Letter to some pretty neat male human beings

Today I'm putting aside my casual hatred of men to make a post about the ones I appreciate. I'm thankful for the dudes who make my life a little bit cooler:

• To the large dude on my bus who wears powder pink high tops;
• To the guys in the coffee shop who switch up their indie playlists for the occasional ABBA, which makes Monday mornings a little bit easier to stomach;
• To the businessman in front of me in line, who grooved to "Dancing Queen" without any hint of embarrassment;
• To the Rolling Stones and the Beatles, reasons obvious;
• To my PI, a man who is so good at being a boss that I somehow never have any complaints (about him);
• To my dad;
• To my awesome boyfriend, who not only puts up with my neuroses but sometimes claims to like them;
• To the men (and women, too) who have invented and improved modern plumbing so that I can take hot showers and use indoor toilets.

Props to you, dudes. Props.


Enjoy that. It's all you'll get from me until men learn what it's like to menstruate.

Some thoughts about women and their blogs

There's scads of blogs by women I will collectively refer to as Barbie Kenswifeywife (nee Homemakertobe) who slave at their computer to rehash every detail of the meatloaf, pancakes, muffins, pie, sandwich, etc that they made for their husband that day and then show us a pretty picture of what it looked like on the plate before he tore it to pieces with his giant dirty man hands. Or feel the need to describe what type of flower a bunny was chewing on in their garden that morning and how it felt to watch a carrot grow. Some of these blogs are actually written by unmarried women (perhaps Skipper Homemakertobe) who seem intent on establishing an anecdotal resume accounting for her skills as a future wife and mother.

What I don't get about this is why these women are so anxious to throw themselves on the pyre of matronly incarceration-- are these the same people that yearn for the retro $150 aprons at Anthropologie? Because listen, honey, the underwear there is much cuter. Your husband will like it more than another apple pie. Also, there are hobbies that won't make you and your husband look like saggy troll dolls when you're naked together. Just a thought.

As women in real life we hit glass ceilings at work, suffer under the antiquated ideals of the older generations, and juggle our personal narratives with conflicting global endeavors. On our own blogs, we are able to choose who are we and what we present to the world-- so why is everyone my age trying to transform herself into a 1950's housewife?

Not to say my blog's perfect, but you won't see me listing my typing speed and a list of dinners I know how to make. You won't see me writing cutesy little things about my weekend or about the homemade facial recipe I tried this weekend. I write this blog with only one aspiration:

For the irritated, for the frustrated, for those embittered and disenchanted with the world, that they may experience catharsis and laughter and fraternity in my rage;
For the dull and boring at heart, that they may be enlightened to all that is more interesting in the world than reality TV, pop music, and baking chocolate chip cookies;
And for the lame, the clueless, the assholes, and the sadsacks, that they may be shamed, shamed, shamed into making this world a less annoying place.

In closing, I would just like to say: I would love to read a woman's blog that is not about cooking, gardening, mothering, knitting, or any sort of crafting. Maybe a law blog, or an auto-repair blog. Send me some links. Next week, for Valentine's Day, I'll make a post highlighting women who are cool. VIVA LA FEMME.