A Letter To The Daughter I May Never Have

This is sad but beautiful. I think any parent can relate to this, the fears we have of what our kids lives will be like and that almost daily nagging thought that tends to pop into your head out of nowhere “am I f***ing it up??!” There’s no manual for this.

amanda trusty says

My dearest daughter,

I’m writing this to you at age 27, at which point I still don’t know how to change a diaper.

And I have to tell you right away, I live in a world where planes crash unexpectedly, and love doesn’t always win, and I eat pesticides for breakfast. My neighbors fight when they’re drunk and my friends have cancer and twelve-year-old students sell pot out of their lockers at school. I’m sorry darling, but this world is no place for a child.

I’m looking at a beautiful bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table that your potential daddy bought me three days ago and they’re wilted because I forgot to change the water. The sink is dirty and the recycling bin smells like sour milk and Coca-Cola. My home is no place for a child to grow.

But goodness it would be so gorgeous to meet you…

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Got Food Malaysia?

Coz we're cute like that.

Coz we’re cute like that.

The other day I happened upon an interesting fact about the husband and I, our “thing” is eating out. Some couples like going to watch the latest movies, some like going on hikes, some like S&M. Us, we like sharing a well cooked meal together. We also like lots of other things, we can spend hours together in a bookstore, we enjoy a good comedy, we enjoy a good dorking out session but if it came down to it, the thing we both enjoy doing more than all the other things is eating good food. That is our common ground. No day together starts without going to get a good breakfast. We also, commonly, get really annoyed with badly cooked food. And that brings us to Malaysia.

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Ma’am, Are These All Yours?


Few things irritate my darling husband more than generalizations. Quickest way to get under his skin? Tell him a “you men are all the same” line. He can’t stand the image people have of men and what they are ‘like’, I suppose because he is so far from your typical male and that is one of the things I love about him. He loves cooking, can spend hours in a home ware shop and the thought of a ‘boys fishing getaway’ makes him cringe more than anything else. He is intuitive, caring and a wonderful, wonderful dad and husband and would rather spend an evening in with his family than out drinking anyway, so I can get why he gets annoyed when people refer to all men as being the same, especially because its normally said in a criticizing manner.

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The devil, the fighter, and Jimmy with his roses.

This is lovely. I absolutely enjoyed reading every last word. May we never stop finding things to fight for, because then there’s nothing left. I know someone who has seemingly given up the fight and no amount of words seem to change that, I wish I could climb in her head and move around the little turning wheels but alas, it is not my journey.

hannah brencher.


My Uncle Jimmy died on Saturday.

I found out about it on Sunday morning while roaming through a random Target in the middle of Greensboro, North Carolina. I was trying on shoes I didn’t need when the call came through. My mother told me they were taking the ferry to Long Island the next day. One shoe was on. One shoe was off. Looking like Cinderella in a maxi dress with combat boots, I found out he was gone.

That’s the weird thing about losing someone— you expect everyone around you to stop what they’re doing. You expect them to get it. You expect them to put down the shoeboxes and stop surveying the hairspray that give the most volume. You just expect everyone to be still for a few minutes. That’d be nice.

And it would also be nice to walk up to the cashier, the one with the…

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Whats On The Menu, Phuket?


“Is that chicken brine, antibiotic and hormone free and organic?”

Are you going to get sick eating from a food vendor in Phuket… Possibly! No, in the almost 3 months we have been here I have not been sick from eating the local food but then again, I’m a picky eater. My daughter on the other hand has not been so lucky.. she loves sausages and she loves them even more on a handy skewer, so when we popped up to the shops yesterday and the smell of freshly cooked sausages wafted down to us she had to have one. Two hours later. The sausage made a second appearance. All over grannies duvet. And clean clothes that were nicely folded on the bed. Thankfully she did not suffer any long term side effects but it definitely gave me a wake up call. My carefree attitude to street food is a little less carefree, needless to say.

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