Snow in Atlanta: We're All Going to Die Because There's an Inch of Snow on the Ground

The view from our house on our last night on Earth.

There is something really satisfying about watching life devolve into a parody of its stereotypical self. And every few years, when the snow rains down its freezing flakes of death upon the city of Atlanta, that is precisely what happens.

How to Get Everything Done: Time Management Tips from an OCD Luddite

As January fades into February, I can almost hear the exasperated sighs of people who have broken their new year's resolutions. New year's resolutions are for sissies. Seriously. You should be making smaller resolutions every single day, because planning an entire year with a single statement or goal is simply not practical. The key to achieving your resolutions isn't particularly glamorous or exciting: to achieve your resolutions, you have to take time every single day to plan your life.

I know, it doesn't sound very exciting. Much easier to insist that you're going to be "more passionate in life," lose 50 pounds, or "be a better person." But these are empty goals that aren't backed by a clear plan. Because of that, they're doomed to fail. So I'm going to let you guys in on a little secret: I get everything done every day, without fail. I have a huge list of clients who place all sorts of demands on me, and I have never missed a deadline. I've never forgotten about something I had to do. I am never surprised when I have an easy or stressful week. I'm not bragging. I'm telling you that if you plan your time, you can be like me.

What is Feminism?

It's Saturday and Jeff has the flu, so instead of a rollicking evening out, I'm at home cuddling my smartphone. And that means Facebook. Lots of Facebook. Whenever I spend too much time on Facebook, I end up fighting with someone about feminism. These fights typically require me to explain basic, fundamental terms to my adversary. My adversary is almost always a man who is too lazy to educate himself, to Google basic terms, or to even temporarily disabuse himself of stereotypes.

Street Harassment: Take 2

Earlier today, I put my post on sexual harassment on Facebook, and I got a pretty overwhelming response. The reaction reminded me yet again that I have awesome friends. But we also ended up talking about self-defense strategies and the like quite a bit. I wrote my original piece not to garner sympathy, but to emphasize that this is a social problem that many -- if not all -- women struggle with at one time or another. I didn't do a particularly good job addressing some myths about street harassment in my first post, so thought I'd give it another go.

A Week of Sexual Harassment

I still remember the first time I was sexually harassed by a stranger. I was 13, on vacation with my best friend Mandy, and some guy chased us down the pier commenting on our "tits." It was terrifying. This kind of harassment has remained terrifying for the intervening 17 years. I don't think I will ever get used to it.

I often hear from men that they'd love to be constantly complimented by strange women. But street harassment is not a compliment. These men don't, for one second, think I'm going to turn around and ask for their number. In fact, when I do respond to them, most of them become violent or angry. Sexual harassment is a way of controlling and policing women. It requires me to spend more energy doing the same task than it would take my husband or brother. They don't have to answer questions about their clothing or appearance; I do.

I've been meaning to catalog a week of sexual harassment for a while now because I think it might change men's opinion on what it's really like to be a woman in the world. I started doing it a few months ago, then got worried that I'd hear, "well, you were wearing provocative clothing/too much makeup." And so I backed off. But my fear that I'd receive that kind of response is exactly why I need to write this. Atlanta is particularly bad in terms of street harassment, so my experiences may not resonate with everyone, but they're still my experiences. I'm making a note of what I was wearing each day so that I don't have to listen to a bunch of garbage about my clothing or appearance and how they cause me to be harassed.

Lavish Me With Praise: I've Solved the Marriage Last-Name Problem

I didn't change my last name when I got married. My best friend did. I made a huge deal about not changing my name and threw fits every time someone addressed me as Mrs. Filipovits. My bestie insists that everyone refer to her by her married name. We're both dedicated feminists, and both of us had a cornucopia of good reasons for our decision; many of these reasons, but not all, were feminist ones.

For the Love of Dog

I had my first real conversation with Zora, my dog, a few days ago. Through a complex set of gestures, I managed to get her into the exact position I wanted her, convince her to ignore the beef I had put in her bowl, and then respond to her frustration in a way that soothed her.

No, I'm not going crazy. It's just that, after almost 10 years together, Zora and I are finally learning the subtleties of one another's communication styles. With this comes the ability to communicate much more complex concepts than sit, come, and stay. It's like this in any relationship. Even with the assistance of human language, it takes several years to really understand another human in the way Zora and I have grown to understand one another. But when you finally gain real understanding with another person, your time together is just beginning.

New Year's Resolutions

Happy new year to my 2.5 readers! The .5 is my dog, who recently opened his own Facebook account. I'm normally not particularly fond of new year's resolutions because they seem like little more than the recipe for self-loathing. I'm also on a perpetual quest for self-improvement and tend to make weekly, daily, and monthly resolutions, so the year-long resolution doesn't make much sense to me.