Zitat des Tages von Faith Salie:
If you're ever bcc'd, do not go near 'reply all.' 'Bcc' is 'blind carbon copy.' It means you're a fly on the wall, dude! If you hit reply all, it's beyond bad etiquette to out the person who gave you the superpower of invisibility. It's like screaming, 'I'm a spy!'
The t-shirts that declare 'Girls Rule the World' offer an empirical falsehood, but at least the aspiration is there.
'Man cave' seems retrograde, but 'she shed' seems progressive. Or maybe it's just a place for me to eat embarrassing amounts of chocolate in private.
I think there's something very disingenuous about literally all people who say that they don't care about anyone's approval.
This is America; our icons are complicated.
I entered my egg-freezing adventure from a feeling of lack - a lack of fertility, of the right partner, of biological time. But this perceived lack actually produced abundance - of options, time, peace of mind, and microscopic chances of a child.
If I could have had my baby sooner, I would have, simply to spend more years with him.
There's a bit of a reluctance on my part to promote myself as any kind of hero because the things I've had to overcome in my life are not the deepest, darkest things.
Having grown up Catholic, my prayers were scripted - memorized and deployed in church and before bed. As a young adult, I veered off script and talked to God more plainly. And by 'talked to,' I mean that I basically asked for things to turn out the way I wanted them to.
I don't think, in my entire 18 years as a student, I ever used an exclamation point in an academic paper.
Social media provides a constant platform on which to feature what we deem beautiful, meaningful, and worthy.
Mother's Day is a bittersweet day for many of us. We all have mothers, but some of us have lost them.
I spent my late twenties and all of my thirties figuring out what I was supposed to be doing and where my home was.
Approval ratings matter for politicians, largely for good reason. A leader with plummeting approval ratings ought to take note of the needs and hopes of his people.
Women are blessed with lots and lots of extra ways to win or lose validation. If you're a woman, you'll be judged on your beauty and your wit and how often you smile. You'll be judged on how much hair you have in some places and not in others.
Power is not nearly enough for Trump. Power he already possessed, starting with the money his father gave him, which grew into the money he never paid in taxes because he is 'smart.' No: Power and ambition pale in comparison to Trumpbeth's rapacious grab for applause.
Contrary to the negative stereotype that folks who swear have poor vocabularies, a fluency in taboo language correlates with overall verbal fluency. The more words you know, the more you know... and the more colorfully you can express yourself, with nuance, metaphor, and emotion.
If you grasp the bathroom door handle to exit without using a paper towel, you're right back where you started, with who-knows-whose germs on your hands.
Making fun of people's looks is something that children do - mean children - and, in fact, linguists have determined that Trump actually speaks like a 3rd grader.
Real love is more than a one-time, seemingly iron-clad pledge that we will never be apart. If you're over 20, you've probably figured out that meaningful love isn't constricting; it doesn't chain you to one place or to each other.
Divorce court seemed to inspire in my girlfriends 1940s-era fashion fantasies, not only for me, but for themselves.
Donald Trump, who surely has lots of high-stakes issues on which to focus, is consumed with the appearance of women.
No longer is a geek identifiable by a pale complexion, black-rimmed glasses, a bowling shirt that says 'Nerd World Order.' No, geeks are everywhere. And they're cool!
On a meaningful day, everything you wear can have meaning. It becomes what I wore That Day, whether that day is a beginning or an end.
Women all over this great land are creating spaces just for themselves, most often out of sheds in their backyards. They're fantasy cottages, bespoke bungalows, 'mama maisons,' if you will, for mothers and wives who need a sanctuary - a haven where they can do anything, or nothing.
Whenever I told women - friends or acquaintances - that I had to go to divorce court, they'd invariably, without skipping a beat, ask, 'What are you going to wear?' It was like instant female solidarity: of course it mattered what I was going to wear.
Did you know you're supposed to soap and scrub for as long as it takes to sing 'Happy Birthday' twice?
I'm not actually perishing, but I do feel like I die a little every time someone uses 'literally' to mean 'really.'
Well-done eyelash extensions make you look beautiful and doe-eyed without a lick of makeup.
Famous people I've interviewed - powerful people, brilliant people, people whom you look at and think, 'Seriously, do you not have pores?' - have turned to me after interviews and asked, 'Was I okay? I hope I was okay.'
Boys have always known they could do anything; all they had to do was look around at their presidents, religious leaders, professional athletes, at the statues that stand erect in big cities and small. Girls have always known they were allowed to feel anything - except anger.
It's beyond TMI - oversharing is not just too much information; it's incessant sharing of non-information - breaking news about your gluten-free diet complete with duck face selfies.
The fact that oversharing exists at all as a noteworthy notion is a relief, because I'm afraid that our younger generations could grow up having no idea what it even means to overshare.
Shaking hands is a pretty good way to get yourself sick, not necessarily with Ebola, but with a million other germs that can cause colds and flu.
I'm a snowflake. And so are you. Your children are snowflakes. And so are mine. And those who protest the loudest about not being snowflakes? I can see your six-fold ice crystals from here! Because every person, empirically, is unique.
I've always wanted, notionally, to be a mother. And I was certain I would be, because everyone I know, gay or straight, married or single, rich or not so much, who truly wants to have a child figures out a way, some way, to have one - whether through adoption, fostering, surrogacy, fertility, accident, or persistence.
