Rogue One

Dear Hollywood: I enjoyed Rogue One. It was a good time. But, yet a-fucking-gain, can I just say: making your main character a woman doesn’t mean you’ve met your quota and don’t need to include any other women in your whole movie. How is this still so hard for you? 52% of the population are women-people. We’re really everywhere now …

In a state about the state of things

The more I read, lately, the worse it gets. The more in-depth, well-researched and holistic the article, the more terrifying the conclusions for our planet and our species. If you think that’s being hysterical or dramatic, I would absolutely love for you to prove me wrong — but I’m going to need to see your evidence. If your answer is …

Seven

My baby is seven months old today. We had a Plunket check this week — our Plunket lady is a perfunctory box-ticker of dire warnings and pointless, prescriptive rules (one day let’s talk about whether Plunket is actually helpful, or just adding more this-way-or-else pressure to mothers who are already under enough of it) so we generally just tick her …

We’ve been trumped

Donald Trump is president-elect of the United States. A reality TV star real estate tycoon sleazebag, the actual, literal epitome of the smug white male, who ran on a platform based on division and fear, has been elected to be the most powerful person in the free world. And, despite the fact that Clinton technically won the popular vote, he …

You’re doing time management wrong too

“The math is straightforward. There are 168 hours in a week. If you work fifty and sleep eight per night (fifty-six hours per week in total), that leaves sixty-two hours for other things. The time is there to have what matters.” Internet, let’s discuss this article. I read it and it annoyed me, not because it’s not a nice idea …

And yet

I once went snorkeling in a series of caves underneath Cancún. The entrance was a dark, echoing cavern; a deep, ragged hole in the earth. I think of that cave whenever I see my belly button in the mirror. It’s like someone took a clay model of my midsection and left it in the sun too long. Last week I …

Adventures in multicultural relationships

“What’s a stick in Portuguese? Stick-o?” “You’re so racist. It’s galho.” “Okay, then what’s a trunk?” “…Tronco.” — “I want you to be happy and do the things you enjoy while giving me your full attention at all times.” — “I’m peeved.” “What does peeved mean?” “It means… you know, peeved.” “Very helpful. Do you even remember why you’re mad …

Birth

I love birth stories. I was dead keen to write one… before I gave birth. For the first few weeks afterwards, I was carrying around too much shame to even speak about it: I’d done it wrong, I hadn’t been cool (I lost my shit completely, and then lost it some more), I hadn’t coped. I did too much hippie …

Dad of the year

When I’m in the city alone for work (the one meeting I generally go to a week, while Brazil’s home on Wednesdays) and I see someone I know, they exclaim without fail, “but where’s your baby?!” like we’re bonded together. Soldered. Like he’s still a part of me. I want to say, “he has a father”. I want to say, …

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