Archive
Writing and Pants
I have gadzooks of writing to do today. Seeing as how I’m a writer among other things, this is not a surprising thing. However, in this case I’ve got gadzooks of writing to do for work as well. So yeah. There comes a time when you can’t procrastinate any longer on certain projects. This rubber needs to meet the road and in a hurry. But I also need to buy some pants.
Talking Poop Yo!
We’ve all done it — talked about someone or something in disparaging terms. Call it “venting” or “going stabbity” or whatever, there are times when airing our feelings, perhaps in even a less than favorable gossip-like way, feels like the right thing to do. But how comfortable are you to talk about actual poop? As in your own?
Me, not so much.
Love When The Forecast Is For 90
Today has been one of those days. Not necessarily bad, just not the kind you want to have your own personal Groundhog Day modeled after. Case in point? I got to chat with the dude from the gas company while wearing my “grandmotherly” bathrobe and my hair standing on end. I bet he wishes he hadn’t come to my door right then. I suppose the bright side of the whole catastrophe is the fact that by being freshly showered instead of my pajamas he may have assumed I was some health nut who’d been exercising for three hours. Of course, we all know I was swilling coffee and writing, but whatever. Read more…
Doing Things The Hard Way
I’ve been lamenting for several days over the sad, sad condition of my kitchen floor. I’m pretty sure that if it were any more sticky, I’d loose either a flip-flop or a 6 year old in there. But of course, mopping said floor is never very high on my list of things to do. (Obviously.) But this morning, as I schlepped across the kitchen to the coffee maker, my slippers making a sound much like when I give my dog peanut butter, I figured I’d better actually mop the dang thing. And therein lies the story. Read more…
Vaginas Are Bad and Other Lies
I’ve been thinking about the capriciousness of life lately. Of my three children, one has Mister Soandso’s brown eyes; the other two have versions of my own hazel. They played no role in determining their own eye color, and yet it is part of what makes them who they are. Each of us is made of similar lists: hair, skin, and eye color; the shape of our features; the length of our bones; the effectiveness of our body’s organs and systems. Each of those check marks that come together to make us, were simply handed to us via chromosomes and genetics. However, they become who we are because they are what people see when they look at us.
We are to some extent only what people see. And we are also what people believe us to be, even if it is a lie.
Missives posted on Mondays and Fridays. Unless the coffee and chocolate run out...
Copyright © Kristina Martin and Ten Minute Missive, 2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kristina Martin and Ten Minute Missive with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
