” Yes.
This really happened, and it was funny.
My fiance were and I were relaxing at our favorite cigar bar downtown, sitting on the super plush seats in the front window. A group of guys came into the bar and sat on the couch across from us. One of the guys was clearly the designated drunk and was still in a happy mode of drunk, talking to everyone. They were firefighters from Queens, members of the first fire academy graduating class after 9/11. They came to town for a hockey game, and were gonna rush back to New York the next morning.
We started talking about their time in our city, comparing things we enjoy about our respective homes, and then they asked about our professions. Right when I told them I’m a drug and alcohol counselor, the Designated Drunk looked at his friends, horrified, and said, “This isn’t an intervention, is it?”
Today’s Daily Prompt challenged writers to come up with a tagline to describe them, and I like this one – it makes me giggle to think of.
There’s no kill switch on awesome.
Not as bad as everyone thinks. (Several of my clients, homeless addicts, actually say this to me. And if homeless men think I’m tough, I’m okay with that.)
I’m not your handler.
This is why we can’t have nice things.
Just because they serve you doesn’t meant they like you.
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 
