Scribbling Dame

Preposterous Pondering.

This cover letter got me a job. September 10, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 10:24 am
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No lies. I’ll start a family events review gig at CultureMob soon (for the PDX Metro Area), and this was the cover letter that convinced them. They are clearly complete fucking weirdos, which means it’s likely to be a fun venture.

Application Question: Tell us a little about yourself:

My response:

I obviously have low self-esteem since I am kind of titillated by your low-paying gig. What can I say, I am a sucker for humor. [The Craigslist ad they posted was pretty funny.]

I. Can. Also. Write. Full. Sentences. No, seriously, I can. I have an MA in English, and like all good english majors I don’t do anything for real money related to my degree.

I have procreated an almost three-year-old which means I deserve a medal for successful sexing. It also means that I am an expert in the “family” category because my kid doesn’t have a criminal record and we have taken her places.

I would like to be part of a family blogging gig that doesn’t involve “magical moments” or some other cotton candy shit like singing pedophile guitarists, but maybe this means I should not write for the family category. I guess it depends on what you want.

I like to swear, and prefer to swear, but don’t have to swear.

You will see my resume has almost nothing to do with writing, but I assure you I have been doing it all my life, starting at age 6 when I wrote a mystery series about missing cookies. I also illustrated it myself, but I wouldn’t apply for an illustration position any time soon.


P.S. I would not pass this one on to your unemployed friends.


if you like Vanilla Ice you will love this article August 26, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 1:42 pm

Because it’s my despiter column, about Vanilla Ice.

Best picture EVER


I am tweeting. August 19, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 3:17 pm

All the kids are doing it. I am going to go jump off a bridge now.

Like peer pressure? Follow me!

ScribblingDame is my username.


A momentus event July 20, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 11:43 pm

Sofia pooed in the toilet.

I knew you’d be happy for us, Scribbling Dame audience. 🙂

I will be back this Friday with a less lazy post. I have been on the road this week and without reliable internet–GASP!


I am a real writer! June 25, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 10:58 am
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Okay so “writer” might be going too far, but I did recently (3 weeks ago) secure a paid writing gig on a blog that I am a fan of–The Passion Project. The fact that I am just now whoring it out makes me an amateur…

The blog is about pursuing your passions and living the life you want in the depth of your heart–a cause I can surely get behind. My column, Despiter of the Week, comes out on Thursdays and features different folks who were passionate about something/someone and the lessons we can learn from their stories.

But don’t worry–as sentimental as it may sound, it is still me writing it. I was chosen for my expert use of choice words and my general smart assiness–that is the spice I bring to the project–and they are paying me for it. A modest amount for sure, but still.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

This week’s:

Prior weeks:


I commit to you every Friday! June 6, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 10:27 am

Hi all–

I want to let you know that I am going to be a disciplined blogger and get you something snarky every Friday (by the end of the day).

In the meantime, enjoy Man Spanx:


A List of Those I’d Like to Punch in the Face May 28, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 10:52 pm
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I don’t know why I am so feisty today–I honestly had a fabulous day! At first this list was only four people but once I got on a roll… I may have over-caffeinated.

Alas, in no particular order, I want to punch the following “people”…

1. People who fart on the airplane. Fuck you! I am trapped inhaling your ass air with no place to escape! Go to the fucking bathroom you fuck–it’s not like you’re busy on the plane. I assure you, everyone knows that you let one.

2. People who don’t hold the door open when I clearly have a baby in a stroller or on my hip and a shit load of other things to carry. I know you see me mother– fucker!

3. Slow people. At anything: in the buffet line, getting on or off an elevator, merging on the freeway. Move your ass! Even if I have nothing specific to get to, I have better things to do with my time than watch you mosey. I am not alone: there is a whole support group for this:

4. People who swoop in on the parking space you were clearly waiting for. You are fucking lucky I have a child in the car who would get upset watching me pound on your fucking windshield and making a scene. If it was easy to calm her down, you’d be a dead piece of shit. I will find you in the store and make you feel guilty for forcing me to haul my child and various gear even farther.

5. That guy Cojo on Entertainment Tonight. Your creepy plastic face is disturbing and you have bad taste in everything. You are the epitome of bourgeois.

6. Oprah. You are an intellectual imperialist. I don’t want to like your friends, buy your favorite junk or read your sappy ass book choices. I also don’t give a shit about most of the people on your show–especially Dr.Oz. That guy is definitely a perv.

7. The French. You smoke, you’re too thin for having such good food, and everything in your language sounds pretentious.

8. People who use the word “literally” incorrectly. It’s this generation’s “ironic.” I literally want to punch them (the incorrect users of literally, not this generation) in the face.

9. Dora the Explorer. She is lucky she is not real. Well actually, I want to punch the kid who is Dora’s voice in the face. The sound of her voice makes me want to go postal. It is like the human version of a dog whistle to me. I would sooner let my kid watch pornography than let her watch Dora.

Dora the Explorer

10. The cast of Twilight. Don’t get upset reader–I totally read the books and watch the movies, but have you seen any of these douche-bags in an interview? They are the most vapid and daft people and they are frankly not that good looking. Maybe I am just old but I’d sooner do Dr. Cullen than that twit Edward. It is not fair that such twats have all that money. What a waste.

If you see me coming, you better cross the street mother-fuckers, ’cause I’ll cut ya. Okay–I’ll probably just give you really bad stink eye but you’ll know what I mean…


For Your Mama Funny Bone… May 27, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 5:14 pm

I am not ashamed to say I feel proud of my tech savvyness for being able to post these. Baby steps, people…




I promise you I couldn’t make this shit up. April 27, 2010

Monday: Baby girl has fever. Daycare calls. Leave work at 3:30. Pick up baby girl.

Tuesday: Baby girl still has fever, but she is at Grandma’s house so it doesn’t matter. Business as usual.

Wednesday: Business as usual.

Thursday: Hubby stays home sick. By 11:30 rushing home from work to take hubby to doctor. Get home, realize hubby needs to go to ER since he CAN’T WALK! ER Trip #1: 2 IVs, blood tests and some drugs later, sent home. Cancel massage that was going to get me through the next couple of weeks. Take nap, wake up, hubby feels hot–103.5 temperature and hasn’t peed the two litres of IV fluid they gave him in the ER. ER Trip #2: fast heartbeat, low blood pressure leads to chest X-Ray, CT Scan and more IVs. Benign sinus tumor found but no explanation for fever etc. etc. Overnight stay “sleeping” in a bedside chair in hospital.

Friday:  wake up, eat hospital food, watch daytime TV, discharged at 3:30

Saturday: husband doing better except for a RASH in his mouth and on his hands. Call Advice nurse, told to take him in where we find out he has “Hand Foot and Mouth Disease” (not to be confused with Hoof and Mouth). HFM Disease is something usually only children get–and my husband. Lucky!

Sunday: back my car into utility truck getting an emergency coping beer with a friend. No damage to the truck. Hit and run. Look at damage to my car after beer.

Monday: Humans seem on the mend. Gave dog a bone-literally. Fall asleep. Wake up because dog needs a drink. Take away dog bone and put it in the hallway. Step in something icky. Turn on light. Dog poop on my toe. What’s that smell? Dog diarrhea all in my fucking hallway. Cleaning 32 piles of diarrhea dog shit at 9:30 in my hallway. Take dog outside to shit more. Dog comes in with shit baggage hanging out of his asshole. Wash dogs ass. Blow dry dog’s ass.


And this is all why I feel absolutely no guilt that I signed up for the “wellness” package at the local massage place: 12 months of massages may be the only thing that keeps me sane and my loved ones safe. That and my trip to Mexico in exactly 11 days…


If permits were given out for parenting, we probably wouldn’t get one… April 11, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 9:49 pm

On a fancy night out at Old Spaghetti Factory, my husband and I are sitting with Sofia, feeding her a meatball. Daddy makes a joke that he can feed baby girl better to get her away from me so I can try eating something while it is still warm–it’s cute how he still tries.

Anyway, I ask Sofia if she can say “wanker” and to my surprise she does with exactitude. Then her Daddy asks her if she can say “puta” which she also executes quite perfectly. She cannot, however, say “pinche cavrone,” much to my relief. (Don’t laugh, but I totally spell checked pinche cavrone! No actually, you should laugh.)

And this is why if you needed a permit to have a kid, we probably would not get one.


Writer’s Block Collection March 11, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 10:20 pm

I am sorry I have neglected you for so long. I promise I have thought about you at least everyday. And, in my thinking about you I have been thinking of something witty and funny and interesting to say–some new revelation about motherhood or feminism or myself or my kid. I have been waiting for that aha moment I usually get when I just have to blog on a topic that comes up in my general goings on.

Alas, nothing has come to mind. Literally, I don’t think I have been thinking about anything since my last post. My brain has become an empty cob-webbed attic.

I thought to myself, surely I have been thinking about something, and I suppose this is true. I have thought about how young 18 year old women are (when I hosted an alumni dinner for prospective students at my alma mater). I have thought about who should win an Oscar even though I haven’t seen half the movies. I thought about how cute the lead singer of Vampire Weekend is, how he’d be fun to sexually corrupt,  and what a cougar I am for thinking that.  I have thought about my upcoming birthday when I will turn 30 and figured I should have a lot of thoughts on that. I have thought that I wanted to die this past two weeks because all of us in my house have some nasty cold/cough thing that is really kicking our asses and how will I muster up the energy to feed my kid, bathe myself and do a decent job at work.

None of this seemed, by itself , interesting enough to merit a blog.


Love and Nostalgia February 12, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 10:08 pm
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As Singles Awareness Day (S.A.D.) approaches I am of course thinking of love, and given that my love and I have been together 10 years and have a child; time.

When I was a single lady I spent my V-Days with my best friend, watching 80s movies, dying my hair and eating a pint of ice cream; enjoying myself but longing for romance. These are fond memories that seem like forever ago.

Today we took down the baby gate that was at the bottom of our stairs because Sofia is old enough to go up and down them without any help so there is no danger there, and, she is old enough to play in her room on her own. We no longer have a baby in the house! How sad! Also, when did that happen?

Simultaneously, I am very happy with my lot this V-Day. There is no anxiety or anticipation. No disappointment, because honestly, there are no expectations. To those of you who have been partnered off for a while, this probably resonates. To those of you who are still in the throes of young romance you probably think I am married to a cardboard box. If there is one thing I have learned about love from those who have been married for decades, it is that love has stages.

I feel like the first stage is like a plum: young, colorful, bursting, juicy, and firm (kind of like my pre-baby body 🙂 and sadly seasonal. Stage two, my current stage, is the prune: less flashy and sexy, but sweet and reliable, healthy and nourishing. For the third stage I will have to come up with a new metaphor…

Becoming parents together has really shown me what love can be–first of course the new discovery of what it means to love a child and the joy that goes through your blood and bones as well as a new dimension of love for my husband for the amazing and loving father he is. Another element of this new discovery is the love of everyday partnership–the things that my husband and I do for each other every day to make it in this world as working parents.  Some of my favorite gestures: getting my hair stroked while falling asleep in bed, cappuccinos on the weekends, a surprise flower at my desk at work, dropping me off at work so I don’t have to walk in the rain from the parking garage. These are the everyday diamonds and roses from my love, and though he is by no means perfect, he is perfect for me.

So, the Valentine’s Day plans are  getting together with some friends for Bar-b-Que at a local restaurant, because nothing says I love you like pork ribs! Given that we don’t have a million dollars for us to celebrate properly with a shopping trip to Paris, I am quite content with true love every day and good company to celebrate it. I wish you all the same good fortune.

XoXo Mommies


An important message from my mother… January 30, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 10:23 pm
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Since my full throttle admission to motherhood, I have, in many ways, become more empathetic towards my own mother (in some ways less so). I have realized that there may be plenty of moments to come when Sofia thinks I am a complete nut job as I try and navigate her through the world in one pure, virginal, intelligent piece. Yet I still think the following voicemail content from my mother this evening may just be plain crazy. In summary, the key points of her VM were as follows:

1) She forgot to ask me when we spoke last if her ex–husband of 15 years (the man I grew up with as my father) has called or if he is still MIA. I love that we spoke for 30 minutes last week and this is an afterthought she has of our conversation which essentially checks in on my emotional well-being. A funny omission if you ask me, and a thinly veiled curiosity of gossip quality. How does one respond to this? (Beep) “Hi yes Mom I am calling to let you know that he is in fact still a child in a man’s body and has no understanding of what it means to take responsibility as a father. Call me later! ”

She then transitions to her second very important message which she says is “on a cooler note:”

2)I absolutely must check out because there are pictures of Matthew McConaughey with his shirt off there and she is not sure if I am a fan but she is a fan and “he is one fine lookin’ man” so I should make sure to go to this site (which in actuality if you are interested is After I puked in my mouth a little, I laughed because I am not anti-Matthew M., but I have never been a fan and I have certainly grown out of searching the internet  for shirtless pictures of the men I do think are “fine-lookin’.” This moment for me felt like the times my grandma asked me if I was dating any “hunks.”  I think she actually called me to tell me #2 but used #1 as a logical excuse for touching base again so soon…

I can only look forward to the day when I can leave my daughter absurd and inappropriate messages on whatever iDevice, and she can then telepathically blog about how her mother is certifiable.


Entitlement January 17, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 11:17 pm
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I have recently been irritated with the whole Haiti thing. Before you get the wrong idea and think I’m a mega-bitch, read on.

My irritation lies in the fact that I feel our sudden outreach is superficial and shallow. Let’s be real, Haiti was in shit condition before the earthquake took place, and no one gave a damn then. Children were starving and living in unlivable conditions before this event, yet why did we not reach out then?

I believe entitlement is the reason why. Let’s face it, giving money to the latest cause of trend is the ultimate privilege of the entitled, as evidenced by the snazzy ribbons worn by celebrities at awards shows. We get to decide when to care, and how much, and even the caring becomes a business opportunity–the truly rich get to invest in the damage and rebuild, the famous get publicity by telethon-ing their empathy.  I suppose that charity has impact, no matter how shallow the roots.

I include myself in the group of the entitled. I fully believe I am entitled to my nice house, my career, money, eating out, shopping–all the things that make me the capitalist suburban American mom that I am today. I worked my ass off to get through college so I could be middle class, so I could watch 60 minutes report on the tragedies of Katrina or Haiti while I eat pizza and look away when it gets too painful and too real.

The one thing in this life I will never feel fully deserving of is my daughter and the joy she brings me. Putting her to bed tonight I looked at her sleeping in my arms,cried and thanked God for such a blessing–and I am not even religious. There is nothing I could have possibly done to be so lucky to have a beautiful, healthy, loving child safe in my arms, who wants for nothing. I would gladly give up everything else to ensure that my daughter never knows suffering the way the people of Haiti do, the way so many people know it everyday. And, since motherhood has made it so that I feel every child is in some way my child, I feel overwhelmed by tragedy, guilty for my luxurious life of entitlement and insignificant in impact.


Photo Mania December 13, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — Scribbling Dame @ 11:04 pm
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I just finished printing up some photos of Sofia and Jeremy and I for her Grandma and Auntie. I also finished putting some on Facebook and tagging all the interested parties. Then I got obsessively distracted by how unorganized my pics and albums are in iPhoto and started rifling through them–deleting the ones with people I can’t even name anymore, and it got me thinking about pictures.

Sofia has, quite literally, been photographed by my husband and I at least a thousand times. This started on Day 1 of her life, and every trip, birthday, Christmas, Halloween, outfit sent from relative, first time with cousins, etc. is documented. There are so many photos of her I could never put them all in albums.

Documenting her and sending out these moments was yet another mom-duty that I didn’t think about prior to birth–and figure, Sofia has 6 grandparents so for every momentous photo, I must upload, print, copy and send, numerous times. I am terrible at doing this often because it is such a pain. I find it incredibly overwhelming when I do want to print a picture of her, because there are too many to choose from. I want everyone I know to just get a Facebook page to make my life easier–is that too much to ask? Oh wait–get a FB account AND learn how to print pictures from it.

Anyway, with all this photo fun it got me thinking, why do we take photos nowadays? Are pictures still worth a thousand words? Can we possibly have that much to say? Before, they were only used to document special occasions and you’d put them in an album for later nostalgia and reminiscing. Now it seems that photography is only for the fleeting moment. I’d guess that most of us don’t even print half of the photos we take. Which leads to another pondering: will our generation be as well-documented as others? Or, will our memories and histories die out with our hard drives?


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