by Beth Woolsey -

Sometimes My Naked Butt Surprises Even Me… Isn’t Really What This Post Is About

Sometimes I run away to escape my family and write, write, write. Tonight is one of those nights, so here I sit at one of my favorite local spots — reopened after a fire — drinking an IPA, which I’ve recently come to enjoy because, I assume, 2016-Present has numbed me to bitterness and I can swallow more than I did before. 

The folks next to me at the bar are talking about the Sicilian mafia, how many bottles of wine fit in the sink of an RV (consensus = five), and their abiding desire for more bread, and I’m trying to decide what point is appropriate to introduce myself as their new best friend. Meanwhile, the bartender is alternating between describing ube, a purple yam from Southeast Asia, and decrying the state of the beer taps which are too full of air and dispensing too much foam this evening. I want to be all, “THE BEER IS DOING THE BEST IT CAN, MAN. LET’S GIVE IT SOME CREDIT FOR TRYING IN THE MIDST OF CHALLENGING TIMES,” but I might be projecting the tiniest bit, so I decided to leave the bartender alone.   ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

My Christmas Isn’t Going According to Plan — How You Doin’?

I have to type this fast before my kid throws up again.

I should be using my time to make cinnamon rolls since Christmas is tomorrow, but cinnamon rolls require standing, and OMG I JUST WANT TO SIT A MINUTE.

Our Christmas isn’t going according to plan.

It’s OK. Truly. I’ve been doing this parenting gig long enough that I can flex with change like a ninja. Like a superhero who can slow time to dodge machine gun fire. Like a contortionist-turned-master-thief avoiding the impenetrable grid of laser beams in the private bank vault of the nefarious (but unbelievably hot) villain. Change of plans? Yippee ki yay, mother effer. Do your worst. ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

To My Pontiac Who Saved a Person I Love: Thank You for Your Service

Do you ever wonder what a car sees? The things to which a good car bears witness? 

Tiny humans moving from infant carriers to car seats to boosters.

Potty accidents and coffee spills.

Singing and laughing and playing. And screaming and tears and the quiet of grief.

Windows rolled down while the radio blasts. Ice cream drips and gummy bears that melt in the inferno of summer. ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

Rebrewing Coffee: A Brief Cautionary Tale

In a grand fit of laziness or misguided frugality this morning, I decided I could rebrew my coffee grounds from yesterday. I figured tea leaves are good for more than one cup (although I feel certain there are Tea Afficionados out there who will set me straight), therefore, why not coffee?

IMPORTANT: You cannot brew coffee grounds twice.

You can’t.

Truly. ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

Happy Inertia Day!

Happy Inertia Day, friends!

If you didn’t know that was a thing, SURPRISE! I invented it this very day, and I shall henceforth celebrate it whenever I can’t get off my butt to get things done.

I was inspired by literally nothing, which is what I’ve accomplished so far today. Oh, I have Stuff to Do. I have a Lengthy List. I have the Usual Chores plus all the Holiday Extras. What I seem to lack, however, is Oomph.  ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

I haven’t pooped my closet for, like, a really long time. Greg gave me a trophy. In other words, Greg + Beth 4Ever. True Love Always.

Folks, if you have a partner to flirt with, might I recommend you take a page out of Greg’s book and gift your significant other a personalized trophy?

Look, no one on Planet Earth doesn’t want to be recognized for their fine work. Or, without the double negative, All the People want to know they’re doing a good job. Yes? Yes. Of course, yes. Which is why a trophy is the perfect medium for appreciation. It’s an award. It’s a forever keepsake. And, personalized appropriately, it shows how well the giver knows you. How deeply you’re seen. How well you’re understood and valued. ...  read more