HUMOR

There’s nothing better than snuggling into my enormous wearable blanket. It’s become my second skin. Iron Man has his suit; I have my Slanket.

Sure, I look like Leonardo DiCaprio in The Revenant, living out of the bear carcass, but it protects me from the elements. It shrouds me in a warm cocoon, rendering me completely immobile.

Some may say my inability to get off the couch is a result of depression, seasonal affective disorder, or generalized existential angst. I know it’s really the comforting weight of my Slanket that holds me down on the couch and keeps me glued to The Great British Baking Show. …

It’s been two years since I gave birth to my daughter. Hers was a rough, vaginal birth via forceps delivery. Doctors wrapped metal salad tongs around my daughter’s skull to yank her too-big head through my too-small vagina. A rough pregnancy and rough childbirth in my late 30s led to postpartum urinary incontinence — meaning I can’t hold my pee.

It’s estimated that one-third of women struggle with incontinence after childbirth, so it’s a common problem. If you’ve had a baby, are thinking about having a baby, or have someone in your life with a baby, it’s an important fact to acknowledge. …

As Inauguration Day in the US approaches, public concern over right-wing extremist attacks is mounting. Many Americans worry about a peaceful transfer of power and whether the fabric of our democracy will be torn asunder. These are serious times.

On the day of the US Capitol attack earlier this month, I shared a silly humor piece I had written called “I’m Never Taking Off My Wearable Blanket” to my personal Facebook page. My Facebook post said, “Sharing some silliness by yours truly! …

SATIRE

See the photo above? I took it lurking behind a plant at a pre-pandemic networking event.

For us socially-awkward souls, the pandemic offers a welcome reprieve. No more in-person work conferences, networking events, or other forced interactions professional life foists upon us. I wish I could say I crave face-to-face communication enough that I miss these experiences, but I don’t.

Talking with strangers is like playing a game I can’t win

It’s a combination of introversion, excessive self-monitoring, and intolerance for small talk that’s produced my specific strain of social awkwardness. For me, talking with people I’m unfamiliar with represents a series of games I can’t seem to win.

Talking with strangers at a business event, for instance, is like playing Minesweeper. If you’re too young to know what Minesweeper is, I’m sad for both of us. Opening a conversation with someone new, I don’t know if I’ll gain human interaction points or detonate a landmine. …

I live in Wisconsin — a land so in love with dairy that its residents can be seen wearing cheesehead hats. It’s no wonder — Wisconsin produces more cheese than any other state in the U.S. I used to enjoy dairy, too — the creaminess of yogurt, the tanginess of sharp cheddar, the sweetness of ice cream.

Everything changed two years ago when I discovered my baby daughter had a cow’s milk protein intolerance. Since I was breastfeeding and could pass any dairy I ate to her through my milk, I had to cut out all dairy from my diet. …

News of the attack on the US Capitol building has weighed heavily on my family, particularly my typically even-keeled husband. He’s been glued to his phone, tracking updates on the situation. He started complaining about an ache in his jaw — a muscle that seems permanently tensed. He’d been carrying this weight in silence, not wanting to talk about it. When he finally opened up, our conversation disturbed me.

Last night in bed, he turned to me and said, “I have something I want to discuss with you.” His tone was so serious I was instantly alarmed.

“What is it?” I asked. …

If you’ve been dating long enough, you accumulate your fair share of horror stories. My date with a really short guy I met on Match.com used to be a regular one in my rotation of “horrible dates to laugh about at dinner parties.” It’s been 15 years since that date, and my perspective of it has shifted. But before we get to that, here’s the story:

Before moving to Boston for a summer internship, I was dumped by a guy I thought was the love of my life. …

The Crown is a show I should like. One of my favorite movies in high school was Sense and Sensibility. Downton Abbey? Yes, please — although my interest waned after the third season. Victoria — I’ve watched that, too. For most of my life, I’ve had a soft spot for English period dramas.

Yet, I can’t muster up the interest to watch The Crown. Netflix’s drama follows Queen Elizabeth II from her 1947 wedding to the present. It has all the trappings that would usually pull me in. Critical acclaim. A knockout cast. Beautiful cinematography and exquisite costumes. …