Mighty Girl
My face.

contact: maggie at mightygirl dot net

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Mighty Goods
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ReadyMade Magazine Blog
The Morning News

I read:
Bryan Mason
Heather Armstrong
Matthew Baldwin
Sarah Brown
Heather Champ
Matt Haughey
Eden Kennedy
Jason Kottke
Merlin Mann's 5ives
Obscure Store and Reading Room
Post Secret
Andrea Scher
Melissa Summers
Evany Thomas

In honor of Halloween, the best Jack O'Lantern I've seen in awhile.
4:13 p.m.
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Stolen from the archives of one of my favorite blogs, An Entirely Other Day:

"So there's this over-weight 45-year-old woman standing in line at Rite-Aid. She's wearing leopard-skin tights, and waiting to buy a twelve-pack of beer and one of those backyard Tiki torches.

And people say Americans aren't subtle."
9:13 a.m.
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On the bus this morning, a little boy who was sitting with his sister started singing, "Where's my funny bone? Where's my funny bone?" Actually, it sounded more like, "Wheres-meh-fonnybone? Wheres-meh-fonnybone?" But his sister must have understood, because after the obligatory moment of pretending to ignore him, she brought her fist down on his knee. Hard. He screamed, "AAGGgggrraaaaahumph!"

There was a four second pause, then he started singing, "Wheres-meh-OTHER-fonnybone?"

Kids are rad.
10:22 a.m.
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This site is crack in a little HTML vial. Hot or Not uploads photos of people and asks you to rate their looks on a scale of 1 to 10. I'm inexplicably mezmerized. With each click my brain gets heavier and duller until it takes me half an hour just to realize that I need to pee. Just...one...more...,...just...two..more.

Anyway, try it once. All the cool kids are doing it. You can stop whenever you want.
10:19 a.m.
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Since The Bridges of Madison County, I'm dubious when people say, "You haveto read this book. " But I finally read The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing and it rocked. The first book I've read in recent memory with a heroine who was funny and wasn't punished for it:

"No wonder I'm single," she says to the mirror. "Even I don't want to go to bed with these thighs."
I say getting married isn't like winning the Miss America Pageant; it doesn't all come down to the bathing suit competition.
"What do you think it comes down to?" she says.
I say, "Baton twirling."
4:56 p.m.
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Top three headlines from the November issue of Martha Stewart Living:

"Organizing Pots and Pans."
"Ironing a Table Cloth"
"Pantries of Maine"

2:42 p.m.
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The bus posters for Disney's new 101 Dalmations feature a bunch of puppies falling through the air. They have quizzical expressions, they're posed in awkward, falling-puppy positions. Cute, I guess, but puppies don't land on their feet. I can't get those 101 sickly thuds out of my head.
10 a.m.
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To: Me
From: A friend at work.
Scenario: He asked me to introduce someone at our awards ceremony.

Hi Bryan,

Normally, I'd do anything for you, but Nov. 1 is our deadline day. That means I'll probably be at work until the wee hours of the morning and won't be capable of waking up on Thursday. Additionally, speaking in front of large groups of people makes me want to huck.



congrats on your promotion!
And you're dead to me.

3:35 p.m.
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Ha! If you haven't seen the Adcritic ad for the Dodge Aries, it's a good one.

9:46 a.m.
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Someone at this ad agency is no longer employed. Here's a brief article about what happened. Stolen from metafilter.
4:41 p.m.
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My Girl Scout troop leader once said that raising boys was easier than raising girls because you could let them run and climb trees without worrying that they'd hurt themselves.
2:18 p.m.
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I turn 25 tomorrow. I send out thank you notes in a timely fashion, water my plants frequently enough to keep them alive, and have a 401K. At what point does one stop feeling self-conscious when walking by a high school football team?
9:50 a.m.
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Washington Post columnist Gene Weingarten set out to see if PR flaks would tell humiliating stories about themselves, knowing that they'd be printed, if Weingarten agreed to write glowingly about their client's product in the same article. A surprising number of them agreed.
2:35 p.m.
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God, I love the Martha Stewart magazine. She writes an editorial every month in which she reminisces about Christmases, or Easters, or Summers of yore. She types out her 1,000 words, blissfully unaware that one or two paragraphs in each essay are disturbing. Here, she waxes nostalgic about her daughter's days at summer camp:

"My frequent letters to her, she says, often mentioned misspelled words in her letters, with corrections. And there were envelopes addressed to people I thought she should write to, stamped and ready to send—these displeased her a lot, especially when they were addressed to people she barely knew."

11:03 a.m.
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Lanugo-- a coat of delicate, downy hairs, especially those that cover a human infant.
3:09 p.m.
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NADS. The unfortunate acronym of the National Association for Downs Syndrome.
11:04 a.m.
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I was in a cab last night when we passed a fresh accident. A very upset driver was kneeling over a pedestrian who was writhing on the pavement, bleeding from his head. My cab driver stopped to see what was going on.

Me: Oh my God! Oh my God!
Long, stunned pause.
Me: Jesus, can we do something? What can we do?
Cab driver: Yeah... That sucks.
10 a.m.
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Yesterday I saw a piece of graffiti that read, "Bongo?"
I said, "Yes, please" and waited for drumming hippies to stampede out of Starbucks.
Nothing happened.
9:54 a.m.
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I'm on the train this morning when I start paying attention to what I'm thinking. It goes like this, "Picante picante picante picante picante." I must have read it on a sign somewhere. After noting that my at-rest mental processes are those of a five year old, I start thinking of other words that stick in my head:

  • gouache
  • Donahue
  • torpor
  • punctilio
  • albondigas

    That last one is the spanish word for meatballs. Albondigas, albondigas, albondigas.
    4:43 p.m.
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    This morning I found a key on the sidewalk. As a firm believer in the tenets of English Lit, I expect an epiphany shortly.
    11:30 a.m.
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    Last night I went to an '80s bar where they had two rooms. One was for the Madonna-Prince boppers, one for the Morrisey-Cure ghoulies. Anyway, I was headed past the bar when I got shoved into this guy. We looked at each other for a second, and he grabbed my shoulder:

    Guy: Do I know you?
    Me: Yep.
    Guy: From where?
    Me: Sacramento.
    Guy: Yeah! Where did we meet?
    Me: You were the stripper at my birthday party.
    Guy: Ha! Right!
    Me: What are you doing in the city?
    Guy: I'm an investment banker.

    Of course.
    9:29 a.m.
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    This blog is my new best friend. I stole this from An Entirely Other Day:

    "The high school near my house recently started smelling like sperm. Two possible reasons spring to mind:

  • There are these trees surrounding the parking lot -- big carob trees, Ceratonia siliqua -- and in the Fall their fruit drops and starts to rot. One popular description of the resulting smell is "human ejaculant."

  • The students are back on campus.

    I'm not sure which theory disturbs me more."
    4:42 p.m.
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    This is an excerpt from an email to my friend Jeff, who asked my opinion on the election:

    I only follow politics marginally, and I don't identify with either party. I believe in smaller government (Libertarian/Republican stuff), but am more idealistic than most Republicans, probably owing to my age. I'm voting for Gore because:

    a. I like his commitment to the environment, and his leanings toward gun control.

    b. George Bush doesn't strike me as particularly bright or experienced. It's true that he has good advisors, but what happens when they disagree and he has to make the deciding vote? My impression stems mostly from his ill treatment of the press and his inability to interact diplomatically with them under pressure. I see national politics as a great big version of campus politics and I covered campus elections in college. The people who were jerks to me made bad politicians once they got elected. The people who were nice were much more effective because they were able to sway people to their point of view. I would have had a much tougher decision to make if they'd nominated McCain instead.

    c. Bush has done a pretty cruddy job in Texas. They've made some advances, but Texas is pretty much last in education, health care, and environmental stuff. Last in everything but capital punishment, in which they're first. Bush is a -huge- proponent of capital punishment. That brings me to my next point.

    d. Capital punishment. I used to support it wholeheartedly until DNA testing started turning up innocent people on death row. I think if there's a chance that even one innocent person will lose his or her life, it's barbaric. Also, from a pragmatic standpoint, it costs more for us to kill people than it costs for us to imprison them for the rest of their lives.

    e. I haven't even considered Nader because very few, if any, Republicans will vote for him and he has no chance of winning. Therefore, voting for Nader is effectively voting for Bush. However, if a certain percentage of voters vote for him, that creates a third political party. For some people, it will be worth "wasting" their vote in this election for the chance of having more candidate choices in the future. I don't agree because I don't think more parties are the answer, I think campaign finance reform would do a lot more to increase our selection.

    There you have it. Not entirely scientific, but that's me.
    10:58 a.m.
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    I love this post from Onfocus:

    "Today's date sounds like a telephone long distance prefix thingy: 10-10-2000."
    2:09 p.m.
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    I've been reading Russian poetry, which explains the two downer posts in a row. Observe. My sensitive side emerges. Anyway, here's an excerpt:

    What power a man has
    Who doesn't ask for tenderness!
    I cannot lift my tired eyes
    When he speaks my name.

    -Anna Ankhmatova
    11:53 a.m.
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    "Things I didn't know" (at left) is this week's most poignant entry from Exploding Dog.
    10:41 a.m.
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    The credit for catching this blunder goes to Bryan Hillebrandt, copy editing hun:

    "The labels would allow their entire catalog to be available for download, using the files that already preside on their customers computers..."
    5:01 p.m.

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    From: A college friend.
    Situation: Describing a couple he met at a party.

    "There's a definite lack of any humanness to these people, or as Jonathan Lethem says, 'they do not posses a correct amount of self loathing; thus, it is my duty to loathe them.'"
    11:15 a.m.

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    Kid Rock is suing his wife for child support payments because she wants visitation rights with their son. The guy isn't exactly struggling, but I agree with his reasoning. Mr... Rock has had custody of the boy for the last five years and says he wants the mother to "take some responsibility." Listen, when someone who calls himself Kid Rock has to tell you to take some responsibility for your own offspring, it's time to reassess.
    12:27 p.m.

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    Callipygean--Having a well-shaped buttocks.

    7:40 p.m.

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    I've been seeing this image in the subway, except the posters there have about ten giant purple pills floating around the elated woman. First it freaked me out, then I thought it was hilarious, now I realize that there's not nearly enough advertising featuring old women twirling amid floating pills. Ad world, how about it? More floating-pill, purple-ballgown, joyful-old-lady ads, please.

    10:45 a.m.
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    Oh man, I lovebeing a copy editor:

    "In its current incantation, BSS sends a user to the best site through DNS requests and responses."
    3:44 p.m.

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    The best part of an article I just read on a boy named Sho who is attending college at age nine:

    By the end of the day, his jeans pockets are full of the things he has collected: dead bugs and flowers, brown leaves and pebbles, dry twigs and grass. He talks to his father about philosophy, starts behaving when his mother threatens a "time out,"and ignores questions he thinks are too insignificant to answer.
    10:32 a.m.

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