You can boss me around anytime, Tina Fey

tina fey bossy pantsIt’s everything you have heard it is. This book, put simply (yet thoughtfully), rocks.

Between the gyno passing out stories and the foray into the birth of SNL incarnation of Sarah Palin, I fell in love with this lady named Tina…and her sassy voice.

She’s my new hero. She was already rocking my world with 30 Rock, but she just made it official. I’m in love. And I’ll reiterate the title of this post and the feeling in my heart, you can boss me around anytime, Tina Fey.

I listened to the audio book on the ride home from a recent trip to Philly with a car full of like-minded females. I find that the audience your viewing/listening to media really matters. And it was also double the pleasure-double the fun double listening experience because she is originally from Pennsylvania and she talked about the very highway we were driving on. (deh nuh nuh nuh, deh nuh nuh nuh) That’s my Twilight word translation…what a doozy to type out. It took about 5 minutes to figure out the logistics. And I still don’t think it’s right.

I knew this book was going to be a hit before I bought it though. Mr. M had just gotten back from a man trip and they (7 dudes) listened to it on the drive back from California and they all loved it. That spoke volumes to me and made the $21.95 download (gulp) easy(-ier) to click on.

By the end of the audio book I felt inspired. I felt happy. I felt like yes, we (as women & as people) can have it all. We can have family AND a career. And despite what they say, we can be happy.

I don’t want to say too much, and give away some of the funnest parts of the book. But just trust me on this one. Bossy Pants, all the cool kids are downloading it. Come join the fun (nerdy) club.

Yours ready for Tina Fey to boss me around,


New York, I <3 You!

One day I will be writing a letter and it will come to part where I write my return address. The letters will flow from my finger tips…Brooklyn, New York. Ahhhhhhh. Rolling in like ink thunder…Brooklyn, New York.

I’ve been dreaming of New York a lot lately. Mostly due to the fact that it’s become increasingly obvious that my current job situation is about as dead-end as they come. I am not challenging myself and I’m surely stunting my growth. But it’s great for me right now…but in a year, not so much. So my new goal. To move to New York in the fall of 2012.

Why do I love New York?

It’s scares the shit out of me and intrigues me. It makes me feel large and small at the same time. It doesn’t go to sleep.

To me, it’s the ultimate challenge to move away from everything comforting into a new place with new people and new dreams.

The whole two times I’ve sunk my teeth into the Big Apple I felt so at home there. Somehow I don’t get lost (which is a miracle in itself).

I feel like New York and I would get along really well. I daydream about my life there…I would fall in love with my work and the smelly, schizophrenic city.

New York is magical. Growing up I always thought of it as some kind of far away land where dreams happened. Hollywood and my mom contributed to my self-perpetuated delusions.

My mom would tell me stories of her days living there. She was a costumer and worked for CATS. Everyone told her not to move out there, that she wouldn’t find a job. She found a job in 2 weeks with the Shakespeare in the Park, which (apparently) is (or was) a big deal for theatre folk. From there, she got the job on CATS. She moved back to Oklahoma to take care of my grandmother who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, but she was doing really well before she had to leave.

I’ll probably be alone in New York although I’d greatly prefer to have someone to share it with.

What I really want is to wake up on a Sunday and go buy flowers for myself from the shop that sits below me… and then get an egg sandwich, and sit on my shitty balcony eating the deliriously delicious egg sandwich with my happy flowers, and a big glass of orange juice (freshly picked and squeezed, please).

And then I will sing this song along with Liza while I read the New Yorker…

bubble battle new york

see how much fun this looks!

I also want to go to the Bubble Battle…holy hell. And most the time, if not all, New York has something amazing going on. Sure, I realize I will be poor and practically homeless on a month-to-month basis, but it’s happening around me…it’s the energy. And who knows, maybe I won’t be as Pauperella as I suspect, maybe I will have a little money to go and do something every once n’while.

So what jobs could I possibly want in New York? I have a list so here we go:

  1. Focus Features (I’ll be the mail girl for christ’s sake…just gimme a jooob)
  2. HBO Productions (everyone has mail)
  3. Kickstarter (project manager, yessss)
  4. Vimeo (I’d rock anything that needs to be produced/organized)
  5. Etsy (apparently one of the funnest companies to work for…I can have fun)
  6. Women Make Movies (gimme something to manage, communicate, or organize and I’ll rock it)

All I ask, New York, is that I just don’t want to end up heartbroken like Barbara in Funny Girl. Such a great movie.

And these are just some of the reasons that I love New York.

I daydream about it. When the harsh Oklahoma winter winds slaps me in the face I (literally) think to myself, “Bring it…You’ve got nothin’ on New York baby.”

Is that weird?

Maybe a little.

Matt and Kim, take us out…

Yours with a Big Apple dream that will be ready for pickin’ come fall 2012,


Guest Blogger – Granuaile: Enough

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

I’ve now been on a few dates with this new guy… He’s fun, he dances, he texts when I think he should, he plays soccer, and he seems genuinely interested in me, but yet I keep trying to find ways to mark him off the list so I don’t have to mess with the get to know you part any more. I have no reason not to give it a try. And that’s when I realized all this change that has happened in my life the past few months has made it really hard for me to be patient and just be. I am constantly looking to the next thing and the adrenalin rush of the new. Not just with men, but with my life.

So when will I feel like it’s enough? To be able to stop constantly moving. I’m not really an adrenalin junkie in the skydiving, rollercoaster type of way. I’m actually kind of a scardy-cat when it comes to hanging off mountains or even jumping out of swings. But I do crave the new. The nerves and excitement of traveling to new places. Starting your life over. Trying to see if you can make it. I moved across the ocean just 5 months ago and I’m already starting to think about where I’ll move next and then what will I do after that and after that.

I know I’ll probably never be a homebody and I hope to keep traveling well into my 80’s, but when will I feel like my home is enough? Not settling for something less than my best or giving in to a “normal” life. But instead feeling peaceful about where I am and what I’m doing.

The restless,


Motherfuckin’ orange Honda Element

This is how I feel.

Fuck the Honda Element and (especially) fuck the orange one.


Fuck you, ugly car!

My loathing of a silly car may seemingly come from nowhere, but I assure you there is a reason.

MF drives this car. And while I am currently uber happy and moving on with Mr. M in my life… I can’t help it, I STILL feel this way when I see his car.

I have always thought the car of the box-kind variety was ugly. Just trashy and unthoughtful. When I found out that MF drove one, I literally said, “Oh. One of those box cars?”

We used MF’s car to do a lot of things. As in most relationships, there were a lot of memories made in that car. When we went on trips he would often make me drive longer than him and it would hurt my butt. It looks about as comfortable as it is. Sitting on a box for 9 hours is not ideal. We endured the Hail Storm of 2010 in that car; where he blamed me for not checking the weather and therefore being the reason why we got caught in the weather.

It was also in that car where he first told me to “just be happy” and to let it go when I asked him why he purposefully slammed a door in my face. I asked him to apologize to me, and he responded that he doesn’t take requests. There were good memories made in that car too, of course, but who the fuck cares when you are (overall) dating a Mind Fuck. Even the nice stuff is part of the mind fucking, so it’s really not so nice after all.

Ever since the MF break-up back in September, when I see the orange Honda Element, I cringe. How many people really have this ugly car? A LOT, actually. Or at least, because I notice it I notice it. The thing is orange and ugly, so you really can’t miss it. And every time I do see it I immediately think, “Is it MF?” There’s even one that sits outside my bedroom window all day and all night. I’ve seen it move once in the past 4 months. I think it’s taunting me.

car outside of my window

Doesn't it look like it's taunting me? Fucker.

But this car hatred (which obviously really is just a physical reminder of a painful time in my life) came to a head the other day when I ran an errand on my lunch at work. I saw the orange box of shit at a place MF would more than likely be. I was instantly anxious. But I pushed it out of my mind. After running the errand I parked my car and was walking across a street fairly close to the previously mentioned orange box siting. I stood their waiting for the light to change so I could cross the street and get back to work. That’s when I saw it.

I was for sure it was him. He was three cars away from the light where I was standing. I caught myself holding my breath. It was the longest light ever. He was about to be right next to me. I should have worn something nice today. My face is all broken out. I’m alone. I wish I was walking with someone, laughing and having fun.

The orange crept into my view. I peaked. I looked across the street in a Rico Suave move to see if it actually was him. As I glanced across the street, there it was…the car was right in front of me.


Inside, a busted looking old leathery white haired man stared back at me.

HA! I literally laughed out loud. I crossed the street and as I walked back to work I felt a sense of relief. I had just scared myself out of being scared. And then I wrote this story down while in traffic, surrounded by cars (don’t worry, I wasn’t moving), and I laughed some more. And writing it now, again, and having you lovely readers read it, makes me feel even better about this piece of shit car. How glorious it is to talk about things and then be able to conquer them.

Yours conquering one ugly piece of shit orange Honda Element at a time,


Guest Blogger – Granuaile: What’s Love Got To Do With It?

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

Tina TurnerMaybe Tina Turner had it right. She definitely had it right with that fab 80’s hair do.

I know it’s such a cliché and horribly broad question, but how do you know when you’ve found true love? What is the feeling inside? How can you be sure this is it? Is love just a second hand emotion? I’ve thought that I’ve found it before, but I was clearly wrong, so how is it that I, being a smart, well educated, and driven individual, ready to shower my partner with love, can’t seem to figure it out? I see people who know after just 6 months. And it’s not just crazies trying to nab a guy before they leave university. Some of these seem like the real deal. And then there are the tenure daters who wait forever to declare the love.

Do you think you “fall” in love with little control over how it goes, or is being in love a choice you make after getting to know someone? You decide (I’m assuming with some romantic input), yes, I love this person, I can see my life with them and I will be in love with them?

Ever since I watched the movie “Paris, je t’aime,” the segment entitled “Bastille” has always stuck with me. It’s about a man who is getting ready to leave his wife, but before he can tell her this, she tells him she has been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Out of obligation, he reluctantly stays with her, but as he cares for her and helps her, he falls madly back in love and stays by her side until she passes away. By acting in love, can you eventually be in love? Surely there is more to it than that.

I hope the full on devotion and compassion type of love is not just a fairy tale. It seems the more people I talk to, and the more relationships I observe, the less I believe in that type of love. Yes of course, I realize that relationships take compromise and sacrifice and you’re not going to be happy with each other every second of every day. I would hate that anyway. I like a good argument – keeps your brain function up. But I look at couples like my parents, or old family friends and I see that a lot of times the passion is no longer there. It’s just a mutual agreement to live together, use each other as a tax deduction, and love the same child. I’m sure at one time they too thought they would be in love forever. But are they?

The inquisitive,