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Misc | dooce® | Page 5 dooce® » I'm Heather B. Armstrong. This is my website. » Misc

The Day After Yesterday

Thursdays have often been at the top of my list of great days of the week. Thursdays are just, I don’t know, cool. They’re much better than Mondays, obviously, and often make Fridays seem like just a rich man’s Monday. Today is not one of those Thursdays. It’s not that I’m in a bad mood, [...]

God Save the Queen and Her Awful Teeth

I ate an entire head of broccoli while watching the British version of “Whose Line is it Anyway?” last night in bed. Afterward, I battled two whole hours of gaseous blotation wherein the elastic on my underoos nearly snapped against the force of the bubbling pressure. “I’m going to be farting broccoli all night,” I [...]

Asleep

My best friend Kathy, the one from Valdosta, Georgia — she bought a Ford Explorer cause its big and she’s just a slip of a thing — is driving my car (not a Ford Explorer, alas, but don’t take that to mean I’m a slab of a thing, no siree). I’m sitting in the passenger [...]

A Brief History of Heather’s Hair

In the spring of 1980 at the tender age of 5, I made a bargain with my mother that would unknowingly incur thousands of dollars in psychotherapy bills: if I could go one week without crying at kindergarten, my mom would cut my hair, a rippling spring of silken locks never before seen on a [...]

Drunken Lighting Christmas With The Bargain and The Thing

I have a nasty habit of cramming an entire list of things to do into a short four or five hour span, eventually ignoring everything on that list and crawling up into a ball underneath a down comforter on the bathroom floor. I blame it on every inclination I ever learned as a college student: [...]

Dooce Needs a Dog

When I was seven years old I asked my father for a Saint Bernard not knowing that “because they don’t poop little poop” would become the answer to every request I made for at least eleven more years. I couldn’t stay out past midnight because my boyfriend didn’t poop little poop. Couldn’t go to Florida [...]

I Want My Demographically Legitimate Music Television

98.32% of the four days I’ve had functioning digital cable I’ve done nothing but eat Grape Nuts and watch MTV2, which according to the rapidly accumulating poundage on my thighs proves that indulging in said subscription is perhaps the worst decision of my adult life, right behind accepting a scholarship to BYU, but there aren’t [...]

The Dancing Dooce

Only because I’ve had a grande Mocha Valencia this morning do I think that the free dance lessons I took last night made any sort of sense. First of all, I don’t drink coffee except on the weekends, and only then when I feel like I’ve earned those two shots of liquid espresso ecstasy. Coffee [...]

I Want to Pinch David Lynch

Staggering out of the theater two hours and 25 minutes after paying to see ‘Mulholland Drive,’ I say to my roommate, “I don’t think David Lynch ever intended to make a movie anyone could decipher. In fact, I think he takes morbid pleasure in knowing that scores of Lynchian worshippers, all of whom are apparently [...]

God Bless the Indie Kids

Earlier this week I had the most fortunate opportunity of attending a rock concert by the inimitably versatile musician Ben Folds. I’m aware that no one under 40 calls a show a “rock concert” anymore, and I’m only using that description here to convey just how terribly bitter and cynical I’ve become toward members of [...]