5 Stupid Things to Ditch: A (Late) New Year’s Post

I have a serious bug up my butt today and I’m just going to pretend it’s about the fact that 2016 is exactly like 2015 except for the annoying people who think some kind of magical fairy dust dropped on us along with the ball at midnight and changed everything. News flash: nothing has changed except that your expectations of change are super, duper annoying. Here are five annoying things everyone wishes we could stop with, effective immediately:

  1. Adulting: Why did we ever want to grow up? Adulting sucks. Last night I was at a Muse concert. I paid a fortune for it, with tickets, parking, booze, t-shirts for friends and the babysitter. It was worth it and amazing, but of course I got 4 hours of sleep and had to come to work. Fine, I have my big girl pants on. But I was 15 minutes late, mostly because I am ALWAYS about 30 minutes early and figured it would be fine. Nope. Arrived to “bad stuff” happening and everyone looking for me. Awesome. This is why adulating sucks. For 3 hours of good time, you pay $300 AND suffer consequences beyond the hangover you earned for yourself.

  2. “New Year, New Me:” This is a huge marketing campaign that I am seeing everywhere (okay, like 2 places. Whatever). How sad and desperate are we that we want to be someone entirely different? You guys, adulating sucks and life kind of hurts really often but the one thing you have through it all is YOU. If you can’t be nice to/love yourself, ain’t nobody else going to. No turning of a calendar page fixes self-loathing, so get your shit together.

  3. Felicia: Go home Felicia, you’re drunk. Seriously, bye girl. BYE. Okay now that she is gone, can we please stop saying this? It’s an overused reference from an old (but still awesome) movie, and if we want things to be “new” for 2016 we need to stop giving poor girls with this namesake a complex. It’s not like there’s tons of shorting nickname options for Felicia, unless you want to be called “F,” “Fel” or…yea I don’t even know what else.

  4. The “Voldemorts” of entertainment: I refuse to name their names because every you type it out, a kitten dies. Or maybe a kitten should die. Not because I am some kitten hating monster, but because if I posted a viral video of a kitten perishing as a direct result of giving these “K” people more publicity, maybe just maybe that would actually go viral and get more hits than a photo of She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named’s fat ass walking down the street in yet another see-through unitard. But probably not.

  5. Brandi Glanville/Leann Rimes: I thought these two were over. Like, “the horse died slowly and you waited for the vet to make sure it was dead but then proceeded to beat the dead horse after the body was cold and then buried it and waited ten more years and that’s how relevant these Z list bitches still are” over. Apparently not, because in 20-frickin’-16 I read a new article of how Rimes put Glanville “through hell” over the holidays. Hello, 2006 called just to say they don’t even want that trash-reeking “news” story back. Are either of these two even working on projects? I absolutely refuse to ruin my next 30 seconds looking this information up.

In conclusion, just stop being annoying. I am saying this both to people and to life in general. And stop waiting for magical fairy dust to sprinkle upon you, get off your ass, and make your own luck.

In conclusion, just stop being annoying. I am saying this both to people and to life in general. And stop waiting for magical fairy dust to sprinkle upon you, get off your ass, and make your own luck.

Please Don’t Understand

Actual view from my backyard

Actual view from my backyard

We moved away from our family and friends, to a “less desirable” county, into a “cheap” house, and why would we choose to slum it so? We had a nice, upper-middle class life, in a beautiful, if tiny, condo, located in an amazing school district, minutes from where we were born and near everything and everyone we ever knew.

And now, we live a decidedly middle-class lifestyle.

Why would we do this? Everyone wonders, usually out loud.

Where you see a “cheap” house, we see space for our children to run. We have rooms for our family to visit in a more quality way, preferring this over the high quantity of visits that were so taken fore granted before.

Where you see “builder grade” housing, we see opportunity to renovate into places we could only afford to dream of before. Saving $500/month on the mortgage for double the space helps us get there.

Where you see a backyard that “needs work,” we have a place for our pets to play, gardens for our daughter to grow. We don’t have to worry about her playing in the busy street near our old condo or “ruining” anything that was already perfect.

We love our home, and it isn’t for you to understand that.

We love our new jobs, where we have room for professional advancement and support that never could be found in the competitive, surface-level county we hailed from.

We love the quiet, away from the bustle and keep-up-with-the-Jones’ attitude of our previous lives. Our neighbors have been extremely welcoming and kind, yet also keep to themselves enough for our comfort. We feel safe on every level.

We have everything we need, and most of the things we’ve long desired. We feel badly that you are hurt by our move, but it wasn’t for you to decide for us. We love visiting you even more now that it is a special treat rather than one more task on a “to do” list.

We love you all, but it is not for you to judge our decisions, or make them for us. Please don’t even try anymore to understand, because if you did understand then it wouldn’t be for us anymore. We are fine, we are happy, and we hope that someday that will be all that matters to you too.


My “Maybe Baby” Checklist with Horizon genetic carrier screening

Having a child is an enormous decision full of excitement, possibilities and sheer terror. The first time around, I stifled my anxiety by making a “maybe baby” checklist, first with the pros and cons of starting a family then, once we had decided to go for it, a pregnancy to-do list.

My pregnancy checklist looked like this:

  1. Read the baby books: Not just because I’m a librarian! I was the first of my friends to have a child so I didn’t have too many young mothers to talk to. Books like What to Expect are great resources for the clueless and even the experienced parent.
  2. Clean up my diet and modify exercise: Full disclosure-I still gained a lot of weight during my first pregnancy, and I’m pretty sure my daughter loves Oreos and mac and cheese because that was her first womb-food! But I did skip coffee, cut way back on processed foods, and stop taking the prescribed pain medications for my back problems. I also modified my exercise routine by skipping my beloved martial arts in favor of swimming, prenatal yoga, and lots of walking. Oh, and Kegels. Don’t forget to do those! I credit my incredibly short labor to the strength of those muscles.
    Cool facts about genetic screening

    Cool facts about genetic screening

  3. Genetic screening: I spend my life around people with wide arrays of genetic disorders. From the groups of physically and mentally disabled library patrons to my wonderful aunt, one of the oldest living women with severe Cystic Fibrosis (CF), I see the varying degrees to which genetic disorders affect people’s lives. This made me want to know exactly what to expect. I was fortunate in that my medical insurance covers genetic screening, though companies like Horizon have payment plans if it wasn’t. It is common for people to be carriers of 4-6 different recessive genetic conditions. If you and your partner are carriers of the same genetic condition, you have a 1 in 4 chance of having an affected child. Knowing this, words can’t describe how much peace of mind the results can bring, not to mention the discoveries are fascinating. I even asked stupid questions like: Is love for Oreos and Kraft Mac actually genetic? You never know what is really in your family tree!
  4. Prepare the nursery: There is no coincidence I started using Pinterest heavily while pregnant. Seriously, nursery preparation is the most fun part! Overkilling on baby gear for your first child is also a must.
  5. Child care: This continues to the toughest part for us. I am a professional and have no intention of leaving the career I love, but of course I struggle daily with the guilt of leaving my beauty with strangers. Add long hours, lack of local family support and the fact that infant care is way different than older child care and the whole decision becomes stressful. I was really happy with the at-home daycare Chuckles had for her first year and am hoping for the same luck with a new baby.

Some people plan in advance to start their families – for some, it’s a big surprise! When you’re thinking about starting your family, your doctor will often ask you about your family history. But did you know there may be surprises in your family tree? Genetic carrier screening can help you make informed reproductive decisions as you start your family. I’m discovering that the decision is no less terrifying the second time around! In fact, knowing “what to expect” may actually make it harder! The checklist from my first pregnancy definitely helps with decision making on the second. Though the decision isn’t officially made, I’m really excited about the next chapter!

*This post was sponsored by Horizon Carrier Screen, but the opinions expressed are my own.


Full of Life

I haven’t been around here much lately. Partially, because I have been working with the wonderful ladies over at Rebel Yell, covering all things geek and entertainment, partially because I have a whole new life and am finding less time, but mostly, and aside from all excuses, I just have too much to say and no knowledge of how to say it all.

Just a fraction of my yard view. Not too shabby!

Just a fraction of my yard view. Not too shabby!

We moved a month ago, out of Orange County and down to Temecula, a beautiful wine country town near San Diego County. We sold our condo in a crazy 3 way escrow process, and traded the tiny place for a huge family home with a beautiful backyard view. No regrets. My job (a slightly higher level librarian position) started two weeks before the move and I lived in a hotel close to work for a bit. We took no time off to move, but we all really love the house and Chuckles’ new preschool. No regrets.

I thought I would miss a lot about my old life, especially now that we’re away from our families and have longer work commutes, but so far I’ve been happier and way, way busier. I have continued freelancing, blogging for my other project, and of course unpacking and settling in is no joke. Did I mention we’re having a birthday party for my daughter, who will be three, and I am slave driving my family to have everything perfect for that day. Super realistic and not at all insane!

Of course, no happiness can go unpunished. My husband’s best friend, the best man at our wedding, died suddenly in his sleep at the ripe old age of 33. We still don’t know what actually happened, except that everyone that knew him is completely heartbroken. The funeral is Monday and I am preparing for it to be one of the hardest days of my life. I can’t even imagine how my husband is feeling.

Less than a week after that, my father was rushed from dental surgery to the hospital after he suffered unconsciousness, seizure and inability to get his heart rate about 35 bpm. He is alright now but still pending an appointment with his cardiologist, not to mention a completion of the oral surgery. He has no top teeth right now! Of course, I make fun of him a lot.

We spent a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend with hubby Joe’s family at his parents’ home in a beautiful, butt-ass freezing (technical term, according to my dad) rural town. Chuckles had the most fun, chasing the dogs along with her cousin who is probably her best friend.

I wasn’t intending such an “about me” post, but I just need to get writing again. What I’m trying to say is that my life is full. Full of everything: Stress, happiness, sorrow and joy. I was always busy in Orange County, but never with so much purpose or extremes. It always felt like a struggle just to stay in the negative holding pattern that was the routine of our lives out there. Our little family has a long way to go, but we’re finding our footing.

I hope to go back to posting here regularly very soon, sharing recipes, home renovation stories and general rants. I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!


Guest Post: Finding Your Voice

“We’re not gonna take it!”

Hello everyone!

I’m not here much anymore, mostly because now I am here, having fun with some great blogging ladies.

Meanwhile, I thought I’d give an aspiring blogger, and big Rebel Mony reader, a chance to find her own voice. I am happy present this, unedited:


Some folks are born to be firemen, doctors, or salesmen.  My path didn’t start out that way.  When I was little I always wanted to be a professional athlete.  I like to think in another life I could have been an Olympic gymnast/softball player, but in the real world I didn’t play organized sports until high school since I could then pay the fees myself.   But that is a story for another day….

I never struggled in school.  I excelled in the classes I detested like English and Social Studies/History.  I didn’t pay much attention in Science, by then I was in the back of the room with the trouble makers, so focus and good grades were not a priority.  Shout out to some stellar parenting I had no push to make something of myself.  I think several teachers wanted to help or saw something that made them try to help – a glimmer maybe??  I had one teacher in particular that pushed me towards a table set out in the hallway with brochures.  They were scholarship applications and a sign up for post-secondary education.

I don’t even know that I fully read the post-secondary application, I just signed up.  When I did read it, I skimmed and got excited, a full year of college free.  Pffft, that was not what got me excited at all, getting out of high school did though.  For those of you that say high school were the best years of your life, yeah I will never understand that, EVER.  I thought high school sucked ass.  I have maybe 3-4 high school acquaintances on Facebook.  I didn’t even rank high enough to get invited to the 10 or even the 20 year reunions.  But here I am off track again!

The decision to go post-secondary put a ton of perspective in my face.  Up front and personal.  It all started with picking a school.  I really wanted to go to Kalamazoo.  Michigan sounded right up my alley, alas then I found out that my high school would indeed pay for tuition but NOT for transportation, room and board, so out of state was not going to happen.  Boooooo.

Back to square one and schools, but only here in Minnesota.  I looked long and hard at the giant catalogs and materials from the University of Minnesota but, hillbilly that I am, I was not prepared for the size of the campus.  Not to mention, the fact that my poor little brain has some major flat spots when it comes to navigation.  And that would be one giant navigational hell.  Dammit!

In the end, I signed up to attend a technical college relatively close to home.  I knew I could get myself to and from the school no problem!  Big win for me.  So I packed up my Volkswagen Beetle and headed to school for orientation.  The gal pushing people through asked if she could help or if I knew what I wanted to do.  (Here I am envisioning the Twisted Sister video and the dad spitting in the kid’s face.  I looked at her with my 17 years of wisdom naiveté and said, “What makes a good salary, is in demand and will always be needed?”  She said, “Legal Secretary.”

Besides a professional athlete (and Mary Lou Retton was my idol) I would have opted for Doctor or Lawyer when I was four or five.  I didn’t know how much schooling or debt was involved, not to mention the horrible hours.  Ish.

Legal Secretary, done.  It was entry level stuff anyhow right?  Having again no experience (real world) I signed up for something like 14 credits right away.  I scheduled classes 9am until 4pm.  This left no time for me to drive to college from my hometown and the one class I had in the morning at high school.  I also neglected to schedule a lunch hour.  Lesson learned!!

The upside was that since I wasn’t paying for these classes and I did sign up for a filing class (I even believe it was mandatory) and I learned the art of skipping fairly quickly.  And I am sorry but Filing well that is a lame ass class.  No offense to anyone that struggles deciphering whether a number should come before a letter.  This was the class I skipped fairly frequently so I could scam lunch off of my aunt who had a daycare nearby.  I would play with my favorite babies and steal mac and cheese, which was waaaay cooler than Filing.

I made a few friends in college and even dated an older guy, not a winner of course, but I can say I learn from my mistakes.  Other revelations that cropped up early on were the fact that “clicks” do not exist in a technical college (I cannot attest to the big frat houses and such).  To think those darned “clicks” have no value or place in the real world.  Huh.

More importantly interpretation of information is different person to person.  If your classes are primarily taught by one instructor and say that instructor sucks you may want to reevaluate your choices.  My classes were primarily taught by one woman who didn’t have the decency to show up on a regular basis.  In fact, I remember clearly she was the Criminal Law teacher and we had all of two tests that determined our grade.  I didn’t know this at the time.  I have a fantastic ability to read and remember.  She said we needed to summarize the Bill of Rights, so I did and I covered each of them with a brief summary.  However, she did not specify that summarizing the Bill of Rights meant covering them VERBATIM as she posted them on the board.  Needless to say, I could have produced her version had I known that was what was required.

I received a D, an actual D!  I was pissed.  I suppose this is also where I learned another valuable lesson, I don’t have to sit by and take that crap.  So all 5’4” of me and my 17 years of wisdom went to the Dean.  I fought hard to have that test and my grade thrown out.  Not only mine but the remainder of the class that struggled to get a decent grade from this woman, her attendance or lack of, materials and lame excuse for a class.  She was gone so often I ended up taking not one, not two, not even three but four finals in an hour.  Now imagine having Ma Fratelli hovering over your shoulder as you scratch out essay after essay answer for four different finals.  Needless to say the D was my final grade.  I don’t know that they ever did anything with that woman but I found my voice and I think it was an important step for me as an adult and an individual.

I have never let anyone keep me down and will always speak up.

Short & Shivery Stories to Tell in the Dark

Short & Shivery

At long last, hello!

I have super exciting news: While I will be around this blog less often, I, along with the fabulous Kristi, formerly of Wine and Sass fame, have started a brand spanking new blog! It’s called Rebel Yell, and we will be focusing on entertainment, including movie reviews, comic book news, celebrity gossip, and whatever else we bad bitches get up to! Check out our efforts so far, and share with your friends: http://www.rebelyellmag.com/

Meanwhile, do you remember “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark?” Those books scared the bejeezus out of me as a kid and actually, they still give me the creeps!

As I now do every year in Rocktober, I tried my hand at writing a few of my own 2-line scary stories, because it’s a real challenge for such a wordy nerd like me to pack a punch into such a short format. I hope you enjoy these, please feel free to share them and add your own!


  • He loved her more than he felt words alone could express. Regardless, he kept trying to express it, every night from outside her window.
  • Though the children were excited to have a new house to trick or treat at, the neighbors found it eerie that nobody lived there before Halloween night nor was anyone ever seen there again.
  • He was more than willing to die for her, if he hadn’t already done so.
  • She was comforted by the feeling of his hand on hers. As she turned to face him, she was less comforted when she found the hand wasn’t attached to his body.
  • As annoying as it was hearing the upstairs neighbors when she lived in the apartment, it was downright frightening to hear those same sounds now that the place was empty.
  • Though he often felt he couldn’t stand to hear her voice anymore, he sometimes regretted bashing her skull in with that shovel.
  • His mind was on her even now that she was six feet under. The sound of her screams as he covered her in dirt were the sweetest gift she’d ever given him.
  • Her hand was so clammy she could hardly stand the feel of it. Or maybe it just felt different to someone who had recently returned from the dead.
  • He wasn’t fond of the whole “killer was already in the house” horror cliché. Watching her, he sighed softly at what she had reduced him to.

See you over at Rebel Yell!

Happy Rocktober!

Welcome to Rocktober

Hey all!

Sorry I’ve been away so long: I’m in intense training for my new job (which I LOVE so far, yay!) and we’re moving in 2 days. Middle of a work week, genius right?

However, my family adores October (we refer to it as Rocktober) and to honor it, I have almost finished coming up with my annual 2 line scary stories, a format made famous by my buddy over at Creepy Little Stories.

In honor of Rocktober, and over 1 year writing this blog, here are last year’s scary stories. I promise you brand spanking new ones ASAP!

  • She woke up to the sound of the faucet leaking again, drip drip drip, but knew everything was alright when she felt the dog lick her hand. She went back to sleep, only to be awakened again by the dog barking to be let inside. (Okay if you know the legend, you can tell it was my inspiration. Still, this sums it up nicely!)
  • “Can you help me?” came the woman’s plea in the dark. The lone person in the room found the interruption quite disturbing. (This was inspired by something that actually happened to Hubby Joe and I on the Queen Mary).
  • “Honey, please take out the trash!” she called, as she saw his shadow come back down the hall. Then she heard footsteps at the back door, and her husband said “did you say something?”
  • The man gave the dog a bone and sent him outside for the night. He appreciated the dog for burying the evidence.
  • He had fallen asleep after yet another fight, while she laid awake rehashing it. Eventually, she put her arms around his back and he turned to her, smiling in the dark, the moonlight glinting off of his  fangs.
  • She drank herself into a stupor, thinking about how much she hated him for doing this to her again. She came to with the knife still in her hand, happy the problem was solved.
  • He reached under the table to stroke his dog, but found her fur was wet. Before he could check, his dog bounded into the room to greet him.
  • Seeing a fin would usually be a relief after snapping a surfboard tether. Unfortunately, this fin coming at him didn’t belong to a board.
  • Tommy’s occasional harassing phone calls to Jane continued, no matter how many times she changed her number or how long he had been dead.
  • Mary learned that TV shows often use pork when depicting dead human flesh. She thought that was strange, and Ted would’ve agreed with her had she not eaten his tongue last week.


Put The Gun Down

I want you to put your gun down.

Just like in every cheesy movie and television show, we need to talk and it can’t happen while you’re waving your gun, or your Second Amendment rights, around.

Just hear me out.

I grew up with guns in my home. Lots of guns. Hunting rifles, police issue handguns, you name it, my dad the avid hunter and cop, probably had it locked in his gun cabinet.

I don’t know exactly what weapons he had, and there never was any real big discussion about how I shouldn’t play with guns. This was implied by guns were locked in a cabinet for which I never knew where the key was kept. The cabinet had an intentionally difficult lock that I probably couldn’t have conquered even if I had the key.

I wouldn’t have tried, either. I was a kid with sense, who was raised right, and knew that it wasn’t my place to mess with those guns. A few times, dad took me to the shooting range and gave me extremely careful, detailed instructions on how to use the guns, which took away any mystique the weapons may have otherwise held.

I realize that I am fortunate not to suffer from whatever inner turmoil that causes humans to feel the need to cut other humans down with guns. I also realize that if two human beings were locked in a room for long enough, without weapons, they would probably try to beat each other to death with their bare hands. This, unfortunately, seems to be human nature.

And I don’t want to take your guns. My father continues to own and enjoy his weapons responsibly, and I do believe in our Second Amendment right to own guns if we choose.

However, I want everyone to be more careful with their guns. I dated a police officer who was very careless with his. Once while at his place, I sat on his gun that was concealed under his jacket. Let me repeat, I was sitting on a loaded gun.

We broke up that night. How could I pursue a relationship with a man who might leave guns around where our future children could get them?

There are two issues here: Mental illness, or whatever stress causes someone the desire to hurt others with a weapon; and the easy availability of guns to those who suffer this way. Yes, people kill people, but with the exception of explosive devises, it would be a lot more difficult to kill as many people with any weapon besides a gun.

Instead of simply making it more difficult for responsible gun owners to make new purchases, and because we will never stop the black market, there needs to be more consequences for gun owners whose weapons are used in illegal ways.

I cannot imagine how hard it would be to face severe mental illness in your children, but as their parent that is your job. No, you can’t “control” someone who is mentally ill and force them to feel or behave any other way, but you sure as shit can keep them from getting into your gun cabinet. Guns need to be treated with the respect they demand as weapons capable of the destruction they are causing, and not like toys to be left lying around.

I am not a lawmaker nor will I sit here and pretend I have this all figured out (so please don’t bother arguing over the politics of this issue on this blog), but we need to at least be talking. Not just talking about the issue on the week the latest mass shooting occurs, but ongoing. We need to demand more from our representatives, and I don’t give a fuck which party you are from. These people are supposed to work for us, and we have a right to demand that some change be made towards ensuring our children don’t get murdered in their classroom, and we aren’t mowed down in a movie theater. My employer trained us on how to survive an active shooter. What would happen if we spent at least as much time preventing these tragedies as we do preparing for them?

Packing #Mommitment to Go



I’ve been wanting to update my #mommitment postings for awhile (if you have no idea what I am talking about, do yourself a favor and check this out). There are so many lovely elements of the movement to share, but I haven’t been feeling super lovely lately. What I’ve been feeling, like too many of us, is stressed, anxious, sad and a little scared.

Our family is in the midst of a three-way escrow between a family buying our home, a man selling us his, and us in the middle. We are moving about an hour and a world (in terms of mindset and lifestyle) away from the place all three of us were born. There are new jobs involved, new schools, sad friends, unhappy family members and lots and lots of drama with the escrow process and all the delicate balance involved.

Anyway, whoa is me and all, moving to my dream home, but the point is being so defeated has pushed back my role in the campaign to end the mom wars.

But then I thought: Mommitment isn’t just about convincing mom’s to stop judging and fighting with each other, it’s also about supporting each other when we are down. And I am very down at the moment. I bet at least one of you is feeling that way too, right this second, for your own reasons.

Instead of metaphorically packing the concept of mommitment to go, I am literally packing this:



What better time, than in this weaker moment, to reach out and say “Hey mom’s, let’s not perpetuate this feeling among ourselves anymore!”?

And when I do move into my beautiful new home, I will unpack this sign, tape it to my mirror, and eventually sit down and write the blog post I meant to, which was all about how I intend to share and grow #mommitment in my new town.

There, I feel a little better already! Now it’s your turn: Take the pledge here.

How Pinterest Are You?


It occurred to me during a text-versation with another mom friend that I might be a bit…Pinterest-y. We were discussing plans for both of our daughter’s birhtday parties and swapping ideas that we had collected from the online idea curating network. My phone autocorrected “crown seals” (as in “princess crown stickers used to seal pink invitations labels”) to “crayon seals,” and my friend wasn’t even phased, simply texting back “Sounds cute.” I only noticed the mistake when I went to respond and stopped to imagine WTF she must’ve thought “crayon seals” meant.

This. She thought I meant this. For a 3 year old’s birthday:

Imave via Honestly WTF

And it hit me: There are levels to this Pinterest shit and, while I think I’m at a perfectly sane, rational Pinterest user level, the fact that a woman who knows me well didn’t bat an eye at the thought that I would be melting crayons into special evnvelope seals for a freakin’ 3 year old’s birthday party  in my spare time gave me reason to rethink my definition of rational.

What I came up with was a test of rational vs. delusion based off how hard one might be Pinteresting. See for yourself where you fall within the Pinterest user spectrum, based on a scale of “What the hell is Pinterest?” to “Of course I make hand melt crayon wax into birthday party invitation seals, after I’ve hand made each crayon to specification from the milk of a newborn goat.”

  1. How long have you had a Pinterest account?

a) I don’t own a computer, smart phone or tablet. My kids learned to write on stone tablets and I power my car with my feet.

b) I actually just got one recently, at the urging of friends, but I haven’t checked it out much.

c) I’ve had one for awhile and use it every so often.

d) I couldn’t read this question because I’ve been staring at my Pinterst page for so long today, the logo is still burned into the back of my retinas.

  1. How often do you use your Pinterest account?

a) I already said I don’t have one. What do I have to do, spell it out for you on my cave wall?

b) I think I logged in sometime last week after the site sent me the “Things you might be interested in” email.

c) I use it often if I have something specific in mind, like a party or new decorating opportunity, but otherwise I might only glance through the feed every few days.

d) I don’t have time for this quiz, I still have 4200 origami cranes to fold for my second cousin’s wedding next week, and then it’s on to bedazzling the 37 straw vests that I finally finished hand weaving yesterday.

  1. What are your main interests when you do use Pinterest?

a) I’m only interested in making fire. Hoping to master the wheel next week because my pedaling feet get awfully tired of powering a car with square tires.

b) Well, according to the “my interests” emails, I use it to look at the paid ads that I can’t avoid and muse over the occasional interesting looking recipe before I move on with my healthy, full life which includes disconnecting from electonics and going outside once in awhile.

c) Fashion, recipes, parties, home décor, but if the instructions look too complicated I will just sigh at my ineptitude and move on.

d) I don’t spend too much time going through my feed, mainly because everything I see I have to do and it leaves little time for daydreaming.

  1. What was your biggest “Pinterest fail?”

a) Not knowing what you’re talking about.

b) Not knowing exactly what that term means because I have a life.

c) I have to pick just one? The time I burned my hair off comes to mind, then there was the time I almost burned the house down over what was supposed to be an easy recipe…Why do all my fails involve fire?

d) I have never failed with my Pinterest attempts! Well, I have, but that’s because failure is just the first attempt before you try something again and again and again…

  1. How honest were you in the taking of this quiz?

a) Go away, newfangle quiz lady.

b) Okay fine, I may have admired a Pinterest project or two that friends have shared on Facebook.

c) Uh, I guess I didn’t mention all the times I’ve failed at Pinterest projects.

d) None. Honesty is right up there with perfection, wand perfection is what we must have at all times.

Quiz results

If you answered mostly A:

Welcome to the Internet! I’m not even sure why you’re here, but we are happy to have you. Let me know if you need assistance turning off your computer (hint: do not smash it with a club).

Mostly B:

I envy you. Seriously. You have the balance of life and technology that really seems ideal. Now go hug a tree.

Mostly C:

Hello there, spirit animal. Welcome to my world of trial, error and more error. Just be careful with Pinterest, it has a way of taking over your life if you’re working on a specific event. Just ask my husband, whom I haven’t seen all week because I presume he’s buried between my mountain of glitter glue and handmade rainbow hors d’oeuvres signs.

Mostly D: 

If your hand still works after all that bedazzled vest weaving, you may want to use it to pour yourself a glass of wine. I would like to set you free and tell you that you can take tonight off from chasing perfection…and tomorrow and the next day as well. Perfection is only pure when it comes at unexpected times, but to get there you have to stop planning so hard and just go with the flow. Of wine. Seriously, go drink some. At very least, your projects will become  more fun!