Breakfast in bed and keeping the baby alive

I’ve settled on a word for how having a baby makes me feel: peeled. If I’m not lurching from one room to another in underpants I haven’t changed in three days and a maternity bra wide open on both sides like some kind of fetish gone wrong, my post-pregnancy belly hanging out like a plastic…

Pesto scrambled eggs, Whitney Houston, and life with SJ

All week I’ve felt like crying. It feels exactly like the low-grade nausea I had during my first trimester, without the nausea. There’s no REASON for me to cry, and I DON’T cry, but I FEEL like crying. One afternoon I stood in the bathroom at work, just stood there in front of the full-length…

Perfect fried egg and WTF online dating trolls

I have something to confess: I’m happy and in a relationship. I KNOW. I HATE ME, TOO. It’s the fucking death knell of a snarky blog about online dating. I’ve been limping along these past couple of weeks, trying to wreak havoc, but I can’t get this fucking guy to stop being nice to me….