The subtext of nearly every chat with my sis/student of human behavior @carolinedohack.bsky.social

Trust me, there's no such thing as a rough draft or a final draft. It's just you writing forever.

Lord grant me the confidence to do as little yet demand as much as the 2025 Chiefs. Go Birds!

Quietly throwing a tantrum over the fact that it is, once again, the holidays and I am, once again, expected to produce a ham-forward feast. Bah, hambug.

If you're in St. Louis tomorrow, this is going to be sooooo much fun.

A movie that takes place where you’re from:

Roughly a decade after its closure, Sbarro is returning to the Columbia Mall. I imagine some grotesque zombie iteration a la The Mountain in "Game of Thrones."

Oh, just listening to Death Cab and reading about ticks.

Take your victory lap, girlfriend.

Nine years ago today I was in the market for an anti-cannibalism ointment.

I am just a bumpkin and had no idea bratwurst patties were a thing that exists.

A Trader Joe's, years and years fervently prayed for, has opened in my town. I love the way the graphic designer pieced together a timeline of grocery lust. (And how fun to see my old colleagues' names and faces in some of the newspaper clippings.)

Jabronis, all.

What a delight.

My dog, my cargo pants and I were on the local news talking about the price of Reese's cups.

“Buck naked” is unclothed. “Butt naked” is unclothed and up to something.

I am so tickled that Mizzou's Raptor Rehabilitation Project cares for an American kestrel named Grace, who also goes by the name Murder Toes.

It is Vegetarian Awareness Month! I hope you are aware of me.

Once, when I worked at the newspaper, Axe sent me a box of men's body sprays. They suggested I do a fun reader giveaway, but I wasn't about to loose that on society so I tossed the box in a corner. Sometimes the smokers would snag one for a poor man's pyrotechnics display in the back lot.

The Kansas City Star is a paragon of impactful local news.

My greatest ambition is to be the type of woman who can get away with calling everyone "kitten" as a term of endearment without sounding creepy and/or affected.

There are men on my roof and they are listening to rap metal.

I've been on a 90s country kick for two weeks and I think it's altered my neural pathways.

Last night @aarikdanielsen.bsky.social and @hollypelesky.bsky.social hosted a writers karaoke at Cafe Berlin, and it was so much fun. This is probably my favorite-ever photo of me and Aarik. Although we aren't siblings by blood, we are set of denim-clad wondertwins.

It's been about nine years since I left my newspaper job but I still think in column inches vs. word count.

Someone emailed "Coutos to you!" and I can't stop smiling. I assume there's a very personal etymology behind this spelling and I am sure it is wonderful.

This NYT illustration is exactly my shopping cart every time I go to the store and I'm feeling some shame.

My mom had some native plants shipped to my house and when I stepped outside to retrieve the box there was a butterfly acting like she wanted to get into it and aww it was just like when my dog gets excited over our monthly Chewy delivery.

Super sad to see local media lose a talent like Aarik, but super excited to see where my brother from another mister lands.

@mobotgarden.bsky.social is livestreaming Octavia, a 148-pound corpse flower, as she gets ready to bloom. God save this stinky queen.

Spotted on my running route this morning. I'm sure this is directed at me and my short but furiously churning legs.

If I were to start a web series about a beekeeper who saves the galaxy, this $2800 Prada visor could be a tax deduction.

MU Health's physical therapy clinic on Forum has the very best mirrors in town. I felt like a parakeet putting the moves on its own reflection as I squatted and lunged.

Spent two nights in Arnold, Missouri, to watch my son play in a Little League tournament. I had been excited to experience the city’s culture, and it did not disappoint. At the Pear Tree by Drury, I was delighted to find not one but four artistic renderings of the Arnold water tower. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

If being "dolphin-smooth" does not entail being fed an endless supply of mackerel you can count me all the way out.

Just got an email with the subject line, "What are you working on this week, VIP?" and my god that is some pressure I did not need.

Trying to teach fractions to a kid home sick from school and feeling very sorry for both of us.

Don't worry, there's a trail of Flamin' Hot Cheetos that will lead you home.

It is a compression sock kind of Monday.

I got a little wild placing library holds during the snow and now they're all ready to be picked up. Oopsie.

Imagining myself rattling down I-70 in this bad girl.

Rejoice with me, for I have finally gotten around to canceling my gym membership.

Max is a good name for a child, a great name for a Golden Retriever, and the very best name for a protein bar.

Remember when we were eating fat-free dairy products? God.

I've done enough physical therapy over the years to know that clamshells and glute bridges are the answer to everything. Knee pain? Clamshells and glute bridges! Hip pain? Clamshells and glute bridges! Sunday scaries? Clamshells and glute bridges!

In my 20s I dated this awful little man who once asked me how many miles I'd run that day. I told him just two. He said, "Then you can have just two pieces of pizza." Now in my 40s, I'm a much stronger runner and could, by his reasoning, earn a truly grotesque amount of pizza.

That Tubi ad gave me nightmares.

I never watched football until my stepdad arrived on the scene. He was a Philadelphia native and a diehard "Iggles" fan, and so here I am. Fly, Eagles, Fly!