Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend?

That is the meanest thing anyone has ever come up with.

I’m not the first one to blog about this, either.  It’s actually quite a popular topic.

Women everywhere are outraged with this fictitious branding.  What if I said “Men prefer Nikes over real relationships!” and flaunted it as if that were a great advertisement for Nike tennis shoes? That’s such a stupid idea! People would call me an idiot!

Well, Carol sang about it (video above for your viewing pleasure). I’ll say, though she rocks that song, and the lyrics do nail some good points (diamonds last longer than all of her relationships combined), I’d still have to stand behind what I already know :It is a stupid phrase.

(Hannah must not have any diamonds) Is that really what you just thought?

Well, I don’t have any. So you’re right if that really is what you thought.

My point is, my best friend is not stone.  She is beautiful and real and I get to watch her marry an incredible man in just a little more than a month.  I will be all smiles and it will be full of emotion and I will not once think “Gosh, this is so great, if only my diamond were here to share this moment with me!”

Please, don’t have a best friend that is your watch or your car or something so incredibly dumb and not alive. And definitely don’t sing about.

Lesson learned, Carol!

Gotta run, that bowtie calls, and those steaks aren’t going to deliver themselves!



Why I hate Children

Gosh, you’re awful. I don’t actually hate them.

…I strongly dislike children.

My family tree is a fricken redwood, it’s that big. I have ten nieces and nephews, and I love them each very much. So please understand, I do not hate them. They are my family! The children I dislike so greatly, well, are probably yours!

Also understand that I, myself, was an awful child, loathed by many.  My own sister hardly spoke to me until we were well in to adulthood. I threw the most amazing temper tantrums, slamming doors, screaming, and every single day was the “worst day of my life!!”

My parents raised us in such a loving home and gave us incredible lives as children, so don’t think I actually had anything to feel sorry for myself for. I thought I rocked, and that everyone else thought so too.  I felt the way that Kanye West feels about himself. Way too cool and overly priveleged (in my defense, I was a child, not a grown man).  

So maybe it’s karma? This way that kids can unhinge my every nerve?  What I do know, is that if I am in a restaurant, and your kid is screaming, I will not feel bad asking to be moved far away from you. If a kid makes you look like an ass in public, I do not feel sorry for the parent, because I’m guessing they do the same thing at home (yes, make you look like an ass, you just don’t notice because you are in your home).

How dare I say such things! Don’t worry, my dear internet friends, I’m sure some day I will make the mistake of bearing a child and karma will once again take its awful toll and I will screw that kid up, royally.  And it will indeed make me look like an ass in the most public place of all the places.

For now I will stick with having a dog. He may shed, but he is so many things a child is not. Human, for example. He is not human…so that’s a good thing.

But there’s still time for me to screw him up too.