Web Time Wasters

How was your week, guys? It was rainy and overcast for most of the week, but I went to R&B roller skating night (!), brunched with old friends, and watched Lo-Fang work his magic at the 7th Street Entry. Lovely!

Links for you!

One of the best-written blogs I’ve read in ages: My Husband’s Tumor (and yes, it’s about what you think it’s about. But no, it’s not nearly as depressing as you’d expect.)

For the last year, I’ve been part of Theoroi, an arts advocacy organization that promotes theater/dance/music through the under 35 crowd and social media. For $150 and a few tweets, you get to attend 12 amazing events (worth over $500!) If you live in the Twin Cities and you’d like to apply for a spot, the application is here.

Let’s all buy this t-shirt.

Isn’t this a cute outfit for the weekend? And I love this pink + leopard print!



The young women, some just girls, who also harvested seaweed and turban shells in addition to the more prosperous pearl-bearing abalone, would dive in often freezing waters, for 2 minutes at a time and come up to breathe for just barely a few seconds. They would do this up to 60 times in a single diving session, up to three times a day. As women, they were believed to be better suited for the task because of an extra insulating layer of fat on the female body that allowed them to hold their breath longer than the men. With this advantage, they could also make more money in a single diving season than most of the men in their village would make in a year.
How cute are these place card holders?I should have bought this for Easter.

Aubrey Plaza, you are a babe.

Wowza. This house tour is drool-inducing. #blackaccentwalls4eva

What’s the human cost of buying clothes made in sweatshops? Super important, super depressing.

Would you go to a cafe that doesn’t allow laptops and doesn’t have wifi?

What’s it like to run a marathon through the capitol of North Korea?

The most striking part of the marathon at this point is the silence. Except for the patter of my feet, there’s barely any noise—Pyongyang is not known for its traffic and blaring horns. During these quiet moments I entertain myself by shouting “annyeong!” to large groups of North Koreans who stop in their tracks to watch me jog past. They burst into laughter. I think about sitting down at the bus stop and sharing some of my energy gels with them, but I still need to get back into the stadium within the allotted time.Isn’t this ring gorgeous?

The new Bombay Bicycle Club video is so joyful!

I handwrite thank you cards after every Solution Session and Clever Session so I sort of need to buy them in bulk. I love these – there are gold origami cranes on the inside of the envelopes and it’s a Minnesota company!

Advice on how to make a career transition.

Isn’t this skirt ladylike and pretty? And I’d wear this with bedhead and glasses.

Wow. I Was Racially Profiled in My Own Driveway

As offended as I’d been, the worst part was trying to explain the incident to my kids. When I called my wife to tell her what had happened, she was on her way home from the Black History Month event, and my son heard her end of the conversation. Right away, he wanted to know whether I’d been arrested. My 4-year-old daughter couldn’t understand why a police officer would “hurt Daddy’s feelings.” I didn’t want to make my children fear the police. I also wasn’t ready to talk to them about stop-and-frisk policies, or the value judgments people put on race.Some Yes and Yes posts you might have missed: True Story: I dated a married man, How to rock freelance writing, Best travel makeup bag. Period. End of story.

Also!  If you like these posts you won’t miss another one if you follow along on Feedly or Blog lovin’. Or you can subscribe to my newsletter and I’ll send you my best post each week and you’ll get three (3!) free ebooks! 



The A-Z of dance: SO FUN! I've come across it a bunch of facebook, etc., and have watched it every time it comes up.


Loving the Tumour link…heartbreaking but so, so important.
This blew me away:

"We spend a lot of time in life worrying about time, imagining that there’s a magical “right time” for us to fall in love, to change careers, to chase a dream, as if we can somehow will all of the moving parts of a human life into perfect alignment.

This sense of time is so utterly important that we use it to excuse all manner of cowardice and misfortune. The loves lost, the chances not taken, the complacency we fall into can all be chalked up to some mysterious clock that just wasn’t quite right. "


Thanks. I have tons of housework to do and laundry to wash and fold and bills to pay. You have stopped me from all that very important drudgery for at least an hour. Hallelujah!


The last sentence in the racial profiling article choked me up. There was such good things in that article, ways to look forward, concrete solutions to change the future, anger transformed to hope. Thanks for including this in your list. Oh, and I also totally enjoyed the dance!


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