That’s not a complaint. In fact, it’s a bit of a bragging right for me. I can hang drywall, tape, mud, sand, prime, and paint drywall. That’s a lot more than I could do six months ago. Home improvement, while awesomely empowering, is expensive and time consuming. And my muscles hurt. Also, I’ve forgotten a few meals here and there. Without resorting to frozen pizza every night, options are running low around here. Continue Reading
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If there is one season that is likely to turn a mild-mannered dude or dudette into a murderous, hunchbacked king, it is now—the winter of our discontent. This time of year can be a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. I mean, in my neck of the woods, it is dark as coffee by about five o’clock at night, the roads can be treacherous, my car needs to be scraped every time I want to see out the windshield while driving, and the temperatures already are sub-zero. This is Minnesota’s fatality move par excellence. If you listen closely to the night air, you can hear the distant cry of FINISH HIM. Continue Reading
‘Tis the season for giving. For many charities, donations received between Thanksgiving and New Years represent a big chunk of their annual budgets. According to a survey by Charity Navigator, responding charities received an average of 41 percent of their annual contributions during the last few weeks of the year. Continue Reading
Anxiety. Fear. Panic. Depression. Incapacitation. It can be very difficult for me to let go of old clothes. That good, ol’ hoarding gene (not yet proven to exist, but I’m a believer) runs heavily through my family, including me. Thankfully, it’s just a touch. Even that’s a lot, though. So how do I cope?
As we kick it into high holiday gear, we shouldn’t lose sight of the most important part of this or any season: our inalienable right to party. Continue Reading
It’s true. Too a degree, anyway. I cling to the clutter, even if it’s poisonous. Hoarding, to quite a severe degree, runs in my family. Anxiety and depression, what seems to be the root of hoarding, run in my family. While my hoarding isn’t very serious, it has definitely overrun from adorably overstuffed closets to truly negatively affecting my life. Continue Reading
There is a body in my fridge, which I am gleefully looking forward to eating in a short while. This means one of two things: I have watched Silence of the Lambs one time too many, or it is Thanksgiving week in America. I will let you decide. Continue Reading
I signed up for a gym membership last weekend, and although I knew that my health insurance would cover some of the cost if I went twelve times every month, I assumed the number of visits required would be prorated depending on the time of month you sign up. Not so. There were thirteen days left of the month when I signed up, and I need to get twelve visits in. Challenge accepted. Continue Reading
It’s so easy to get pulled into the new house… There’s painting and sorting and organizing still to be done, even two months later. We’re bringing up the basement from studs and drywall to a living space. Laundry, grocery shopping, dishes, sweeping and vacuuming need to done. Milk fat percentage decisions. It’s too easy to forget important things. Continue Reading
There have been stretches of my life during which I felt introversion was a curse. I mean, everyone else seemed to always be up for so much fun, so I searched hard for a memory of having been hexed by some gold-bangled and bandanna clad Madame, or of suffering a bite at the hands of another introvert while they rampaged my black and white movie village. I couldn’t figure it out, but whenever I felt the full moon of my social life approach I waited for someone with a silver bullet to come and pull an Old Yeller on me before I lost control of my humanity. They never came. Which is good, because a silver bullet would be super duper expensive and also I’m not real crazy about being shot. Continue Reading
I was first introduced to Apple Pie on my 21st birthday. I can’t think of a better way to have ended a long morning of beer drinking than that shot of apple flavoring mixed with a hint of cinnamon. I was hooked at the first taste. Then I heard that people make it at home and I knew that I’d have to learn, too. Continue Reading
My friend Marc Calvary was 32, unmarried and childless (or child-free, if you want to get into semantics) when he decided to go through with his long-time plan to have a vasectomy. This was six years ago, and I have always been curious about his decision to go under the knife. Before I met Marc, I thought vasectomies were just for the 45-year-old married father of four who can’t handle another mouth to feed or the 65-year-old Lothario who wants to spend his golden years banging chicks without the fear of losing his hard-earned fortune to child-support payments, not a young man with no kids and most of his life still ahead of him. Continue Reading