42 People Who Need a Stern Talkin-To (Who Aren’t named Hope Solo)

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He gets just enough of the save to keep the match level!

I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore.

Well, okay. I’m not happy. I noticed Hopey Solo – I mean, Hope – trending on Twitter the other night. That can’t be good, I thought. And it wasn’t. Turns out, Boo got suspended for six months for mouthing off after a shootout loss to Sweden in the World Cup.

The USWNT also terminated her contract. She called the Swedes “cowards” for their conservative tactics in a tied match against the U.S. I disagree with her. In my eyes, Sweden played legal tactics that give them the best chance at winning.

Hope’s diatribe was only words. No mammals were traumatized. Amphibians either. It might have lacked class, but Hope responded honestly to a question.

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Go Ask Daddy about baby multiples, mustache machinations and the trappings of a finicky existence

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You gotta be joking …

This week has given me new news to hate and reminders of old news that I still hate.

GAD GRAPHICSo extensive is my disdain for the decision to suspend USWNT goalkeeper Hope Solo for six months – and terminate her contract – that I rattled off a topper to this week’s Go Ask Daddy in defense.

I started to bang out a list of people who deserve harsh words more than Hopey.

I got to 35, and saw the word count bulge to 600+ – and I hadn’t even gotten to my kids’ questions! I contained all the vitriol, and will continue the thought for Monday’s post. You’ve been warned.

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No Guest Post Here. How’s About 10 More Random Smartphone Photos?

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Who just went 2.7 seconds on a parrot named Fumanchu?

Another week, another guest post lost.

My inbox contains buried treasure. In it, correspondence from friends far and near. Agreements to guest post. Inquiries into soccer teams. Catch-ups, and rundowns. It’s tons better than anything found in Al Capone’s vault, even.

I’m getting closer to taking up shovels and those little whisky brushes like Indiana Jones.

I hope when I return to emails I’ve yet to return, you haven’t given up on me. I’m coming around, I promise. It’s not a brushoff – rather, you’re swept up in a convex twister than relies on randomality and the universe to sit you front and center.

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Here’s Hoping My Girls Have Friends Like This

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Sisterhood can be a twisty thing. But it’s mostly illuminating.

I have three daughters.

I want much for them. Peace, not a pampered path. Purpose, not existence in pretend. Experiences, not empty days when the moon rises and sets without peace and purpose. I want to drive them places they want me to take them.

I want also for them to venture into places I am not.

The influence and support they’ll have from their parents will never cease. What of those times when she’s chosen to play on a new team, in a far-off park? When she’s on a stage somewhere I am not, rehearsing and projecting?

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Go Ask Daddy About Prehistoric Kids, Noble Research and the Art of Antagonizing

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What happens between a Stormtrooper and a green bone shouldn’t be told outside of the stove top.

It took a while before my tenderest-hearted girl ever watched cartoons.

GAD GRAPHICShe saw the PBS stuff – Caillou, Telletubbies, Big Comfy Couch – but not the violent, irreverent stuffs of our childhood. Wile E. Coyote and Sylvester the Cat. The Jetsons and the Flintstones. The Really Rottens. Woody Woodpecker, and most of all, Tom & Jerry.

Elise finally got to see the eternal feud of Tom & Jerry.

Jerry pushed a piano down a staircase after Tom had attacked him with a mallet and butcher’s knife. On this particular episode, Tom actually gave up the ghost. His spirit floated heavenward, where he had to wait in line for St. Peter.

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🧳 Travel Light. Wear Simple Clothes. Just Watch.

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“Travel the world and the seven seas/ Everybody’s looking for something.” – Annie Lennox

Eloquent people seem to travel lots. Or maybe travel breeds eloquence. What do you think?

I don’t travel much. Unless you count drives to Mooresville or the trips I’ll take to the mountains for Elise’s games. There’s my annual work trip to someplace tropical every winter. When you travel, you pick up stories, whether it’s in Madrid or Marshville.

My friend Brittany tells stories of travel abroad and also to the junkyard in the blog Girl Interrupted, and its superb reading. The clarity of the scenes she sets? Downright Hemmingwayesque in its delivery.

My friend Britta writes It’s a Britta Bottle. She undertook a life shift to teach in Thailand. Her stories began when she made the choice and influence her writing today. Her adventures inspired this post.

Continue reading “🧳 Travel Light. Wear Simple Clothes. Just Watch.”

#GirlsRock: An Interview with CRO (and so much more) Jen Friel

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EJP

Some girls rock to the extreme that they could have a sequel to their #GirlsRock post.

CD INTERVIEWSJen Friel fits the bill. I can’t even give her a proper introduction, because where do you start? You know that person at the party who has done literally everything? This is Jen. yes, she’s CRO of Dropin Inc., a live video platform.

Yes, she’s creator of the relationship blog called Talk Nerdy to Me, where nerds, tech and sex collide.

She has an Imdb page, guys. She’s a passionate entrepreneur, animal lover and total goofball (I ganked that from her site.) She has this kickass blog, too. She’s a LinkedIn contact I sought out for a possible freelance piece for a feminist magazine.

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Go Ask Daddy About Oafs, Sponge Years and Celebrity Breakups

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“Laterz, Barack. Let’s kick it again sometime.”

“How in the world was I ever a student?”GAD GRAPHIC

In the midst of a work post, the utter stubbiness of my attention span – and ability to comprehend anything not about food, soccer or Star Wars – couldn’t be ignored. “They didn’t have as much stuff for you to learn back then,” Grace piped up.

“And they didn’t have all the ways we could learn stuff back then.”

Immediately I saw myself in my sabre-toothed tiger jumper, all Paleolithic-like in a schoolhouse like the ones on Little House on the Prairie. Oh, these kids.

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When My Big Girl Was Little …

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Stormtrooper kicks it with a Warren Wilson owl. – EP

It’s two days until Moving Day.

She’s eaten her way through a Farewell Tour, met with friends and brought home boxes of Zaxby’s and cups of Krispy Kreme coffee. Her stuff’s all packed. She’s dumped off all the “visit us!” college pamphlets on one sister and stole a bottle of lotion from the other.

I envy the forced minimalism, to be honest.

You’ve read enough about the girl who stops shots brilliantly and paints pictures beautifully. We’ve learned and lost and loved together. She’s in her room now, packing, probably singing the same chorus to a familiar song over and over.

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Go Ask Daddy About Prehistoric Throwbacks, Swoony Celebs and Good Guys on Teams We Love to Hate

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Conquering the BGR daily special in Gaithersburg, Md. – EJP

The good old days – amirite?

GAD GRAPHICI might act curmudgeonly at times, but really, I can roll with the punches. I finally got a smartphone, remember? I fully embraced Star Wars: The Force Awakens, and gave Fuller House a puncher’s chance (Hi Kimmy.) Agile, that’s what I am.

Still, there’s stuff I miss. Stuff I wish I could bring back.

Like, Summer Sanders. Toys in the bottom of cereal boxes. Ice cream in baseball caps at the ballpark that don’t set you back $8. Cookie Monster, in his full glory. The original Electric Company. The Gameboy. Trading football cards with Tandy Dillen at lunch.

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