Wednesday, December 12, 2018

The 12 Days of Christmas

A present suddenly showed up on our front porch on December 1. We opened it, and soon realized that someone was doing the 12 Days of Christmas for us. Gifts anonymously appeared every day for the next week and a half. 

There was a twist at the end.

Sunday, December 9, 2018

Some Really Bad Music

Meg's full-time job is as a writer for Well, that and mob boss. And serial killer. And thermal underwear model. If you can believe it, none of those jobs are even remotely related.

A few months ago she texted me and was like "YOU HAVE TO WRITE AN ARTICLE FOR THE BEEHIVE IN DECEMBER" and I was like "what if I say no" and she was like "I'M PREGNANT YOU CAN'T SAY NO OR IT'S A HATE CRIME" and I was like "well I chose to be gay so you can't yell at me because that's a hate crime" and she was like "I WILL MURDER YOU IN YOUR SLEEP IF YOU DON'T DO THIS" and I was like "you're pregnant. I can outrun you" and she was like "THEN I WILL HAVE ONE OF MY PEOPLE DO IT" and I was like "fine. Don't get your thermal panties in a wad. I'll do it." So I guess I'm basically saying that as it turns out those above-listed jobs actually are related.

What then happened is I spent a sad amount of time on the internet listening to music that is so bad that the internet later sent me an apology letter and a dozen red roses, which was thoughtful but also kind of confusing because I wasn't looking for another romantic relationship in my life, plus I'm pretty sure it's seeing a lot of other people.

Tuesday, December 4, 2018

Thing of the Day

Eli: We can't leave the house until we go through the pile of sheets in that closet and get rid of any we haven't used in six months. I'm sick of looking at them!

Skylar: Oh great.

Eli: Oh great what?

Skylar: You've chosen the Thing To Get Arbitrarily Angry About for the day.

Eli: What are you talking about?

Skylar: Yesterday it was that you couldn't find your favorite shirt because our drawers were "too messy."


Skylar: You were wearing the shirt when you freaked out about it.

Eli: Well that probably wouldn't have happened had the drawers been organized!

Sunday, December 2, 2018

Track Workout

I've been going through this phase for the past couple of years called "getting fat and aging" and apart from all of the fun parts, like eating and tv and lying on the floor after work having my servants pour candy into my mouth until I'm unconscious, it hasn't been great.

When I was 22 and eating enough calories every day to solve world hunger while simultaneously complaining that skinny jeans were too baggy on me, grownups (AKA, people between 30 and 55, which to me were all the exact same age) used to say variations of "enjoy it while you can because one day a grain of sugar will land on your face and then they'll have to remove your body from your house with a crane."

Remember those times? Remember when you could drink a gallon of cyanide while soaking in a tub of lard without sleeping for a week and the only effect any of that had was that it somehow made your skin glow?

Now if I turn on a cooking show for more than 3 minutes, I can't wear any of my belts anymore.

A few weeks ago I was lamenting the fact that all of my dress pants are too tight on me to button up and I said the words "I'M A FAT LARD FACE WHO DOESN'T DESERVE HAPPINESS," to which Skylar thought the appropriate response was a very sincere "you do too deserve happiness."

Tuesday, November 27, 2018


I thought that I was probably done having embarrassing things happen in a locker room.

I know. I was delusional.

But really. Surely I've met my quota by now. Surely it's someone else's turn to humiliate himself while naked in a room for naked people.

But no.

I haven't told Skylar what happened last week. I haven't told anyone what happened last week. I almost announced it at family dinner a few hours after it all went down. We were eating with Skylar's sisters and their children in Portland. But then I remembered that I couldn't tell Skylar this because then he would yell some form of "THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO BACK IN THERE." And I haven't let Skylar be right about anything ever so I don't want to start now.

He had told me he didn't want me to go back into the locker room that morning because we were under some kind of deadline for meeting Skylar's family to go shopping. I had brought a change of clothes to the gym and he had not, so he suggested (but in a voice that sounded more like a command) that I not shower at the gym, but instead head back over to the house and shower there, that way he wouldn't have to sit and wait for me.

Sunday, November 25, 2018


Skylar and I traveled to visit his family in Portland for Thanksgiving. Matt came with us because he is our child and we are proud of the boy he is becoming.

I hereby suggest that all couples everywhere get a non-biased third party to go with them to visit their partner's family for holidays. It was like bringing along my own personal audience. One who could provide commentary on everything that happens by looking up from their phone periodically and saying things like "be nicer to Skylar" and "get me some food" and "scratch my back right on this spot," because Matt doesn't entirely understand that we aren't his servants.

Skylar's family is lovely and we get along smashingly.

But the whole point of this post is to address the fact that people think that Skylar and Matt look like brothers, which freaks me out. Also, I think these people are wrong.

On our last night in Portland, we went into the city with Skylar's sisters and their husbands. We were at some place that had a photo booth and someone suggested that we check it out.

Tuesday, November 20, 2018


Look. I know. I KNOW. Putting up Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving is a sin that is only eclipsed by murder in severity.

I know that. You guys. I helped vote for that rule. I canvassed and everything. When they sent us those forms in the mail asking us to rank the top five worst sins in order, I even putting this one in front of Choosing To Be Gay.

When I see Christmas decor at stores in October, I ask to speak to the manager. I even hold a purse under my arm and wear a Bump It in my hair when I do it.

I consider myself on the front lines of the War on Christmas up until December 1 every year. I go to all of the secret meetings. Remember when Starbucks changed its holiday cup to be less overtly about Christmas and all of your uncles who have never gone to Starbucks in their lives posted about their boycott decision on Facebook?

That was MY idea.

But you guys. I was bored and we are going to Portland for Thanksgiving and so I decided I wanted to come back to a house that already had its Christmas decorations up.

Saturday, November 17, 2018

O.J. Simpson

This week, I have a story from when I was 11 years old. I can't believe I waited this long to tell it to you. You can hear it on Strangerville this week, and I've included the text below.

Also, I'm supposed to remind you to go leave us a review on iTunes or your podcast app of choice, if you haven't already. The reviews help us exponentially. Really. Seriously. Even one extra review will make our day and put Meg into labor, which she wants. I'm not kidding.

Please enjoy.


This time in Strangerville, Meg and Eli discuss “the levels of Mormonism.” Meg agrees to let Eli deliver her baby. And an 11-year-old boy participates in a wild mock trial.
Mock Trial, by Eli McCann
Production by Eli McCann and Preg Walter

The O.J. Simpson trial happened in 1995. Anyone who was alive and cognizant then probably recalls that for the better part of that year, no one talked about anything other than the O.J. Simpson trial.

Tuesday, November 13, 2018


Make sure to check out Jolyn's new story on Strangerville, if you haven't yet!

I was riding on the Subway when I heard something that hurt my ears. It came from a woman's mouth. She was in her 50s. Pleasant-looking and probably kind. So that's why it caught me so off guard.

"Larry," she said to the man sitting next to her, a man who looked exactly like her but bald, so I assumed they were married, "did you get a good pitcher of the Empire State Building?"

No. She wasn't asking if he had purchased a pitcher in the shape of the thing. She clearly meant "picture." You know. That word that has the letter C in the middle of it and is not even remotely similar in meaning to the word this woman had said.

It caught me off guard that she would say such a thing because I firmly believe that saying "pitcher" when you mean "picture" actually makes you a bad person. And she just didn't look like a bad person.

I mean, I'm not saying that doing this makes you truly evil. On the scale of indiscretions, this habit would fall exactly between sitting through a green light with a row of cars behind you and first degree murder of a pretty child. So, no, it won't necessarily send you straight to hell, but it will necessarily make you possibly deserve it.

Sunday, November 11, 2018

Mock Depositions

I got to New York City a few days ago because my law firm decided that I should go to this training class.

I decided not to be offended by the suggestion, even though the class is really meant for people who are pretty recently out of law school. It's a deposition class where we spend several days taking mock depositions of fake witnesses while a panel of teachers snorts coffee and probably cocaine to try to stay awake long enough to give feedback because, as it turns out, there is something more boring than a deposition and that is a mock deposition.

It's not all bad. And the less cynical version of myself, the one that sometimes gets enough sleep and doesn't have shingles, would probably admit that the class is really helpful. This, despite the fact that a good portion of it is geared at explaining to the students what a deposition is in the first place, which might have been helpful to hear before I took eleventy depositions over the mumble-mumble years since I finished law school.

Obviously my main objective when walking into the class on the first day was to become as popular as possible because my popularity is an exact measure of my self-worth. And so I positioned myself to make all of the right jokes in all of the right places in front of all of the right people.

But because the class is really geared toward people who pretty recently finished law school, I'm a solid decade older than nearly everyone there, which is not a big deal if you're, like 75, but which is a surprisingly big deal if you're say 34.