I ain’t even mad.

I’m not complaining. I’m simply posting a picture of our weather forecast for the next week. Think what you like.


It could be deprivation of sleep insanity, but I want an umbrella hat and also this kid.

Let’s talk about the rain, and how Godd*&mnf*&^ing useless umbrellas are.

If it’s raining, chances are it’s windy. You know what wind means? Your piece of crap umbrella is going to flip inside out. I don’t have an anger issue, but all I can think of doing is slamming my umbrella on the ground, shouting obscenities at it and praying it gets run over by a dirty double-decker bus.

This week has been absolute horrendous weather in London. Non-stop rain and wind, and everyone’s in a bad mood. On the way home the other day I was thinking there have to be better options than a flimsy, inside out umbrella. Here’s what I came up with:

1) Covering myself in a trash bag. If I could let go of the shame, I’d be totally dry.

2) Umbrella hat. This would keep my hair dry, and since it’s so small it most likely wouldn’t flip inside out. On a good day an umbrella really only keeps your top half dry anyway, so the hat is almost on par and would probably have a much higher success rate in keeping your head dry.

Coincidentally, just after I thought this I saw my friend Clay’s Facebook profile picture, and guess what he has?? An umbrella hat!

I’m passionately anti-umbrella, but not when it comes to this hat. Mom, Christmas present?

On to point number two for the day.

OK, I’m just going to come out and say I’m a terrible person and I don’t find babies cute and am pretty much completely disinterested in children because they really, really annoy me.

Have a baby? I’m not interested. If I’m smiling and saying your child is cute, it’s almost certainly a lie. Not always, but probably. Your baby, like every other baby, probably looks like a little peeled potato with eyes and a mouth. Unless you’re Adrianne, who manages to take one adorable picture after another of her baby. Look at this!

I don’t even know her, but I still read every post about her kid because she’s so dang cute.

Anyway, my point is, I want this kid because she is literally the cutest little girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life:

I was randomly surfing blogs today when I found this blog, and saw this kid, and then I went on a mental spiral of self-doubt.

I’m 27, and most people would say getting divorced is walking in the opposite direction. I never thought much about having babies because I dislike them, and in any case I thought the option was always there if I ever got bored of having a fun life. Now that I’m getting old, I realize the option is not always there, and since I’m walking in the opposite direction it could be years before it’s even a realistic option should I decide to not hate kids anymore.

I saw that little girl and got worried. What if my future is me at 50, with an unused, wrinkly, dusty womb, sitting there surfing blogs about happy families with nothing more to do with myself than fondle an over-sized mug* of iced coffee while stroking one of my cats that I’ll most certainly have if I ever save enough money to buy my own place.

* That I stole borrowed from a friend because I was too cheap to buy one. Hi, Dan!

Speaking of which, living on my own, another worry!

One of my friends said the fear of dying alone and having my carcass not noticed for a week (or longer!) was not a reason to fear living on your own. Whatever. Just because he lives on his own and hasn’t yet died and been undiscovered for a week doesn’t make him some kind of authority on single living. It could totally happen. In fact, in Sex and the City Miranda talks about this and worries she’s going to die and be eaten by her cat before anyone notices. I mean, isn’t everything on Sex and the City fact? 😉

I e-mailed my also 27-year-old friend in a panic this morning and this was her reply:

“Sara, welcome to my world. I’ve felt like this for a good couple of years now. But you just have to put the feeling on one side, pretend it’s not there and just convince yourself that life will work out in the end. We still have about 7 years — it’s not much, but it’s not dire straits yet!”

Here’s to the next seven years! May it be filled with umbrella hats and happiness, whatever form that may take!