Any athletic endeavor comes with a risk of injury. If you do any type of martial art, that risk tends to be a bit higher. You could be participating in something as innocent as cardio kickboxing; there's still a chance you're going to walk away with some black and blues (or white-and-golds ... are we sick… Continue reading Non-Fighting-Related Injuries (Or: Why I’d Suck as a Competitive Fighter)
Category: Why I’m a Bad Human Being
A Few Thoughts While Grocery Shopping
Okay, this gets me every time I'm at the supermarket. WHY the gluten-free labels on chicken breasts? Were these chickens raised on a gluten-free diet? Or are they trying to remind us that plain chicken cutlets are gluten-free? Word to the wise, farmers: if your chickens have grains in their meat, you are raising your… Continue reading A Few Thoughts While Grocery Shopping
Kanye Yoga, Bitch
I think it's been firmly established by now that I'm a crude, lewd individual. However, I pride myself on making sure the music for my yoga classes is always 100% PG. I typically play a lot of acoustic covers, a lot of folk-rock, and a lot of instrumental music. But some classes merit more upbeat playlists.… Continue reading Kanye Yoga, Bitch
On Casual Misogyny and Referees
A few days ago, for the first time since he joined the team, I went to one of my husband's intramural basketball games. I walked into the building 15 minutes before the game was set to play, found a seat with a clear view of the court, and sat down. The people actually playing the game milled… Continue reading On Casual Misogyny and Referees
Three Thoughts When People Post “It’s Snowing!” on Facebook in January.
1. "It IS snowing. How pretty." 2. "Great. Another day of shoveling driveways, swerving around the road, and potentially having to cancel plans. Not exactly my idea of a winter wonderland." 3. "It's January! To paraphrase Chris Rock: that's what's supposed to be happening in this region of the world, you low-expectation-having motherfucker!"
A Case of Mistaken Child Bride Identity
LET ME PAINT A PICTURE FOR YOU REAL QUICK: I'm in Home Depot with my husband, getting planks of wood for a basement project. Both of us are dressed in a way that says we've just woken up, we're planning to go to the gym, or we've given up on life (why not all three?).… Continue reading A Case of Mistaken Child Bride Identity
Phrases I Can Use On My Cats, But Not My Future Children
"Come here, you little fucker. You're adorable." "For the love of God, can you learn to cover up your poop?" "For the love of God, stop licking your brother's butt." "The repairman's coming over, so I need to lock you in the basement for a few hours." "Who is my little fatass? Is it you?… Continue reading Phrases I Can Use On My Cats, But Not My Future Children
My First Week of All Teaching and No Taking
Hey! Did you know I'm a yoga instructor? Have I not mentioned that practically every chance I get and in every medium I can? No? Hey, guess what: this bitch is a registered yoga instructor. Pleasure to meet you. I became registered in this past August, and I actually started teaching about a month or two before that: first… Continue reading My First Week of All Teaching and No Taking
Writing and the Ultimate Unpaid Internship
Long before I tried my hand at op-ed pieces and personal essays, I was a wannabe novelist. I knew I wanted to be a novelist before I could actually read books that counted as real novels. I told everyone I was going to be the next Stephen King (only, y'know, Stephanie King, because I'm a girl) long… Continue reading Writing and the Ultimate Unpaid Internship
Blogging Versus Essays — or: “It’s a Huge Fucking Pet Peeve When You Call My Articles ‘Blogs’.”
For the last year or so, I've decided to expand my operation. I went from the would-be novelist (and not "would be" as in, "Someday I'll write the next Great American Novel," but as in, "For the love of St Fuckitallsburg, someone purchase one of my manuscripts.") with a sporadic tendency toward short stories to… Continue reading Blogging Versus Essays — or: “It’s a Huge Fucking Pet Peeve When You Call My Articles ‘Blogs’.”
That (Not This) Abby Rose 