[This post was originally published by Thought Catalog at www.thoughtcatalog.com on June 2, 2015. To see the post in all of its Thought Catalog-y Glory, you can click here. Or just read on…]
Apparently, I am going to have a baby soon. No, this is not my “I’m knocked up!” announcement. If I was actually pregnant, I would obviously post something on Facebook so that you’d be the first to know.
A majority of my ideas regarding getting pregnant, being pregnant and having a baby are whispered to my husband with the preface, “Do Not Tell Anyone That I Feel This Way.”
Yet, here I am Telling Everyone That I Feel This Way.
[This post was originally published by Thought Catalog at www.thoughtcatalog.com on May 13, 2015. To see the post in all of its Thought Catalog-y Glory, you can click here. Or just read on…]
Your dog walks faster and starts to circle. You know what’s next. He looks straight ahead, concentrates on his task. Sensing your own unfixed, awkward eyes, you wonder, where am I supposed to look while this is happening? You must decide, so choose wisely.
I was perusing books about Pilates at my local library when one of the librarians shuffled over in her clogs to see if I wanted help. (Yes, people still go to the library. I like silence and books, so I am one of those people.)
I gestured to the open book in my lap, said no with an obligatory smile and noticed her nametag. Flexi.
She lingered and asked, “How long have you been doing Pilates?”
“Four or five years.”I willed Flexi away with my mind. No luck.
“You’re probably at risk for Orthiodosis, then.”
My brain scanned through a repertoire of Pilates postural alignment vocabulary: Lordosis. Kyphosis. Scoliosos. Orthiodosis? She saw my question mark and explained.
[This post was originally published by Thought Catalog at www.thoughtcatalog.com on March 23, 2015. To see the post in all of its Thought Catalog-y Glory, you can click here. Or just read on…]
I am consistently appalled when seeing someone on their phone instead of interacting with the person next to them or enjoying the scenery. Apparently, you are allowed to stare at your phone while you are out to dinner. This is socially acceptable now. Fine.
There are some spaces that should remain sacred. These should be the cell-phone-free corners of the world, places where it is always inappropriate, unnecessary, pointless to be looking at, talking on, texting with or even holding a phone.
My car groans as I turn into an empty and winding drive-through around 8:30 on a Wednesday night. An amiable, male voice filters through the speaker.
“Welcome to Starbucks. How may I help you?”
“Can I have one Sausage Breakfast Sandwich, please?”
“Let me check if we have any left.”
I wait some seconds, considering my coffee order. The speaker clicks.
“Do you want one or do you want nine? We have nine sandwiches left. You can have them all.”
His playful question with a serious tone made me laugh with my dorkiest of laughs. Mouth open, teeth showing, nose scrunched kind of dorkiness. A regularly programmed thought snapped to attention: He is funny slash nice. I wonder what he looks like. I hope he heard a smile as I lean towards the speaker.
[This post was originally published by Thought Catalog at www.thoughtcatalog.com on February 26, 2015. To see the post in all of its Thought Catalog-y Glory, you can click here. Or just read on…]
Dear Low-Rise Jeans,
A few weeks before my 29th birthday, I was asked to turn to page 29 of the nearest book and use the content to write a blog post. Amy Poehler’s Yes Please just happened to be sitting next to me. Page 29 just happened to be about the different kinds of pants that were popular in the eighties.
The use of italics here is purely ironic, my love handle extenuating friend. None of this just happened. It is fate. As is this letter to you.
Forget the Grammy’s. You are now eligible for a superior accolade: being included on The Most Important Songs of Miss Early Bird’s Life. With so many contenders and so few spots, choosing a few of you has been an emotionally draining task. Before revealing the results and in hopes of sparing any hurt feelings or controversy among you, I’d like to provide background regarding the selection process for Songs.
No more driving! An accident on I-94 will not make you late. After a stressful day at work, accidents and oncoming traffic will not faze you. You will not miss sitting in your car for 44 minutes each day.
Flexible shower schedule! Wake up and throw your hair in ponytail. No mirror necessary. You can take that shower over lunch or after your eight-to-five. Do not accept video conference calls. For the extra suspicious, cover the computer camera with a Post-It.
You may recommend that I get a psychiatric evaluation after reading this blog post. Go ahead. Whatever.
You see, I’ve been running a lot lately. While my body has been adjusting nicely as the mileage increases, I’ve noticed a peculiar change in my mind. Maybe too much jostling from running on pavement—I don’t know.
The clearest way to capture my brain’s inner workings, dear reader, is to tell you: There are voices inside of my head. I must assign them with a name and describe their personality so you may have a glimpse of understanding. Admittedly, there are two characters that jump into my mind when I press start on my sweet GPS watch and (um…) they are from the cast of Big Brother 16.
When I was little, my grandmother put on this very serious face and said “Alison, you never speak ill of the dead.” Her grave demeanor scared my youngish imagination into full force, with ghosts haunting and zombies strangling me if I said anything “ill” of them. As it turns out, my Angel-of-a-Grandmother passed down her credence to some folks in the media too.