Alice Roosevelt Longworth: posthumous friend-crush
It turns out the originator of the quote, “If you haven’t got anything good to say about anybody, come sit next to me” was awesome. Her name was Alice Roosevelt Longworth (Her dad was Theodore Roosevelt.)
On her “quotable comments”,
To Senator Joseph McCarthy, who had jokingly remarked at a party, “Here’s my blind date. I am going to call you Alice,” she responded acidly, “Senator McCarthy, you are not going to call me Alice. The trashman and the policeman on my block call me Alice, but you may not.” She informed President Lyndon B. Johnson that she wore wide-brimmed hats so he couldn’t kiss her. On another occasion, asked by a Ku Klux Klansman in full regalia to take his word for something, she refused, saying, “I never trust a man under sheets.”
You know your wit is legendary when your one-liners get repeated on Wikipedia.
Welcome to Chronic Illness: You’ll come out cooler than when you started.
I’ve put my lifetime of Crohn’s Disease/ Autoimmune Carnival of Delights to use in a new blog at Psychology Today. Click on over, and pass along to your sickly friends!
(And thanks to Jon-Michael Frank for that rad blowfish)
Hey, Girl. Let’s Talk About How Unlovable You Are.
This is the weirdest copy for expensive soap ever.
Once upon a time, there was a person who swore they would love you forever. Their love moved on, but your love stayed in the same place. Consider the opportunity to love the greatest of all blessings. The love you give is the love you get, and it is all good no matter where love takes you. Let the ability to love another belong to you forever and ever because real love stories never end.
-(sic), From Philosophy’s “Unconditional Love” body wash
Hang on, what? Is it trying to clean my skin or talk me through a high school break-up?
I’m not really sure “in the shower” is the appropriate time for any of this. It’s one of those pep talk that ends up making everyone sadder, like, “I know your 20s are hard, but someday you’ll look back at them and wish you still had all that freedom and no commitments… And your potential seems limitless… And you don’t have to shop at Dress Barn.”
Also, the last line doesn’t even sound like English.
This bottle is sitting on a shelf in my shower, and I find myself studying it like the only clue in a murder case. Maybe if I squint hard enough, I can figure out just what the hell it’s talking about.
I guess, like “true love stories,” stupid prose will never end.
Things Shouted at the Children in AT&T Ads By Their Offscreen Parents
"Go baby, go! Invalidate Mommy’s lifetime of poor decisions!"
"Luther, if you aren’t the cutest one, Daddy will lose his house. You like having a place to live, don’t you? Don’t you?"
"T & A, baby! T & A! For now that means ‘Teeth and chArisma’, and we’ll revisit it in about 13 years!"
"Madyson-Weslie, baby, nail this and I’ll let you hit my car with a baseball bat."
"My assistant will pick you up and then take you to voice lessons and ballet-jazz-tap, then give you to Pierre, who will feed you dinner. Bye bye, honey! Love you!"
"WORK HARDER! DADDY NEEDS HIS PROTEIN SHAKES!"
These are some of the automatically-generated statuses what-would-i-say.com invented based on my existing Facebook statuses.
I am becoming increasingly pumped for the robot revolution. It turns out, If you can program a thing to use my own words, I will love that thing unconditionally.
It is troubling to see how easy it is to win my affection: “just spit back my own ideas, slightly scrambled!” “So easy, a computer could do it!” I’m willing to set aside my naysaying, though—my narcissism just arm-wrestled it and won.
A thing I think daily.
Shyeah it does.
My memoir title, I’m sure.
Unrelated, have you ever noticed when people mix up “mesclun” (a type of salad lettuce mix) and “mescaline” (the drug that gave us Hunter S. Thompson)? Gets me every time.
So dark and so fascinating.
"Sure. It gets you out of bed."
David Rakoff: …I think that most, for want of a better term, most cynics are actually simply romantics who have been around beyond the age of 23. Do you know what I mean?
Interviewer: I think so. [Laughs]
Rakoff: The dream of a world of beauty and understanding and wish fulfillment is pretty well trumped by experience quite quickly. And then you are left with a certain kind of realism but you don’t entirely abandon that kind of romantic yearning for something.
Interviewer: And that in itself is hope.
Rakoff: Sure. It gets you out of bed.
-Interview with David Rakoff, 2001
Experience has shown that if someone I meet describes themselves as a “hopeless romantic,” they are insufferable and they saved me a ton of time by announcing it at the outset.
I love this interchange, though. Maybe the romantics and we cynics are two ends of the same spectrum. Cynics may roll our eyes a lot, but we’re not nihilists; we are cynical precisely because we care. (We’re also a lot more fun to sit next to during screenings of “The Notebook,” FYI.)
And now a bit of non-cynical, heartfelt advice: Google binge on David Rakoff if you’ve got a few moments. You won’t regret it.
Thank you for your interest in my well-being! Please hold.
HA HA HA THAT IRISH COFFEE AT 8PM WAS A MISTAKE
OOPS I TYPED ISHISH AND THEN ISIS. SPELLING “IRISH” IS HARD!
COFFEE AND BOOZE? WHO KNEW?
THE LIGHTS THEY BURN! WINCE WINCE WINCE
I WILL BE RUNNING IN PLACE FOR THE NEXT TEN HOURS, THANK YOU, SIR
THESE TEARS AREN’T SADNESS! THEY’RE PROGRESS.
-From my forthcoming book of poetry, “Lessons I Should Have Learned By Now”
(Just kidding. It should be abundantly clear I am not a poet.)
You can go to hell; I will go to Texas.
Things just got much, much harder for those of us driving around lady bodies in Texas.
After an insane amount of political back-and-forth, an appeals court ruled the draconian abortion restrictions constitutional (reversing an earlier ruling that it was not, in fact). In one fell swoop, they shut down 1/3 of our state’s clinics. The law went into effect yesterday, and disproportionately affects low-income women and women in rural areas. Watch or read more information here.
If you can, please consider donating to Lilith Fund for Reproductive Equity or the National Network of Abortion Funds (a generous donor is going to match donations and send them to Texas.) This goes way beyond abortion: it’s about access to healthcare, respect for bodily autonomy, and trusting women to choose what is right for themselves and their families.
I’m often disappointed in my state, but this struggle has also kindled hope: while many of our politicians may be toads, our activists and caring humans of all ages, genders, and walks of life are bar-none. Don’t discount us, toads. We’re coming for you.
If you think hard enough, you can suck the joy out of ANYTHING
I was briefly struck by a desire to go to a yoga class. That’s an impulse I have to grab before it gets eaten by meaner, louder impulses, like “go back to bed” or “take off your pants. They’re not doing you any good.”
I looked up a schedule and earnestly wondered why I couldn’t attend a “postnatal” class. We’re ALL postnatal, right? I’m like 27 years postnatal! I’d NAIL that shit. I’ve had so much practice.
And to that end, what’s to keep any of us out of a “prenatal” class, either? I’ve never given birth, so I’m suuuuuuper prenatal. We’re talking many, many years prenatal (or, does “probably never” qualify?) Once again: NAILING it.
I can already see the look of defeated exhaustion on a yoga teacher’s face as I try to explain all of this. I feel for her. Nobody should have to defend “precision of language” from a liberal arts grad with too much time on her hands.
After working all this out, I missed the class. But that’s fine. These pants aren’t doing me any good, anyway.
On the main road near the apartment I was renting, there was a Taco Bell right next to a vet hospital. The vet had
cheesy cheeky sayings on either side of its sign, and, because it was a few feet taller than the Taco Bell sign, the eye was naturally drawn to it first.
This meant, on each drive home, I was treated to this chain of thoughts:
"If you love something, pee on it."