After all this time, I’m sure you’re wondering: When will one of the writers at Oy!Chicago tackle the “selfie stick?”
Yesterday my brother stuck his head through my window in the Hebrew school carpool line and asked if I’m ready to quit. Like the rest of my family, Jeff doesn’t approve of my marathon habit, and while he hasn’t yet staged a full-blown intervention, he asked me the same question after my first one. And second. And third.
I have felt looked down upon many times in the various customer service jobs I have held over the years. I’ve often felt the need -- especially when unexpectedly reencountering former classmates -- to explain that my work at the mall/gym/concession stand was only temporary and that I was in fact studying/writing/traveling in my spare time.
Do you believe in miracles? Of course you maybe do or don’t! In my 28 years on the third rock from the sun (not the TV show, I mean Earth), I’ve experienced a lot that has truly blown my mind
When I was in junior high, I learned the hard way what it felt like to be bullied. Out of the blue, these three girls who'd been close friends of mine only the day before suddenly started taunting me.
Guilty. I was that mean mommy. You know the one all the perfect parents shield their children’s eyes from? Yup, that was me.