"...and though she be but little she is fierce."

Gmail me at ccr002

Find me on Twitter at cloudyarecinos


"Anyway, here’s Wonderwall"

"Anyway, here’s Wonderwall"

The barista had a picture of her baby on the register, so I asked, “Is this your…” I was going to say “little guy.” But, babies, man. So ungenderized. I didn’t want to offend so I froze.

She gave me this look and said, “Uh, yes. ‘This’ is mine.”


She thought I’d said, “Is this yours?”  As in, this creature. This thing, here, is it yours?

Sigh… This happens to me so often it’s ridiculous.

Get ready, Chicago!


I’m going to watch “The Railway Man” at some point during the Chicago events next weekend, since it’s not playing in my hometown. Anyone interested in tagging along? I promise I’m very quiet when I orgasm like you don’t have to worry about me ruining your movie experience or anything.

Feel free to askbox me if you want to come worship at the altar of Firth.

Kid’s useful

Ken: Hey, how many sides does a stop sign have again?

Me: Brandon what shape is a stop sign?

Brandon: Octagon!

Me: There you go.

We have pee in the potty. WE HAVE PEE IN THE POTTY!

I was going to put that on facebook, as that is my Brandon update place and tumblr is more my “this is what the inside of my head looks like” place, but then I was afraid of offending the facebook folk and I have no such fears here because offending each other is what we do right?


My kid peed in the potty today. Earlier today, he missed. And it wasn’t pee. And I cheered you guys. I cheered and applauded and danced over, well, over shit on my bathroom floor.

Parenthood fucks you up.


- I’m at the mall! I dropped kiddo off at preschool and took myself to the mall. There, I said it. I feel like I needed to confess that. Like farting in an elevator or parking in a handicap spot. I’m having fun while my kid’s in school!! I am a miserable human being.

- Except nothing opens for another half hour so, less fun than I thought it’d be.

- I have a fear of looking like I don’t know where I’m going. It’s because I’m from Miami where tourists might as well wear a sign saying, “Mug me” but it’s also because I have a deathly horror of inconveniencing people with my ineptitude. So I try to never look lost. I tell you this because it’s on my mind, seeing as I have to travel in a week, but also because I’m nervous and when I’m nervous I get chatty.

- Ann Taylor Loft has a sale on shorts and suddenly I need shorts even though I hate baring my legs in public. But look! Look how cute they are! (The shorts, not my gross legs.)

- I’m reading “Torch” by Cheryl Strayed which is one way to make yourself gloomy and depressed about EVERYTHING so rather than crying every day I’ve started reading a funny book in between chapters. So it’s like: read a chapter of “Torch,” contemplate lying listlessly in bed for the rest of the week, read Tina Fey’s book, get up and sing and make brownies! GOTO 10. I read Mindy Kaling’s book earlier this week. B.J. Novak’s is next. (See? Chatty.)

He wanted to ride “the princess car.”

My kid is fabulous.

He wanted to ride “the princess car.”

My kid is fabulous.



What I’m really terrified of is leading an average, ordinary life with a regular job and an invariable routine, planned holidays, an average household, fixed responsibilities and not doing anything different to be remembered by.

But it’s important to remember it doesn’t make you less if this is exactly what you want. There is no shame in the ordinary and mundane. As long as you’re happy who cares if the world forgets you. All the people I care about will be dead anyway. I don’t give a shit if nobody remembers I liked to blog on the internet and watch marathons of Archer.

I feel like Lisa’sreply is the wisest thing I will read all day

I feel like there’s a fundamental difference in the way my husband and I view the world and it can be pretty much summed up like this:

Me: Did you know Tina Fey’s face was slashed when she was a kid and that’s why she has a scar on her face?

Ken: Tina Fey has a scar on her face?


I’ve been freelancing for months now. I’ve written close to a hundred articles and I’ve never had anything other than glowing reviews. So you can see why the idea of an article being sent back to me kind of bounced off my over-inflated ego. You DARE to send an article BACK?!

It’s the worst feeling. The absolute worst. I want to crawl into a hole and die of shame.

I’m not wholly to blame here. If you send me four articles as models and they’re all science-for-the-non-scientist type of articles, you can’t come back at me with, “your article’s not technical enough.” But still. Rejection. It’s a bastard.

I feel so embarrassed and loser-y.