1 p.m. Hey, there! It looks like you left something in your cart! It’s saved for you and ready to buy. The Roessler Upholstered Storage Bench is waiting for you! — 1:20 p.m. Good news! The bench you placed in your cart is still there! Get it now ...


Wendi Aarons

You Have An Item In Your Cart, Asshole

1 p.m.

Hey, there! It looks like you left something in your cart! It’s saved for you and ready to buy. The Roessler Upholstered Storage Bench is waiting for you!

1:20 p.m.

Good news! The bench you placed in your cart is still there! Get it now before someone else snags this great storage deal!

1:40 p.m.

ALL BENCHES NOW ON SALE! YOU WON’T WANT TO MISS THESE DEALS! (Roessler Upholstered Storage Bench not included)

2:00 p.m.

Pssst…. we don’t mean to bother you, it’s just that this bench that’s way more than a spare seat or stylish accent has been sitting in your cart for a while now and we’re getting worried that something has happened to you. Can you just let us know that everything’s okay?

2:15 p.m.

Honestly, deserting a bench in your storage cart says a lot more about you than it does about us, man. We’ll be fine. We’re good. We’re not going to trip on a non-stored toy, crack our head and die alone and unloved on cold, hard tile like a Dickensian street urchin. You might. Free shipping over $75!

2:20 p.m.

Question: Who thinks about you day and night and wonders why you abandoned it like a traveling businessman abandons a hooker at sunrise? Answer: The Roessler Upholstered Storage Bench! Are you even getting these emails?

2:30 p.m.


2:45 p.m.

Just who do you think you are, anyway? You give the Roessler Storage Bench a little attention, a little excitement, get its hopes up, and then you just pretend it doesn’t exist? Get over yourself, idiot. You’re not that hot.

2:46 p.m.


2:50 p.m.

It’s like, we know you were interested in the Roessler Upholstered Storage Bench at one point, so what changed? Was it us? Is there something we’re doing that you don’t like? We thought you were into bench frames that flaunt a nailhead trim on the 100% polyester upholstery in a solid neutral color, but hey, maybe we don’t know you as well as we thought we did. Maybe we’re the jerks. Maybe it was all just a stupid, stupid lie.

3:00 p.m.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE! Unfortunately, the item you requested, the Roessler Upholstered Storage Bench, is currently out of stock. We’ll contact you when it’s once again available, most likely in 10-12 weeks.



Then and Now Kids: Help Navigating the Teenage Years

There aren’t a lot of parenting resources to address your concerns once your kids hit the teenage years. And the ones that do exist are mostly (and appropriately) about protecting your teen from the many dangers they may now encounter. You can feel kind of lost when sometimes all you want to know is that a door slam and being told you’re ruining someone’s life is normal behavior. That’s why I was heartened to learn of the new Center for Parent and Teen Communication. The director, Dr. Ginsburg, tells parents of teens that it’s not all doom and gloom. We shouldn’t just focus on the arguing and the eye rolling and your kid’s inability to put clothes in the laundry basket. Rather, he reminds us to recognize that the little kid you fell in love with years ago is still inside the teenager who now towers above you. 


At age two, it was jets. Sam knew the name of every fighter jet in the world and spent hours landing toy planes on his model aircraft carrier. His favorite movie was “Top Gun.” At three, it was animals. We gave him a 300-page guidebook, and he returned it to us within minutes, disgusted that it didn’t include something called a binturong. A day after I decorated his room in a jungle theme, he decided that his fourth year of life would be devoted to all things dinosaur. Books, movies, games, museums, we lived in the prehistoric period for what felt like an ice age. I delighted in the fact that when Sam decided he liked something, he didn’t just like it. He embraced it.


Sam’s 16th summer was spent working at movie theater. He took tickets, watched blockbusters, and drank way more blue Icees than considered healthy. And he fell in love with movies. Not in the casual movie-goer way, but in the “these are the top 100 films and I’m going to watch all of them” Sam way. Now when I peek in his room at 11pm, I find him glued to “Batman Returns” on his laptop because he “has to get through the franchise.” He tells me what he’s watched and what he’s going to watch, and he loves to debate why something was good or not good. It’s a lot like how we used to have never-ending talks about which dinosaur was the best dinosaur. Just recently he asked me for a movie recommendation, and I think he’ll really like the one I suggested: “Top Gun.”

Dr. Ginsburg tells us to see our teenagers as they deserve to be seen, rather than through their particular behavior at the moment. It’s a great reminder to not focus on their negative actions when these kids are still trying to figure out how to just exist. Take a few minutes to watch the video for more insights like that, and if you have any Then/Now memories of your own kids, I’d love to hear them!



This post is sponsored by the Center for Parent and Teen Communication; a new resource for every parent navigating the teen years #ThenandNowKids #CPTC 


Your Vacation Looks Disgusting

Hey, just a quick comment to say that while you’ve been busy filling social media with pictures of your exotic trips this summer, I’ve been busy doing something else: looking at them and trying not to puke. Please don’t take that personally. It’s just that seeing you enjoy life on #vacay makes me sick.

Like yesterday when I saw the pictures you posted of yourself in front of the Eiffel Tower with the caption “Tres jolie!” Tres gross would have been more accurate. Seriously, the cat hair covered futon I was sitting on at the time, the one in my basement apartment in Columbus, Ohio where I’ve been staying ever since I was kicked out of my last place for “excessive fish cooking,” is way prettier than that stupid metal tower. Needless to say, I did not hit “like.”

The photos you shared last week from Italy were even worse. Do you really think anyone with a brain wants to see sundrenched images of your “yummy!” gelato that you ate “for breakfast, lunch and dinner”? No, they don’t, because it’s sickening. I almost lost my lunch upon seeing your hand hold those tiny cups filled with the exquisite Italian ice cream that’s not available anywhere else in the world and probably tastes like angel skin. And good thing I didn’t actually lose my lunch because then I would have been out the $5 I spent on Nacho Fries at that Taco Bell I go to on my sad days. (Also, please note that I didn’t post a picture of my Nacho Fries because unlike you, I don’t always feel the need to show off.) (Also my fingers were too greasy to hold my phone.)

To recap: the field of lavender you posed in near Tuscany? Ugly. Your view from your hotel room on the Amalfi Coast? Hideous. The picture where you’re posing next to Rodin’s The Thinker posed like The Thinker? Gag me with an unoriginal spoon, Becky. Honestly, given the choice to slowly drive past a multiple vehicle crash on the interstate that’s located just 100 yards away from my basement apartment in Columbus, Ohio or to see your face covered in yet another ray of European sunlight? I’ll happily take the accident.

I know you may think that I’m being a little harsh, but that’s just because I don’t think you’re really enjoying your trip around the world on a seemingly limitless budget as much as you’re pretending you are. I know you, friend. I mean, not in real life, but I know you from Instagram because you don’t have your account set to “private.” And what I see in your photos is hidden despair behind your eyes that are behind your $300 sunglasses. The ones you bought from that artisan in Lyon who you posed with in a field of sunflowers. Remember that picture? All four of my cats puked up hairballs the size of Buicks when I showed them that eyesore.

I hope you understand why I won’t be liking or commenting on your pictures until you’re back home. I just don’t have the stomach for it. One more “How is this my life?” post where you’re riding a horse on a sunlit beach, and I’ll wind up in the ER with a raging case of intestional distress asking the nurse “How is this my insurance?” I chugged an entire bottle of Pepto after watching your wine tasting in Rome Instastory.

Anyway, please don’t think I’m saying all of this because I’m jealous. I’m not at all. In fact, I’ve had a totes amaze summer myself cleaning out those repossessed mobile homes down by the reservoir. No, I definitely don’t begrudge you and your ability to photograph well and not need five Vaseline filters like I do. It’s just that after looking at picture after picture after picture all summer long, I feel sorry for you.

Because your vacation looks disgusting.


Age Is Just a Number and My Number is Who Cares

Recently a friend and I were talking about all of the activity deals we’ve seen on Groupon. Escape rooms, belly dancing, milking a goat, there’s no end to what you can do with $50 and a couple of hours to kill. But then, when I mentioned that I saw a deal for skydiving and said there’s no way I’d ever try it, she asked, “Why? Because you think you’re too old?”

“Too old? That didn’t even cross my mind,” I answered before quietly deleting her contact information from my phone. “No, I don’t want to skydive because crashing face first into a longhorn bull doesn’t sound very fun. Same reason I didn’t want to skydive when I was 20, 30 and 40 years old. Plus, how awful would it be to die in a jumpsuit?”

I know she didn’t mean to be rude with her comment, but it’s stuck with me ever since because it made me realize that I really don’t care if what I do is age appropriate. Rather, I care if what I do is something I enjoy and if I don’t have to drive too far to do it. I wouldn’t even meet George Clooney if it meant heading downtown during rush hour. I’d Facetime him from the couch. I just haven’t ever seen a dividing line between “things for young people” and “things for old people.” To me, real age limits don’t exist. Only perceived ones.

That said, of course there are plenty of activities I have no interest in doing, but that’s because I’m pretty in touch with what I like and don’t like, not because I reached a certain birthday milestone. Pole dancing? No. Pampered Chef parties? No. The Puppetry of the Penis show in Las Vegas? Well, I’m kind of on the fence about that one. I could probably be tempted with free tickets if you have a connection to the X-rated theater world. Hit me up.

Of course, maybe you’re not as evolved/don’t give a f-ck/free spirited as me. Maybe you think you’ve aged out of certain things. Maybe you’re worried about looking stupid, or hurting yourself, or resorting to paddle violence when you try to play ping pong with a millennial and they won’t stop Instagramming with the caption “#Ballerz.” And if so, I urge you to do this: get over it. Do what you want to do. Live how you want to live. And if it’s tough, tell yourself one of the following to help you:

  • There’s no age limit on joy
  • If I survived the 80’s, I can survive anything
  • I have Motrin in my purse
  • Worse comes to worse, I’ll finally make the nightly news

And if what you decide to do is go skydiving, give me a call. There’s no way in hell I’ll join you in your plummet, but I’ll definitely make sure you don’t land on a longhorn.


This post is made possible with support from AARP’s Disrupt Aging. All opinions are my own.






Questionable Facts My Yoga Teacher Said In Today’s Class

The human foot has 2,000 bones in it.


If you break one of those 2,000 bones, you will never get your Chi back.


The best way to keep your foot bones safe is to put happy thoughts out into the universe.


Happy thoughts aren’t always about cute puppies, FYI.


But looking at cute puppies can lower your blood pressure by like, 120 points. On average.


Too much red meat can damage you reproductively.


But eating raw vegetables will turn you into a “Fertile Myrtle.”


That means if you’re dating an unemployed mandolin musician and don’t want to have a baby with him because he’s somewhat of a flake and smokes too much pot on weekends, don’t eat salads.


The best advice can be found cross-stitched on a pillow by a Grandma.


Bob Dylan invented that yoga pose where you stick your head between your legs and hum.


Or maybe it was ex-Beatle George Harrison who invented that pose.


George Harrison died before Ringo and that is a travesty of The Universe. YOU ARE MISSED, GEORGE.


At any rate, don’t do the hum/leg pose if you’re feeling faint.


Torso twists make your liver work more efficiently.


Inverted poses increase your creativity. But don’t try to paint upside down!


Many in the know say that the human ribcage is one of the seven wonders of the world.


The human ribcage was harder to construct than the Taj Mahal.


Some people call their ribcages their “Taj Mahal”, but it’s really a personal choice.


Passing gas is our body’s way of saying, “Hey, brain, I’m relaxed. It’s all good in da hood.”


On average, you pass gas 10 times in an hour-long yoga class.


A few of you pass even more gas than that! I think we all know who! Gerald!


We all have a third eye that we need to KEEP OPEN AT ALL TIMES.


Some people have four eyes, but none of those people are in this class because you people aren’t that advanced yet.


If everyone discovered the right way to breathe, there’d be no more wars. Give peace a chance! Inhale!


FYI, the right way to breathe is with your whole entire glorious body.


Innnnn, oooouttttt. That’s breathing.


Ouuuutttt, innnnnn. That’s breathing, too.


It’s never good to not breathe, even if it’s allergy season and you’re full of phlegm.  A doctor would agree with that advice, I’m pretty sure.


Yoga mats are 20% off in the lobby!