Mighty Girl
My face.

contact: maggie at mightygirl dot net

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You'll also find me here:
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

Jane Kenyon is my favorite poet. Below are two short reasons why, but you really should read Otherwise and Let Evening Come.

The Shirt

The shirt touches his neck
And smooths over his back.
It slides down his sides.
It even goes below his belt—
down into his pants.
Lucky shirt.


The dog has cleaned his bowl
and his reward is a biscuit,
which I put in his mouth
like a priest offering the host.

I can't bear that trusting face!
He asks for bread, expects
bread, and I in my power
might have given him a stone.
4:31 p.m.
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Subject: Affection.
And Tom in love is an absolutely sickening sight. Like if you go on a double date with him, which I did once, you put your date in the car, get into the driver's seat, and wait three and a half minutes for Tom and what's her face to make out and debate who sits on what side in Lady and the Tramp voices. This is all very strange to a guy whose idea of romance is saying "you wanna be on top or on the bottom?"
3 p.m.
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Yesterday at lunch, a friend pointed out that I'd packed my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and fishy crackers in a Sephora bag. Perhaps he thought it was sort of like wearing pigtails and spike heels, or affixing a Big Bird sticker to the bumper of your Porsche. To be fair, red lipstick and Jiffy are a tough combo, but I like to think I can work the look. The look being peanut butter and red lipstick all over my chin.
2:58 p.m.
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When I was in college, my geology professor told us about Lake Nyos, which had formed in a volcano crater in Cameroon, West Africa. The volcano continually released carbon dioxide into the water, and in 1986 the lake flipped over. The CO2 came to the surface, rushed down into the valley, and suffocated 1700 people.
10:13 a.m.
Neat project alert:
Q7A (One question, seven answers) is a brand new site. Each week there's a new question—this week, it's "What are you wearing?"—and readers get a chance to answer via email. Seven of the best answers appear the following week. Similar to what Sippey.com used to do with his occasional random question, but more structured. The site is just getting started, so send some answers in to help out, or check back in a few weeks to see what's up.
9:43 a.m.
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Everywhere I went this morning, they were in front of me. The girl who tried to run her obviously damaged FastPass through the electronic reader (eight times), the woman who decided to rummage through her handbag at the top of the escalator, the man obliviously reading his book in front of the bus door when there were plenty of empty seats. Wherever it is I'm going in life, stupid people are in the lead.
10 a.m.
I'm about to give a gratuitous plug, so if you don't want to see me whore myself, cover your eyes. Still here? Blogger, the free and fabulous Web tool I use to post to my site, is up for a Webby award. Though the Webby people have inexplicably placed Blogger in the Personal Site catagory (beh?), I still think you should give them a vote. Good service, I like all the people who got it going, and its helped a lot of people take up online journals. Also, check out all the other sites up for awards. Good way to build a knowledge base about some of the cool stuff online without having to do the actual surfing. Go forth!
9:50 a.m.
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This morning I saw a shiny penny, head side up, winking in the sun all movie-like. "Pick me up," it beckoned in its little Abe Lincoln voice. "All the day you'll have good luck!" But I just left it there. Something's gonna fall on my head.
10:05 a.m.
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Conversations with my nephew, Part II:
Me: Baby, can you hand me your shoe?
Trevor: I not a baby anymore! I a little tiny big boy!
1:39 p.m.
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Everyone wants to know What Women Want. Sarah and Regina have some pretty clear ideas. An excerpt:

Sarah: Because the thing is, Frat Guy is often Balding And In Denial Guy.
Sarah: So do I!
Regina: And I don't hate Regular Old Secure Balding Guy!
Sarah: Nobody hates that guy! He's secure! He's regular! He's balding! We love him!
Regina: LOVE!
Sarah: He eats olives!
Regina: He wears PINK!
Sarah: Yes!
Regina: But not Balding And In Denial Guy!
Sarah: No!
Regina: Owns FIVE Frisbees!
Sarah: DOESN'T hide the porn!
Regina: WON'T go out for sushi!
(via attaboy)
1:45 a.m.
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Two fabulous entries from Bucolic Front:

"can't sleep...clowns will eat me...
can't sleep...clowns will eat me...
can't sleep...clowns will eat me..."

"from waitress on telephone:
me 'hi - can i place an order for carry-out?'
her 'okay, but you'll have to come get it.'
me *blink* 'okay'"
10:49 a.m.
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Ladies night conversation turns to travel:

-Wait, I missed the story. What's the story?
-She's wondering whether to go out with the guy again. She slept with him for the first time and it was pretty bad.
-How bad?
-He didn't visit the Netherlands.
-Wouldn't go South?
-Nope. I don't get it. It's so much warmer down there.
3:43 p.m.
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Ovum Design. Ovum Design? Who thought this would be a good idea? Probably the same guy who put a little animated ovum in the site intro. Imagine the meeting:

The Idea Guy: Ovum. Like an egg. You know "hatching" ideas, "giving birth" to new concepts.
The Skeptic: I don't know, doesn't that sound a little odd? Like we're naming our company after part of the reproductive process? It's kinda... gross.
The Big Boss Man: Conception... Creation... You know, I like it.

Go to the site and watch the egg drop. But for the most amusing part, take a peek at the staff list: Jason, Kenneth, David, Grant, Geoff. Not a single ovulater among them.
3:01 p.m.
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So, I've been collecting photos again. These people are working, playing, and fighting, but all of them look as though they're dancing.
10:09 a.m.
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Estivation--passing the summer in a state of torpor
1:43 p.m.
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The Sacramento News and Review has a short story contest every year. I think entries have to be under 52 words. I clipped this winner from several years ago, and came across it again today:

Choosing a Mindful Mate
She wanted to see how mindless people could be at a party. So she mixed Crisco, vinegar and assorted spices in an attractive pottery bowl and set it next to a basket of chips. It went as fast as the bean dip. Except one man deposited his mouthful into a napkin. This would be the man for her.
3:32 p.m.
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People in the Neighborhood:
The guy three houses down from me has a big dog. Every time I pass, he nods toward the dog and says, "He's friendly." The first time, I didn't think anything of it. Around the fifteenth time, I started to get uncomfortable. My theory is that my neighbor doth protest too much. At some point, that dog must have killed a small child or his owner wouldn't be so insistent about how friendly he is. Friendly as in, "I just don't understand why Cuddles ripped that woman's arm off, he's always been so friendly."
2:19 p.m.
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My cousin Ben makes a discovery about human nature:
"I have a Yahoo! email account and I was poking through my various settings and I ended up on my user profile page. One of the fields that people have the option of setting is Marital Status... Among the many choices was this one: Married but looking."
2:50 p.m.
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This may be a little worn by now, but I still find it endlessly amusing: Differences between male and female orgasms. (Thanks, Swen.)
1:45 p.m.
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An autistic man walking in front of me:
"A cigarette butt on the sidewalk. A napkin. A straw."
3:08 p.m.
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