Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of June 29, 2025
The sign of a good relationship is a sore, slightly bruised pubic bone. (Heh, heh… bone…)
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of June 22, 2025
I feel bad for the Clown Community. Talk about a marginalized group. When you do an emoji search for “funny,” the clown does not appear in the results.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of June 8, 2025
There is no love stronger than the love a young son has for his father when the boy wants to stay up late.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of June 1, 2025
Priorities are terrible at taking turns.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of May 25, 2025
Just because life’s happenings don’t fit into your presumed narrative, doesn’t mean you should villainize people. Life doesn’t care about your narrative. Heed the advice a therapist once told me: “Stop scripting the future. You cannot control everyone or everything, only yourself.”
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of May 18, 2025
When that India-Pakistan war began, Americans were pretty quiet. No flags, no protests like we had with the Ukraine-Russia war. Why? It can’t be for a lack of Americans being affected by it. There are ~680,000 Pakistani-Americans and ~4.8 million Indian-Americans living in the United States. A greater chunk of the population than the ~1 million Ukranian-Americans living here. So, why no fuss? The only explanation is American Racism. Americans don’t like Indians or Pakistanis. Simple as that.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of May 11, 2025
Sacred cows are just meat yet to be slaughtered.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of May 4, 2025
I wonder how long it’ll take this Southside Chicago Catholic pope to sell of the Vatican’s parking meters.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of April 27, 2025
Acknowledging when you fuck up is as important as acknowledging when someone else fucks up. Difference is, you should be harder on yourself than you are on them.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of April 20, 2025
Between the Blue Origin Failure of Feminism and JD Vance killing Pope Francis, I have not loved the internet this much since 1997 when I learned I could use it to find photos of a topless Cameron Diaz.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of April 13, 2025
Caryn is a much different person than Karen.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of April 6, 2025
I had a boy dog who peed like a girl dog. I now have a girl dog who pees like a boy dog. Gender is fluid. Just like pee.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 30, 2025
Truly unique people are rarely celebrated until after they’ve died and can no longer disrupt the careful choreography of coolness.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 23, 2025
Emotions are the greatest challenge we face as a people. Sociopaths have it easy.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 16, 2025
The descent to hell is easy when the road is paved with alcoholic tolerance.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 9, 2025
A Montessori education is child-led and parents shamed. And judging by the classroom toys and décor, it’s an education opposed to color and joy.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 2, 2025
There’s no S in “Daylight Saving.” But there is one in “You’re all idiots.” Why is this so hard for people?
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of February 23, 2025
Is it misogyny that I get nervous speaking to women who are taller than me? Because I feel the same way when that person—of any sex or gender—is younger than me. So, am I an ageist-misogynist? Or am I just self-conscious about my very dull, very average height?
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of February 16, 2025
Hell hath no fury like a bored housemom who experienced a microaggression.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of February 9, 2025
We’ve abandoned Freud. Nothing is nurture, it’s strict nature. Who we are is no longer defined by our experiences or our relationships with our parents or friends, but by our neurodiverse ailments. It’s no longer survival of the fittest, it’s survival of who has the most diagnoses. And with all that, so goes accountability out the window.
The sign of a good relationship is a sore, slightly bruised pubic bone. (Heh, heh… bone…)