“How to talk to little girls”: A Variation

I recently skimmed over an article similar to this and though I think the basic premise is good, I disagree with a basic sentiment. So here’s my version.

Children are individuals. They are people. Little people, yes, but people. We need to begin treating them as such. Here’s how: Continue reading



Some part of me associates the Welsh Singer Jem with the farscape character Jool. So in my mind this:

equals this:

Yeah, I don’t quite get it either.

Spring Fixins

So I have a super cool couch. It’s an L-shape with a snazzy ottoman and it’s as large as a full sized bed when all laid out. I’ve made a habit of taking the removable covers off every now and then and throwing them in the wash. Not just because it gets them clean, but also because it makes the whole couch seem nice and even and even looks more comfy. . . at least I think so. 😉

But there was one single problem with my couch. The couch-makers sewed the ottoman together all wrong. It looked something like this when I explored the stitch work: the top upholstery part was sewn directly to the leather and then the lining was sewn to the bottom of the leather base so if you looked at it cut out it looked like this: upholstery, leather, lining. Which is basically like saying top, bottom, middle. See the lining should have been sewn to the upholstery so it could be washed too. To make things even better, the leather is actually tacked on to the ottoman by both upholstery staples and the four feet that hold it up. Designed by a genius, I swear.

So what did I do to remedy this? I tore it apart, naturally.  Continue reading

Fashion Done Right

This is not a post telling you what to wear. This is not an explanation of which colors go with what others. This is not a quiz to find out your body shape and what item of clothing you should wear depending on it.

This, ladies and gents, is a round of applause for designers that know what they’re doing in all aspects their trade. Continue reading

On Spiders

As a child, I was never really *scared* of spiders. I was fascinated by them. I never wanted to touch them (spiders are icky and gross), but I would watch them and follow them and always observed some form of intelligence in them. When I felt really brave, I would try to tempt one onto a twig.

And then someone showed me a picture of one up close. And I saw all of those eyes. Those beady little eyes staring back at me. Marking my every move. Noting my attentiveness to their motions. Watching me.

And that’s when I decided that all spiders must die.

You see there’s this thing called the uncanny valley. The graph will probably help you understand this concept if you’re not familiar with it. The idea is that when things are made more and more human like, there is a point before they actually look (or act) human called the uncanny valley. Corpses, ventriloquist dummies, and human-like robots all tend to be placed in the valley because rather than being familiar and comfortable, they’re just creepy and strange.

Now I know what you’re wondering: Denise, spiders don’t look like humans at all. In fact, not even close. Why on earth do you place them in the uncanny valley?

The answer is quite simple: Eeeeeeeeew I can't look at 'em!

Look at ’em. Staring at you. You know this spider is planning your demise. Now does a spider look like a human? No, of course not, that’d be silly. But their eyes could easily convince me that these little creatures have some form of consciousness and that they’re out to get us. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if the entire spider race is actually conscious and morally evil. It would explain so much. Like why they watch us while we sleep and follow us around the house. Evil, pesky little things.

And that, ladies and gents, is why spiders are evil, kinda human-like, and deserve to die.


In about a week or so I’m going to make my first vlog, as soon as this moving nonesense is taken care of. And I’m going to vlog (that’s video-blog, for those of you old farts) about the mother fuckin MVA. Now, normally I try to keep my language classy on this blog, but there’s just nothing classy about the MVA. I don’t feel the need to put that extra umph of vocabulary into anything about the MVA, because let’s be realistic: when you know you need to go to the MVA, the first thing that comes into your mind is “oh fuck”. Whether you say it or not.

So yes. Soon to come. I still love you all. I’m still thinking of witty things to say and type and share, and I promise I haven’t forgotten this rarely visited irl in the blogosphere. Just the crazy busy crap as usual. Anywho, cheerio-pip-pip until time is had to write a bit more.

Friendship done Right

I have a handful of “best” friends. They are people I consider family, and whom I treat as such. I love them with every fiber of my being and am confident that they hold similar opinions of me. But one of my best friends stands out from the others in a very unique way. We’ll call him Bob.

Bob and I have known each other for at least 8 years. We became friends slowly, and to this day if you ask either of us how we became friends, neither of us knows how. Oh, we have our theories to be sure, but we’re not really positive just how it happened. It’s not that we don’t remember interactions with each other from that long ago, though the memories are distant. It’s that, by all accounts, it just doesn’t make sense. Our interests are pretty different, though the overlap here and there and for some time our practical moral stances were quite different. We lived at literally opposite ends of the country soon after becoming “friends” and now we only see each other in person about twice a year; and that’s a good year.

Yet he is closer than a brother to me. We have been there for each other during the 4am phone calls, the family problems, the relationship disasters, likewise through the jokes, the drunk dials, and some of the best times of our lives. As rare as face-to-face interactions are, we keep in touch and both benefit from a very healthy friendship, one uniquely unlike my others.

And for some time I’ve been trying to figure out why. Why is it that in my friendship with Bob we manage to be such good friends, even though so many factors seem to work counter to that result.

And then it hit me: the reason we maintain such a functional friendship is because we do not base our friendship upon obligation. From very early on we both understood, without needing to formally establish, that being friends does not automatically make us obligated to one another. Over the years, we watched other friendships come and go, at times losing most close friends. But our friendship maintained a healthy, functional growing rate. “How does it work?” you may ask. It works by not getting angry because you haven’t gotten a phone call in three months. It works by not maintaining an obligation based mindset that claims that your friendship is conditional. We shared experience when we decided to do so of our own volition. I chose to answer my phone at 4am. He chose if and when to call me back. And both of us have lost dear friendships because other people did not understand the functionality of such an arrangement.

This past evening my husband and I visited with this dear friend of mine, and he is doing exceptionally well. We have truly watched each other learn and mature through the years. Speaking with him is still as easy as it was so long ago, and interactions in person are just as comfortable and entertaining. And we still hold a friendship on self-volition. He did not get angry when I did not contact him for almost a year due to an abusive relationship. I did not get angry when he did not contact me for months while deployed. We missed each other, but there was no hostility due to a lack of communication.

Thus I give you readers an example of how very functional relationships can be when they are not formed around obligation. Most relationships are like this. Relationships with family and friends. The only relationship that merits any obligation is that of a husband and wife, for they have sworn obligation to each other.