The Dollhouse–The Kardashians

Judge me if you will but I have a sick curiosity about books written not just by celebrities but collaborations. How do three people write a novel?

A better question would be: How much did these three women really contribute to this book? I’m betting there was a great deal of work done by a fourth woman on this.

Although I could totally see Khloe writing a book on her own. And Kourtney seems pretty put together business-wise and like she would just randomly be like ‘I’m going to write a book’. I guess the only one I don’t really believe did this is Kim. And that’s not because I think she’s dumb or anything like that, I actually think she’s quite clever and has a good head for business. (Yes, I am a Kardashian supporter, even if I’ve stopped watching the show.) I just don’t think she’s interested in writing.

That being said, I was, as always with books like this, surprised that I enjoyed even a quarter of it.

The book is based on the three girls lives, but they have made up characters for them. Naturally all with K names. But they are all working for their mother in a family owned restaurant, one who gets fame sooner than the others, one that gets pregnant out of nowhere, and the third who happens to like to make out with her step brother.

It was surreal. It was odd. But it wasn’t terrible.

Given that the writing likely belonged to someone else it was fairly good in that it had a lot of drama and frivolity without being completely over the top and idiotic.

And while I don’t see a sequel ever coming, it wasn’t the worst book I’ve ever read. It actually made me laugh. Like, a real laugh. Not a sarcastic one.

Good summer read for sure.

Konstant vigilance. (See what I did there?)

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How to Be a Woman–Caitlin Moran

Morning all! This book is truly amazing. I borrowed it from my sister out of nowhere and I was pleasantly surprised. Borrowing is a little ridiculous since I have roughly 10000 books in my room so what the hell am I doing reading other peoples book lists?! But here we are. And I’m glad I did it.

Admittedly, I didn’t think this woman would teach me anything. I figured this would be a good laugh and some stories from her life. Overall, I thought I was walking into a dumb-dumb funny read for my piddlesworth puddle brain.

Well.

It was all that. I feel like she actually taught me some interesting things about feminism and sexism and all manners of which I can now use the word “Cunt”.

It was a funny, smart, and great book to read when you need a reminder of what it is to be a woman. She talks to you like your her friend, student, and daughter and we all need to hear what she has to say.

EVERY woman needs to read this because she goes through everything from adolescence to giving birth, to talking about feminism to talking about abortions, breastfeeding, growing older, and all that in between.

It’s just so damn good.

I’ve also learned recently that Emma Watson added this to her GoodReads book club “Our Shared Shelf”. So you know that it’s a smart, clever, and all around great book for women. (And men can learn a thing or two from it as well. Can’t wait to read ‘How to Build a Girl’ that I just found at the Elora book sale this weekend!)

(#17 A Book That Will Make You Smarter. Didn’t know until afterwards. Well worth it. #26BooksWithBringingUpBurns 2015)

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Constant vigilance!

KMF: How to Talk To Pregnant Women

Hey guys, did you know there is a new kind of body shaming going on?

And it’s directed at super humans?

Which seems ridiculous, yes?

I am constantly hearing tales of how people are talking to pregnant women and not in a positive fashion.

When my cousin was pregnant with Carol I heard my family crack jokes about her being pregnant with triplets, talk about how big her ass was getting, and basically fat shaming a person who is working hard to grow another person.

Now, I don’t know if you have ever seen this, heard it, or experienced it yourself, but let me tell you something:

Pregnant women are still women.

They are actually super women considering they are making something with their body that exhausts the fuck out of them but they still get up and show up.

And people are criticizing them?!

My friend is pregnant right now and she keeps telling me how RANDOM STRANGERS are commenting on her weight and how she’s carrying her baby.

Look, she’s a tiny person; of course she’s going to look different than someone who is 5’6 when pregnant. I honestly think it looks like she’s carrying a beach ball under her shirt, whereas other people keep telling her she’s fat in the ass or something other shitty thing. So in my rage at all this I decided to give another lesson this week.

Here’s how you should talk to a pregnant woman:

  1. Don’t fucking mention weight gain. She’s GROWING A PERSON. A PERSON. WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU EVER DONE WITH YOUR BODY THAT’S THAT INTRICATE AND COOL. Nothing. Ever.

2) If you see that a particular part of her body is more robust than the rest, DON’T FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT. She knows guys. She knows and is probably crying about it and praying that it goes away when the baby gets here.

3) Treat her like the goddamn queen she is because it’s likely she actually feels like shit. Babies do so much crazy shit to a womans body that even offering her something small, like food, will be appreciated.

4) Feed her. I’m dead serious. Make her dinner, a snack, find her a cookie, get that girl some sustenance.

5) Don’t ever mention how much coffee she’s drinking. First off: None of your beeswax. You’re not a doctor, you know nothing. And secondly: That girl is tired. If she takes an extra sip or two, leave her alone. She’s building a human and you know you’ve needed more coffee for less.

6)Did I mention she’s tired? Don’t fucking comment on how she looks tired. Instead use your actions. If she looks like she was dragged backwards through a bush don’t fucking say it! Remember that old adage: If you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say it at all?

Give that girl some coffee and a cookie and trick her into watching a movie so she can sleep through it.

7) Tell her she’s beautiful. Because what she’s doing IS beautiful. And more likely than not, she doesn’t feel beautiful. By the end of her pregnancy she’s going to feel like a hot angry bear carrying her cub in her. Tell that bear she looks good. (Also don’t call her a bear. She’ll cut you.)

8) Ask her what she needs. More often than not people give what they think someone wants. Asking her what she actually needs is the best! Trust me, she’ll tell you because she’s too tired to fight through socially awkward nonsense. Pregnancy is truth serum.

9) Just because you would call your sister a fat whale while pregnant does not mean you should say something equally as shitty to a stranger. The number one concern my friend shares is that perfect strangers are the ones who say the shittiest things to her. So you, strangers, stop it! You don’t know this womans life! And it’s most certainly not your place to step in and say some shit. Unless you see her trying to physically injure her bump, fuck right off with your comments.

10) Never. Touch. The. Belly.

What is it about pregnant ladies that people think they can manhandle another person? Just because it sticks out doesn’t mean it’s not attached!!! She can feel that! And it’s creepy as shit to have people want to rub your belly. No pregnant woman ever has enjoyed strangers rubbing her like Buddha. She’s not a lucky charm, she’s a person.

Again, if you wouldn’t do it to your sister, don’t do it to a stranger.

Hope that helps! Go forth and be kind!

Also, if you see someone doing any of these shitty things to a pregnant lady, you stop them and buy that bear a cookie. You’ll be her hero and she’ll give you her baby as thanks.

Okay, she won’t do that, but you will have just made her day.

Keep moving forward.

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KMF: Et tu, Uterus?

Have you ever been up night mind going in circles and then you fixate on one thing and then that thing becomes the thing that you are panicking about all week?

Hi there. My name is Allison.

And I Googled how many eggs I have left to procreate with.

On Saturday.

And I’m still losing it.

Much like all my eggs.

Okay, so I get panic attacks every once in awhile. I have self diagnosed that I have social anxieties, which is triggered by my also being an empath and highly able to feel other peoples emotions and those usually affect how I feel throughout the day.

(Hello only hanging with a toddler because he has such good energy and his is the only one I can take most of the time haha.)

Well, when I’m PMSing all of that blows up like the goddamn Fourth of July, but instead of fireworks it’s anxiety attacks over something that I wouldn’t give two flying fucks over generally.

So I’m just sitting there on Saturday night after having a drink (just one.) and some pie and thinking in circles about nothing and then I couldn’t sleep because my brain wouldn’t shut up, so I made a terrible decision and Googled just how many eggs I will have left by the time I’m 30. (Rolling up to 29 in 2 months.) Because curiosity, right? Nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with a little internet check up on my lady parts.

Wrong.

By the time I hit 30 (and this is the internet talking.) I will have 1/8th of my eggs left that I was born with. By 40 12%. I’m not good at math but…

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

Nope. No kidding for me. (Pun, get it? Haw haw.)

This is especially traumatizing and panic inducing because of two things:

  1. I’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone a serious enough relationship to ever consider kids with that person.

And 2. I want an army of children. (Probably up until I actually push a kid out of me and then I’ll be like “Just the one, please.”)

This has had my head spinning for days. Basically every woman in my mothers generation of my family had kids early. By this point my mom had all five of us, and I’ve always wanted five kids because we always have so much fun together. And I wanted to be a fun, young mom.

Then my cousins started breeding and it’s like they just couldn’t stop! And they’ve been doing that since at least being 25.

And now all my friends are like “Hey girl…we’re thinking about starting a family.”

And I’m all like “Like a dog family? That’s so cute!”

“No. A human. A human baby.”

“Oh. That’s less exciting than a dog, but I’m sure I’ll like your kid anyway because it’ll be a chubby non-talking version of you. I’m going to squish the hell out of its fat face.”

“Non-talking?”

“You are always saying nonsense about things. Like making teacup humans.”

“You’re nuts.”

“You’re nuts for wanting to push something out of your cooter.”

Friendship over.

Now, I’ve since then gotten my period. (Is this over sharing? I’m not particularly ashamed of getting my period, more annoyed than anything else.) Which means that I’m losing even more eggs.

…Guys. I’m freaking the fuck out.

Not enough to go full crazy and trap some random into having a kid with me, but enough that I sometimes cry during PMS because Daryl isn’t ACTUALLY my baby. [That level of bananas is happening man. What is my uterus trying to do here??? Get me pregnant. That’s what.]

But I might be thinking very deeply about going to get some eggs frozen because there is nothing more appealing to me than telling them that they are all Captain America when they are born. But really, that just seems a smart solution to my uterus trying to convince me at every turn that I need to let it serve its purpose.

Balls.

Being not a girl but not yet a woman is really difficult.

I’m not done cooking, it’s rude that my body wants me to bake a bun.

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This picture says it all haha.

Keep moving forward ladies.

Broken–Kelley Armstrong

The werewolves are back! The werewolves are back!

I love my wolf pack.

Honestly, I look forward to seeing them throughout the series more than any other characters, but I’m really glad that this series isn’t completely revolving around them. Kelley Armstrong writes in such a way that I’ll always be intrigued by this series. She keeps you on your toes!

“Broken” is about my beloved wolf pack, and things are changing. (Pun not completely intended.)

Remember Xavier? He was from “Stolen”, he was that dingaling teleporter that is really only after things for himself? Couldn’t really care about anyone unless they could do something for him?

Well. He’s back and he’s asking Elena and Clay’s help in stealing the “From Hell” letter that is rumoured to contain Jack the Ripper.

Go figure that they accidentally open a portal and unwittingly let him out.

The real problem with this? There are all sorts of diseases that come from Victorian England and Elena has a little parasite of her own happening.

She’s pregnant. Naturally, Clay is worried as fuck.

Great writing, one of my favourite books as you get to see this couple work together again and do battle, but also that you get to see Elena trying to act in the best interest of her future kids instead of just herself and Clay.

Loved it. Constant vigilance!

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