Just A Little Off Kilter....

Is it yoga if you wear sweatpants all day and then hunch over the kitchen sink as you eat a burrito?

Today, January 27th, was the twenty four year anniversary of my first kiss. At fifteen, I was a late bloomer. I am a girl, so I remember these kinds of things. I remember that I had, after months of chicken-shit debate, made a $5 bet with a friend that I would finally kiss the object of my infatuation. I remember that I planned my outfit carefully: a blue and white shirtdress, my brand-new blue Reebok sneakers, my CoverGirl Lipslicks lip gloss. I remember looking at myself in the mirror before leaving the house with ridiculous gravitas: This, I remember thinking to myself, will change everything. It wasn't a date, this kiss. It happened at his sisters birthday party. He was younger than me, but cocky for fourteen. We had been flirting steadily for a few months. He made my heart beat really fast. Now I laugh, but that night I felt like a seductress in my Reeboks and Lipslicks. I remember playing with my food, giving him meaningful looks, twirling my unruly hair. When I was finished

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! In case you didn’t know, that’s the sound of me screaming in terror. No, I wasn’t being chased by a masked serial killer or hunted for sport by a group of scientifically altered super monkeys. It’s so much worse - I saw a roach! It’s the second I’ve seen at the mall actually. It’s as if they know when I’m the most vulnerable and they strike and scare the crap out of me. Literally. I am deathly afraid of (some) bugs, especially ones that I feel could take me in a fight. They’re gross, they’re creepy and I feel they bear me ill will. Now I know some of you may be thinking, "What’s the big deal? Bugs are important to our planet’s eco-system. We can all co-habitate peacefully together if we respect each other’s place in this world." Well, I say back to you..."You are a dirty hippie and no one wants to come to your house." For those of you like myself who find even Jiminy Cricket to be threatening (a bug is even more terrifying when dressed in a top hat an

You'd think that atoms bonding would mean they're being friendly to each other, but instead they steal each others electrons. How ionic. Atomic Atom Molecule Art Print by Walkslee via Etsy

I am working very hard. C an't You tell? If you were here, you could hear the churning and whirring coming from the dishwasher. That, my friends, is the equivalent of me standing by the sink elbow deep in hot suds with an aching back, blowing wisps of hair out of my eyes. If it weren't for the modern marvel of the dishwasher, I would be battling dried tomato sauce or chocolate syrup or whatever stubbornly clings to a cup, saucer or bowl. The fact that the dishwasher is doing it for me doesn't negate my efforts because the job is getting done...and I am, therefore, entitled - guilt free - to sit down here, in my jammies, tapping away to you. Next, a load of clothes will enter the washing machine dirty and emerge clean and fresh, ready to be popped into dryer from which they will reappear dry and, if folded quickly, nearly wrinkle-free.  This is, obviously, the equivalent of two hours (at least) of back-breaking labour.  The kind once done by my grandma in the deep tub of