Things That Happened Here

I brought a baby home to this house, and we spent a month curled up together in the June sunshine on the couch in the living room, wrapped in her pink blanket, falling in love.

I made scones in this kitchen and I finally remembered to put my name on the tray when I dropped them off for the school bake sale and the next day someone said to me “Oh! You made those scones!” and I made a friend.  I decided to be brave, to have a moms breakfast after the first day of school, and I bought too much food and we talked about our families and our weddings and our lives all morning long, that day, in my dining room, until we dragged ourselves away to go pick up our kids.

I broke my thumb ripping up floor boards without checking with Erik  and I chipped travertine off my vintage tile and I painted every room and made an entire chandelier out of waxed paper and pried a mantle off and sanded and stained a new one and I loved this house with my whole heart, and I felt like with everything I did I was whispering: everything will be ok.

I curled up in the backyard of this house, fetal, and said “I think I’m a danger to myself.” And I went to bed early so many times, too many times, in my beautiful bedroom full of sun, praying for sleep, panicked and sick, and prescription bottles lined my windowsill, fourteen and then fifteen and then sixteen, but I breathed and fought and worked myself back to someone who could live life and love many moments of it.  And I always felt so safe in this house, even when sometimes all I wanted to do was run.

Seventeen strangers showed up, eight years ago, and something was created in this house that is one of my most proud things.  Friendships and lifetimes and magic, all born that night, over sesame noodle salad and folding tables, in this house.  And a week later one of those strangers showed up on my door with a latte and became one of my people, and brought birthday parties and brunches and weddings and Christmas dates and ice cream from the carton with spoons and a crappy TBS version of “Dirty Dancing”.

I watched so very very very many episodes of The Vampire Diaries in this house.

Erik and I sat on the couch all night after we said goodbye to Belle, crying and laughing and saying “she was such a good stupid good dog” and then crying again.

I raged and worried and screamed in this house, and I danced in the kitchen, and laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe, and cried and cried and cried, and only some of those times were because I wished so very much that we had a second bathroom.  So many things I am not proud of happened here, and also what happened here were so many of the things I am most proud of in my life.

I grew so many tomatoes in this house, we have figs and lettuce and kale and pomegranates and lemons and oranges and limes and but the tomatoes are my heart, you should know that, I think.

I told a stranger on the internet to watch Peaky Blinders and then I watched every single movie Cillian Murphy ever made, and I absolutely did not accidentally watch “In Time” five times I don’t care what anyone tells you.

I perfected my chocolate chip recipe.  I decided to never eat kale again.  I let my kids lick a thousand beaters.  I drank a thousand cups of tea and didn’t quite finish a thousand glasses of wine, and I shared that look with Erik across the top of a child’s head that you share when you both think something is wrong with your baby and I held Eli down when he fell off the growth chart and shoved yogurt into his mouth lying on this kitchen floor, both of us crying, and in retrospect I really should have finished more of those glasses of wine.

I sent a baby to Preschool and Kindergarten and then suddenly 3rd grade, and then Kindergarten again, so many first day of school pictures on this front porch.

I laughed this afternoon, through hugs and tears, when my neighbor came over to hug me goodbye so she wouldn’t cry in front of Eli and Katie tomorrow.  There was so much crying today but I can’t be sad about this gift I got, this gift of homemade italian grandma spaghetti and a woman who was once a stranger and now says to me that we are like her kids, my children are her grandchildren, in and out of her house, wearing a path into her grass, at home in her home as they are in mine, and I know not everyone gets that, even if those eight years went gone like that, not everyone gets a person that changes their life, a stranger who becomes family, just across a lawn.

We have those same marks on the door frame in the kitchen that I think we all have, a visual record of my children growing up, changing from babies to 3rd graders, right here in this house, from barely walking to refusing to hold my hand on the way into school.  And it’s too small, and it has one bathroom, and the garage should be burned down, and it’s time, and it’s good, but oh.  So very many things happened here.



Jennie Made Me Write This: My Favorite Books of 2015

First of all.  Heeeeeey! What’s up? Its been awhile! It’s cool though, I haven’t done much except drive children back and forth to school and send ten million texts about Cillian Murphy.  Regular stuff.

I promised a certain person I would write this blog post even though I didn’t actually read very many good books this year.  My therapist is very proud of me because I only read 50 something books in 2015.  In 2013 I read over 200 and reading became my retreat from the world.  So I actually had a goal to read LESS and I feel like 50 is a good number.  It’s enough so I’m still doing something I love but not so many that I miss out on life because I’m trying to beat a number.  Anyway.  I am starting a new book blog, I think, because I miss writing and I miss using the word “magnificent” 400 times during my horrible book reviews and I miss you guys.  Should be fun.

Ok.  So these were my favorite books this year.  I am right in the middle of “Among the Ten Thousand Things” but honestly it’s not lighting my pants on fire so who cares.  I also have a big pile of stuff I wish I had read already because maybe it would be on this list, but mediocrity.  It’s what makes all this shit work.

  1. The Girl With All The Gifts.  I suspect everyone already read this book last year but I really enjoyed it.  Fun adventure story, kinda creepy, fast paced.  I recommended it to Erik and he liked it too. Not magnificent but a good time.
  2. Brutal Youth.  Long, crazy, and kind of bizarre.  I really liked it and I find myself thinking about it all the time.  I loved it way more than I thought I would. If you’re not into kind of a violent prep school genre quite as much as I am I’m not sure it would be for you, but I dug it.
  3. Bellweather Rhapsody. This was ALMOST my favorite book of the year.  LOVED LOVED LOVED.  This is just my kind of book.  Interesting, weird, funny.  The first book I was really happy about in 2015.  Definitely magnificent.
  4. A Little Life.  My favorite book of the year.  It changed my life. It’s absolutely on my top books of all time list.  And I can’t really recommend it per se because it is HARD TRIGGERY UPSETTING read, but it is something so special and beautiful and I can’t even explain what a tour de force I thought it was.  I’ve never seen an author write so perfectly about someone’s whole life in just this way.  Epic.  Absolutely the most magnificent of magnificence.
  5. My New American Life.  I assigned myself a project this summer: to read about the American immigrant experience, and this was my favorite book I read.  I still think about it all the time.  I loved Lula, the main character, a whole lot.
  6. Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank To Forget. I took about a thousand pictures of this book while I read it because it was genius on every page. I’m very glad I discovered Sarah Hepola and I need to read all her books.  She is super magnificent.
  7. Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda.  My favorite YAF of the year, recommended to me by Jennie and thank goodness.  I can’t remember being this happy after reading a book maybe ever. I was grinning ear to ear.  This is what Sarah Dessen used to be, with a main character you just adore but also an entire supporting cast of characters you want to know more about and that make you love the world you’re in while you read.  Fantastic, funny, heartbreaking, romantic, amazing.  PRETTY UTTERLY MAGNIFICENT.  Truly.
  8. Kitchens of the Great Midwest.  Probably my third favorite book of the year.  So weird and cool and the ending was very pleasing to me.  My favorite kind of book, with a biting insight into people and how they tick but also strange and fantastical at the same time, and it’s great.  Read it.
  9. Mislaid.  Also kind of weird, but fun?  It didn’t take itself too seriously but I felt like it was written with much love, if that makes any sense.
  10. Slaughterhouse 90210.  This isn’t a novel, more like a mini coffee table book with famous quotes matched up with pictures from pop culture. I thought it was fabulous.  It made me want to watch more TV and read more books and think about how cool the world is.  I bought myself a copy, so there you go.

SOMEONE also requested I rant about my least favorite books, because apparently I have been known to do this? It’s true I do love a good bad book rant. Most of what I read this was just boring or meh but there were a couple real stinkers.  These are those. I’m not linking to this crap, sorry.

  1. Once I was Cool.  Four typos within the first 20 pages. I don’t care how fucking cool you were, hire an editor.
  3. After You.  This is the sequel to Me Before You, and if I could light all the copies of this in the world on fire with the power of my mind, I would.  Seriously.  What a pile of poo. It’s not just that it was awful and predictable and boring and stupid and the characters were uninteresting and just sat around being lame, but the first book was SO GOOD and this just SHITS on it.  I wish I had never even heard of it.  God.  Go away terrible terrible book GO AWAY.



My Favorite Books of 2014; A Dubious List

I’m going to be honest, this is really more like a list of books I disliked the least this year, and it makes me a little nervous because most of these books aren’t on any other best of lists and it stresses me out to recommend books that other people might hate.  But you know, we’re all different, that’s one of the fun things about books.  Some people have “Belzhar” as THEIR FAVORITE BOOK OF THE YEAR, while I’m still thinking about standing next to it at the library and slowly shaking my head no at anyone who tries to check it out.

Here’s to next year, right?

1. The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry

a j fikry

This was lovely. I thought it would be terrible, it was not. Sad and funny and beautifully plotted and great. Read it.

2. Lucky Us*

lucky us

This is one of those books that really sticks with you.  It wasn’t perfect, and it’s not super high on the feel good meter, but I still really liked it. Jennie Canzoneri, I predict you hate this and tell me it’s boring, so fair warning.

3. Fallout*

fall out

This was one of those very Britishy drama chick lit type of books.  I found it quite enjoyable. If you liked “One Day” I predict you would like this.

4. Off Course*

off course

This was a strange little quiet book, but I loved the vibe.  I’m trying to think what to compare it to. Something about it reminded me of “Wild”, but don’t go hating it when it doesn’t turn out to be “Wild 2”.

5. Thank You For Your Service

thank you

Heartbreaking, interesting, intense, really really great. Best non-fiction of the year.

6. How to Love

how to love

My favorite YAF book of the year. It reminds me of romantic comedies, how the difference between a great one and a terrible one seems so small but actually you’re talking about the difference between “When Harry Met Sally” and “The Vow” and it’s SO easy to really make a bad one and shockingly hard to make a really good one but when you do it WORKS so well and it’s great and becomes so much more than “just” a romantic comedy.  That’s how this book is. It’s not a comedy, but it’s an example of a cliched genre done really really well.

7. Young God

young god

This was my “holy shit that was hard to read but it’s not like anything else out there, that’s for sure” book of the year. I would love to read this for a book group because it’s the kind of thing I want to talk about afterwards with everyone I know. It was a hard book to read and it was DARK DARK DARK but it was not NOTHING, if that makes sense.

8. How to Build a Girl

how to build a girl

My favorite book of the year.  This passage? It still gives me thrills every time I read it.

“John, he was not a beautiful boy, nor a tall one.  He was round, like a barrel, in a shabby brown suit-and his hair was neither one color nor the other.  His face was slightly crushed, and his hands shook a lot for a man of twenty-four–although, as he put it later, “In dog years, my liver is sixty-eight.” But when the wind blew in on the street corner, you could see his heart beat under his shirt, and when the conversation accelerated, you could see his mind chime, like a clock.  He was bright bright bright, like the lantern above a pub door in November–he made you want to come in and never leave.”

People have said, in criticism, “oh, this isn’t a genuine voice for a teenage girl,blah blah blah.” Don’t care. Loved every word.

9. Althea & Oliver

althea and oliver

This was very nicely written. I enjoyed the voice of the author and the female main character and it was different from 99% of the other YAF I was subjected to this year. It felt very fresh and new.

10. Station Eleven

station eleven

Excellent. Probably my third favorite book of the year behind “How to Build a Girl” and “How to Love”. I wish it had been longer, for a change. This the best storytelling I read this year, a good quick creepy read.

*Had I read less utter poo this year, these three books would probably be on my runner up list. 

Books I Read In August, September, October, November, and December 2014

Well, this was either a bad year for books or else I no longer like books. Quite frankly I’d be astonished if I am actually able to come up with 10 favorites for my year end post. On the plus side I watched a lot of good TV, so you know. The circle of life! Except not really. (PS Who cares about books! Watch Peaky Blinders! Do it now!  #teamtommyshelby)

Anyway, here’s what I read:

64. The Vacationers by Emma Straub

the vacationers

I didn’t hate this, and it had some good moments, but several of these characters were of the “I’ll make these people interesting by making them incredibly awful” type of characters and I am well and truly done with that literary trope.

65. The Fever

the fever

This was legit terrible.

66. Station Eleven

station eleven

I loved this. It felt very spare and interesting and creepy.  Totally recommend. I told Erik to read it, which doesn’t happen very often. PS if you’re not into “almost all of us die of the flu” then maybe this isn’t for you.

67. This Dark Road to Mercy

this dark road to mercy

This was well written but it didn’t hold my attention. I kept having to make myself read it and then I’d fall asleep two pages later.

68. All the Light We Cannot See

all the light we cannot see

I wanted to love this, it was absolutely beautifully written, but it was FIVE HUNDRED AND THIRTY ONE PAGES LONG. I’m starting to think I just don’t enjoy any books that are that long. It’s just too fricking long.

69. The Children Act

the children act

The first half was fine, the second half ruined it.

70. The Book of Unknown Americans

the book of unknown americans

This was on a ton of “best of 2014 lists”  but to me it read like one giant ethnic cliche.

71. Belzhar


This may be the worst book I read all year.  Holy goodnight did I hate this book. If it wasn’t a library book I would have lit it on fire in my front yard.

72. Barracuda


This was well written, but the main character was just so awful I only made it 311 pages in before I gave up.  Again, 448 pages? No. Can’t do it. Sorry.

73. Blue Lily, Lily Blue (The Raven Cycle, Book #3)

blue lily blue lily

This series was originally supposed to be three books, she decided to make it four. I think you could tell in this book.  It was fine, but it felt like filler.

74. Althea & Oliver

althea and oliver

I liked this book. There’s a scene that gave the Goodreads reviewers fits of rage, but I didn’t have that issue with it. I really liked the character of Althea a lot, she felt like an original voice in a sea of crap.

75. How to Build A Girl

how to build a girl

This was my favorite book of the year. I loved it with every fiber of my being.  It was filthy and dirty and rude and at the same time so beautiful I took instagrams of my favorite passages.  I can’t wait to reread it.  I have heard it’s quite derivative of her memoir, but I haven’t read that, so I wouldn’t know. All I know is I loved it and I’m so glad I read it and if I ever wrote a book I would want it to be just like this.

76. Famous In Love

famous in love

This was your average mindless YAF. It was perfectly good for wasting an afternoon but I wouldn’t recommend it, probably. I did love the last line of the dedication, to Katie and Josh.  ALL THE FEELINGS I LOVE YOU PACEY WITTER.

77. Everything I Never Told You

everythink I never told you

This was beautiful and heartbreaking but these people were SO MISERABLE.  Ugh.

78. 100 Sideways Miles

100 sideways miles

Everyone loved this but me. I felt like it was beating me over the head with how cool it was at every turn. Quit trying to make fetch happen, book.

79. Fourth of July Creek

fourth of july creek

Dear god this WAS SO EFFING LONG. I think I liked this, but by page 415 I just wanted it all to end. I might make 2015 the year I just put the put the book back in the “DNR” pile if it’s over 350 pages long.  I’m over it.

Shit, I really need to read one more book! 80 is such a nice round number! I have five days! I can do it!

Best Books of 2014 post coming up sometime soon, promise. It might be two books long though, fair warning.

Good Parenting

I’ve been mulling over this blog post for a long time, but every time I sat down to write it I’d be overcome with a grand sense of meh and I’d bail out.  Recently some of my ladies on Twitter reminded me that sometimes we write things for ourselves and then they help other people, so while I would not presume anything so grandiose as that about these words, I still thought I’d put it out there on the off chance that someone else needs to read this, today, someday, sometime.

Do you remember when I wrote this post about being a good person, and how I didn’t think I was one?  A lot of you lovely people left comments to the effect of “Well, you’re raising young children, and that’s an important contribution to the world.” There were so many comments along those lines, in fact, that I almost edited the post to add “By the way, in case you weren’t aware, I’m an absolutely TERRIBLE parent, so we can’t be counting that as something that makes me a good person.” but I never got around to it.

The next time I went to therapy, though, I started to bring up that blog post, to tell my therapist about how I had realized that I’m not a good person and about all the things that I thought I would do to improve, about all the ways I had figured out how to be a good person.  It never occurred to me that she wouldn’t nod vigorously, agree with me about how terrible I was, and then be proud of me for working on it.

Instead, she cocked her head, squinted at me, and said “Woah, woah, woah.  You’re not a good person? What on earth are you talking about? You are raising young children! You’re a wonderful mother to a high needs child! Seriously, WHAT are you talking about?!”.

And that is when it all began to unfurl.

When I brought out my dark beliefs about what a bad mother I was, when I spoke them into the light, when a sane and rational and loving person who I trust and respect looked back at me in astonishment, something in me woke up, or broke open, or let go.  I’m not sure.  I only know that all this time, that idea, the idea that I was doing SUCH A BAD JOB at parenting my son, was somehow at the very core of me, and had become intrinsic to who I thought I was.

So this is where it started.  When I first started therapy, I would declare over and over that I had no earthly idea what was making me so anxious.  I honestly could not figure it out.  But the more my therapist heard about my life, and the more I talked, the more she squinted at me and gave me the “huh” face I’ve come to know and love, and eventually the “huh” face morphed into specific questions and eventually we moved into “Ok, dude, seriously, Eli has ADHD. Like not a little ADHD,  Big time ADHD. You need to get that kid evaluated because he’s making you nuts.”

So it turns out that yes, spoiler alert, Eli does have ADHD. Despite the fact that he would never nurse for more than five minutes at a go (MY FAULT BAD MOTHER), that he can’t focus on anything for any amount of time (MY FAULT BAD MOTHER), that we’ve been fighting with him to get dressed for SEVEN LONG YEARS and it never got any better no matter how much we yelled or begged or screamed (MY FAULT BAD MOTHER), despite all those things, we never suspected ADHD.  Part of this is because I’m not a very self aware person and apparently that extends to my children as well.  Part of that is because I’m an asshole and I always assume that common ailments like reflux and celiac disease and ADHD are things other people’s children get, but obviously not MY children, ha ha no of course not.  Part of that is because we’ve never heard so much as a peep from a teacher, a camp counselor, any authority figure ever, which is pretty unusual for kids with ADHD.  When I asked his first grade teacher to fill out the ADHD assessment questionnaire, she asked if he was being used as the normative because he did not, under any circumstances, have ADHD.  (We are still figuring out why this is, but we think it’s a combination of Eli being a smart kiddo, his early diagnosis, and the fact that he’s very compliant with authority figures and a has a little edge of anxiety to his ADHD.)

We are lucky to live within spitting distance of a world renowned center for neurodevelopmental disorders.  Eli was evaluated, and evaluated again, and when we went to talk to the psychologist who did the second test, she said “You know, some kids walk in that door and I’m not sure.  We have to do multiple days of multiple tests and I’m still iffy.  Eli walked in that door, and I knew.  He has ADHD, and not a little bit of ADHD.  Big, huge, MEGA BIG TIME ADHD. And he needs help.” (It should be noted that she also described him as handsome and incredibly charming, so she can stay.)

So what does this mean? Well, it means lots of things. It means, first and foremost, that, maybe, just maybe, I am not a bad mother. I am a mother who is perhaps, yes, easily stressed, but who is also dealing with a kid who has had a 20 minute meltdown over getting dressed every morning of the past eight years.  MAYBE IT IS NOT ALL MY FAULT PRAISE JESUS.

It also means that’s it’s not Eli’s fault.  He’s not doing this on purpose to be a little shit, despite how much it feels like that.  His brain works differently than mine, he learns things so slowly, he is trying his best, the world is a A LOT, he is four years behind a 2nd grade girl when it comes to impulse control, he has no executive function, it’s a different world inside that little head.

It also means we are doing a lot of work, and by we, I mostly mean me.  There are doctors appointments and stacks of books to read.  There are endless behavior modifications and therapies and parents support groups and binders full of notes and education classes and workshops and jars of buttons. There are slow improvements and really bad days mixed into the good days we are finally getting.  There are prescriptions to try and try over again and tweak and worry over.  There’s the hard shell you grow when people tell you that ADHD is caused by food allergies or ADHD is so overdiagnosed these days and we just need to let be kids be kids.  There’s the sinking feeling that if teachers don’t see it and camp counselors shake their heads no to questions that it must just be his awful parents who are unable to deal with normal children. His father is a rock and the best human I know but also very busy at work and not able to go to support groups at 10 am on Tuesdays because someone has to bring home the bacon and perhaps Erik is also not the most skilled at implementing a consistent, reliable behavior modifications plan. So it’s a lot of work for me.  So much work. So very very much hard work.

Most of all, though, it’s a breath out. It’s realizing that after three weeks of Ritalin, my child doesn’t go the bathroom 40 times a day anymore, that maybe his father and I didn’t give him a one two punch of anxiety and ADHD. It’s realizing that finally, finally, finally, I LIKE my wonderful, beautiful, smart, funny, amazing, handsome charming boy.  It’s cuddling up next to him while we both read books.  It’s a kid who can finally sort of almost always get himself dressed, thanks to medication and a reward system and laminated checklists and a visual timer and clothes set out the night before and and and.  Have I mentioned how much work this? It is a lot of work.

Please know, though, that I’d do it all over again for this boy. I’d do four times, ten times, a million times the amount of work. I’ll do whatever it takes.  Eli and I, we’re in this together.  I love both my children with my whole and unfettered heart but sometimes I look down at Katie and think “Woah. Who the heck are you and where did you come from?” When I look at Eli I think “Yep. I know you. I get it. I got it.” From that first moment I saw those two lines to those weeks we waited to find out if his father was also a cystic fibrosis carrier and I talked through those panicky days with the boy in my tummy, to when he wouldn’t grow and I would hold him down and shove yogurt in his mouth, to our days now, our days of visual timers and ritalin and pediatric neurologists, he’s always been my special little guy, together with me against the world, and nothing’s ever gonna change that.  I do not always do the best job, but I am trying really really hard, and while I am absolutely sure I am very far from the best mom the world has ever known, I’m starting to really believe, for the first time, that for this kid, for my boy, I may actually be the best mom there is.

My Top Ten (Ish): Favorite TV Shows of All Time

So SOMEONE has horrendous inexplicable crippling anxiety every day from 1:00 PM to 2:30 PM. (GUESS WHAT THAT SOMEONE IS ME.) Myy therapist and I are working on it but it suuuuuuucks and it’s getting really super old really super fast and so in thinking of ways to distract myself from the suck I thought maybe I would write.  Please enjoy the yammering.

Talking to people about their favorite tv shows never gets old for me. It’s such an interesting way to figure out so much about a person so quickly. Anyway, here are mine.  I hope you enjoy this trip through every TV show the CW has ever made.

1. Buffy


This will always always always be my number one favorite tv show of all time.  I watched it as it aired starting with the second episode  (which I was sure I would hate because it sounded TERRIBLE) and Buffy was the first time I really knew what it was to love a tv show with your whole heart, what is was like to live from one Tuesday night to the next, to Google for spoilers (did we have Google? I can’t remember), to be consumed by television.  It was so smart and funny and different and girl kick assy, and I loved every single smart funny girl kick ass minute of it, although anything after the Angel spinoff doesn’t have my heart the way the first five seasons do.  But seriously. I had the cropped t shirt, the yearbook, the bumper sticker, and waaaaaay after I didn’t own a VCR I had VHS tapes of every episode.  Man did I love that show.  I am not ashamed to say because of how and when I watched it, it’s an actual part of who I am, wired into my being. In some weird way Buffy and Xander and Cordelia and Willow and Giles and Angel and Oz were my first family that wasn’t my actual family.

2. The Wire


I don’t think that this whole series is quite as even as one might wish but I consider Season One and Two of the Wire to be some of the finest television ever made.  It hit right to the core of me.  I can’t think of anything else that has gotten to me quite like this show did, it’s amazing television. Heartbreaking and otherworldly and eye opening and like nothing before or after.

3. Battlestar Galactica


Erik made me watch this show from the beginning after he’d already seen a few seasons and I was VERY resistant and I wasn’t really feeling the first few episodes and then I fell HARD.  HARD. Even though it seems like spaceships and sci fi and weird future hoo ha, at its heart, BSG is actually a love story, and you’ll never find anyone who falls for epic fantasy love stories the way I do.  Let’s all just be happy I didn’t name my daughter Starbuck because it was a legitimate possibility.

4. Felicity


There will be never be another TV boyfriend for me quite like my TV boyfriend Ben Covington. To this day I have all the feelings when I watch this clip.

NO ITS A TIME MACHINE. I mean…I could rewatch this series twice a year every year and never grow tired of it. EXCEPT FOR JULIE UGH. Also, my husband refers to Keri Russell as “an american treasure” at least three times a day, and yeah, he’s not wrong.  Her and Ben Covington. America’s Finest.

5. My So Called Life


The first time this show ran, I didn’t much care for it, not sure why.  Then I watched it a few years later during one of its many airings on MTV and damn. It just gets everything so RIGHT. The mom is so annoying and friends are so difficult and confusing and it’s so hard to do the right thing and boys are completely awful and SO HOT WHEN THEY LEAN and people are flawed and everything is so very well understood and reflected back to us so beautifully. I still consider this to be perhaps the most perfect scene in television history:  Also, Jordan Catalano is my other TV boyfriend, just in case Ben Covington doesn’t work out.  The leaning, people.  The leaning.

6. Dawson’s Creek

dawson's creek

He bought her a wall.  Enough said.

I believe that sometime during the 90’s there was a glorious period when you could watch Buffy, Felicity, Dawson’s Creek, and maybe that Roswell show, all in the same week? AND IT WAS THE BEST TIME THAT ANYONE EVER LIVED.

7. The Cosby Show

the cosby show

This was the first show my mom let us watch after my parents got divorced. Previous to that we didn’t own a television and we ate spelt and did math for entertainment.  It will always be my television comfort food, and I am not ashamed to admit that I consider Cliff and Claire to be my life role models for parents and general married people.  Is there a greater woman than Claire Huxtable? No, no there’s not. There’s just not, and there never has been and never will be.

8. Veronica Mars

veronica mars

I never grow tired of this show.  Kristen Bell is just utterly wonderful in every way.

9. Girls and Sex and the City


I am counting this as one number because Girls! Shoes! Clothes! Funny things! Despite the two ragingly bad movies inflicted on us, I loved SATC with every fiber of my being and I would watch Carrie wear Manolos she can’t actually afford any day of the week.  And Lena Dunham is just amazing and I continue to thoroughly enjoy watching girls wear crazy clothes and kiss boys and eat cupcakes, because that’s my favorite thing.

10. The Vampire Diaries


Somehow I didn’t start watching this show until this summer, when I watched all five seasons in under a month. I thought Erik was going to make me go to Vampire Diaries marriage counseling but seriously I COULD NOT STOP WATCHING. It’s SO good. It’s SO Elizabeth. I have SO many inappropriate feelings about Damon Salvatore.  It’s every thing I love in television.  Bad boys, pretty makeup, funny writers, fog machines, SO MUCH BROODING I LOVE IT SO MUCH.  It’s legitimately my favorite thing in a long long time.  Jennie and I watch the new season “together” while we text back and forth nonsensical things about Steven R. McQueen and his abs and seriously I look forward to Thursday nights all week.  GOD I LOVE THIS SHOW HASHTAG DELENA FOREVER.

11. FNL

friday night lights

This is why this list is 10 ish, because LOOK AT THAT PICTURE I MEAN JUST LOOK AT IT because COME ON TIM RIGGINS IS THE HOTTEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED.  Also Tami Taylor. Also Tami Taylor’s hair. Also Coach Taylor.  Also Lyla Garrity.  Also Landry and Tyra and the scene where she says that she “had enough hate in her heart to start a car” which is now and always will be my everything.

Ok, so this will seem like one of those rotten questions that people ask at the end of blog posts just to fish for blog comments like “How often do you eat dessert? Do you usually eat it after dinner like I do?” but I promise it’s not, so please ignore me if you want, but now that you know that I have the supreme best taste in television in the history of time the taste of a 12 year old girl, is there something else I should be watching? Please let me know because the jury is still seriously out on “Arrow” and I am still so mad at “The Good Wife” that I can’t talk about it.

What I Wore: It’s Too Hot For This Nonsense

Ugh it’s too hot for me to even be eloquent about how too hot it is. I am so done with 95 degrees. So done!

Whatever. I’m just going to wear the same four dresses until it cools down or we all drown due to the rise in global sea level, whichever is first.


Oooh, I loved this. Come back to me, 70 something degrees.

Get yourself some gray booties, really.  And a sweatshirt moto jacket. Also you can’t really see it but I am also wearing the J. Crew Factory Claire Cardigan because I had a sudden need to get a green cardigan in my life RIGHT NOW and it’s quite useful for throwing on over things.  Although it is shortish so it may be more of an over dresses cardigan than an over jeans cardigan.

DSC_0143-001 DSC_0213-001

This is SUCH a good dress.  I adore it.  I needed a dress for a wedding this summer and I finally got smart and decided I’d try to buy one that I could wear more than just one time to a wedding and then never again! I am a genius.  Anyway, this dress is magical and you can totally wedding it up or wear it to preschool drop off. I think next time I might try a belt and a gold necklace. It’s from Anthropologie, but in June, so no longer online, sadness, etc.


This is your standard “I’m just wearing shorts and some tanks but I threw a scarf over it so now I’m a fancy lady” outfit. Shorts are the J. Crew Factory Bermudas, they’re basically the only shorts I bother with anymore.


Here is the Claire Cardigan again.  Throw it over your pajama dress, add a tassel necklace, bingo. Done.


I was hoping this look would convey “Please don’t show up to my ADHD Parent Support Group half an hour late and then tell everyone that ADHD is caused by dairy allergies or I will hunt you down and kill you”, but it didn’t get the job done.  And that’s all I’ll say about that, besides the fact that this dress is from Old Navy and it is EXCELLENT and you should buy one.  Oh, and here is last week’s stripey dress which I incorrectly linked to which you should also buy.  And then you should wear it with your green Claire Cardigan.


Eli picked this scarf out.  I can only assume he’s the next Gianni Versace.  Hopefully with less murderyness though.  Also I am about to compose a STRONGLY WORDED LETTER regarding summer dresses with sleeves and the lack thereof in many retail establishments. I just have to decide if I should mail it to Michelle or Barack.  Because seriously, this is a problem.


Despite its lady area bulls-eye flower, this dress has been well worth the $8 I paid for it at Ross.  I always get compliments on it and it’s basically fancy pajamas, so that’s a win.


The Target cocoon cardigans and I are going to run away to Mexico together.  Also this dress (the Lands’ End Fit & Flare), it’s fine.  You have to really be careful or it’s a fast ticket to Frump City, and nobody wants to get on that train. I mean, not like that. God. Get your mind out of the gutter.  Although it’s true.  Whatever. Move on people!