the smell of my desperation has become a stench


For my birthday I got a letter in the mail from our insurance provider:

Dear Heather,

Our records indicate that your upcoming birthday will move your monthly health plan premium to the next age category. As you may already be aware, your premium is subject to age-related changes every five years.

Your new monthly health plan premium will now be [amount x], $72 more than you previously paid for us to continue to not pay any of your medical bills.

Happy Birthday!

The Heartless Pig Fuckers Who Have You By The Balls

I knew there was a reason to look forward to this particular birthday, I just had no idea it would be this good.

This morning Leta opened my presents for me: a beautiful ring lined with blue jewels, a pocket Moleskine, and a leather-covered flask that will fit perfectly in my luggage when I attend the BlogHer conference next week in San Jose. Jon had threatened that he was going to get me my very own pair of clogs for my birthday, and I said, don’t even joke about that because that is not funny at all, and he said, actually, yes, it is very funny, and then he ducked because I threw my superior flip-flop at his head.

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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