Tag Archives: parents

in fact we’re slip slidin’ away.

This evening after a day of attempted productivity, I went over to my friend Tamar’s house so that we could both whine about our first-world problems while weeping into a J.Crew catalog. Obviously there were emo songs involved. It was just one of those days…chalk it up to a quarter-life crisis. She taught me that Paul Simon’s “Slip Sliding Away” is an excellent wallow-in-self-pity kind of song:

We were emo for a while tonight then headed off to girl’s night, which is where we drink wine and eat lots of food and watch embarrassing television with a couple of other gals. Pretty standard. Except tonight my friend Jill’s dad was in town, and he was actually a wonderful addition to girl’s night. I love meeting people’s parents. It’s so telling. All of a sudden you’re like “Ahhh so THAT’S why you are the way you are.” In this case, I realized how Jill became such a wonderful, kind, and interesting person. Who likes Thai food and wine.

[Posted by Mallory]

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Filed under drinks, family, food, music, post-college depression, YouTube

youtube clip of today: claw machine.

This little girl knows how to go after what she wants. Haha, oh man I would sacrifice the few hairs on my beloved hairless dog to have sound with this clip. Everyone’s reaction is priceless. The mother, when she doesn’t believe her son. The mother again, when she realizes that her daughter is actually inside the machine. The father, who doesn’t really care. The little girl as she rolls around in glory surrounded by stuffed animals. And the waitress, laughing hysterically as the little girl is finally birthed out of the claw machine.

Enjoy!

[Posted by Kathleen]

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Filed under babies, random, YouTube

oh mal, i don’t like blogs.

Mom

That is what my mother said to me this morning when I told her that Kathleen and I started a blog. The convo went a little something like this:

Me: “So, Mom, Kathleen and I started a blog.”
Mom [in hushed, dramatic voice]: “Oh Mal, I don’t like blogs.”
Me: “Sigh.”
Mom: “Can’t weird people, like, find you and get attached to you?”
Me: “Well, yes, but only if they find the article where I posted my social security number and home address.”
Mom: “Oh okay FINE.”
Me [in a display of maturity]: “Well, I’m just not going to tell you the name of it, then, so you can’t find it.”
Mom: “Is there something bad on it?!”
Me: “Yes, Mom. We’re running an amateur kiddie porn site. NO! We’re just writing about…you know, whatever we want to write about.”

Then I told her a little about the McCunt post, and the hilarious video to go along with it, and she laughed and said she wanted to read the blog. I think we’ve got a convert. 

[Posted by Mallory]

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Filed under blogging

yo, want 2 swing dance 2nite?

Everyone loves a good “how we met” story. You know, the kind that makes movies like Must Love Dogs (uggh, it kills me to think that I’ll never get those two hours of my life back) seem normal. I love it when my parents tell theirs. If you have ever read wedding announcements/seen 27 Dresses or care about that sort of stuff at all, you know the “how we met” story is the icing on the wedding cake.

But with all of the chick flicks out there to let us know how it should be, you know when a “how we met” story is really bad.

Ex- “Well, I was at one end of the bar and he was at the other. After all of his friends had tried with me, I finally agreed when he asked to buy me a drink because he seemed like the nicest and I wanted to have enough money left over for a cab. We ended up making out at the bar and he Facebooked me later that night.”

Here is my favorite though-this one truly takes the, err, wedding cake. An old friend recently got engaged. Out of pure obligation and a touch of nosiness, one of my BFFLs (LYLAS) asked his fiancée how they met. To this the fiancée responded:

“We met on MySpace. You got a problem with that?”

YES, I DO. But that’s because I hate MySpace with the passion of 18 million angry Hillary voters.

Obviously this girl was on the defensive. She knew that her story was anything but cute. She knows how it is perceived, so she lied to her parents. She told her parents they met swing dancing. SWING DANCING. Yup. Just off the top of my head, I can name a few trillion things more believable and plausible than that. But this brings to mind the question: where do you go to meet someone swing dancing? Plus, I don’t know many single dudes that would go to a swing dancing event. But whatev. If that’s the fantasy she wants, let her have it.

When we spend most of our time online and plugged in, it’s no shock (sadly) that it becomes the dating arena. The biggest step you need to make is Facebooking them. From their Facebook you can get a phone number. And then, you can send a text: hey what r u doing tonight.

I don’t condemn it, but I don’t like it. I will condemn it, however, if it has anything to do with MySpace. Is your engagement photo going to be a longarm style black and white pouty face with added sparkles? If that happens to you, lie to me. Because deep down I still have faith that true “how we met” stories can be cute. I, of course, expect to meet the love of my life at a political rally, realize we love the same Disney movies and old movie musicals, talk about Barack, eat lots of ice cream and live happily ever after. But that’s just me.

[Posted by Kathleen]

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Filed under crushes, definitely not politics