I am one of those people who is a freak (and probably a pain) about good grammar. Sure, I make allowances for auto-correct or (in a casual or personal setting) mindless errors made by quick action and/or lack of proofreading. Heck, I'm not perfect; I realize (sometimes too late) that I make grammatical mistakes that I shouldn't have because I know better. Heck, in some situations, I even use bad grammar on purpose. Those are not the things that bother me. What bothers me are the mistakes that people make because they just don't know any better—and worse, sometimes because they just don't care. That's unforgivable. It makes me fearful of the educational system (both public and private), and it makes me weep for future generations, who are certainly on the road to proving that Mike Judge's Idiocracy may be less fiction and more of a prediction (a sad, sad prediction).

What are some of the things that really grind my gears?

using an apostrophe to make a word plural. "Hey mom's! I need some help!" is not correct. With some exceptions, "'s" is used to denote possession, not number. Stop using it. Seriously. I got an e-mail yesterday that said "Get Dad's What They Really Want." I will never purchase from that company again.

not knowing the difference between "there," "their," and "they're"; "it's" and "its"; "here" and "hear"; "your" and "you're"; "four," "for," and "fore"; "specifically" and "pacifically"; "ask" and "axe".... Well, you get the picture.

"irregardless" used in a non-ironic way. It's not a word. Stop trying to make it happen. It doesn't make you sound smarter.

overuse of the phrase "such as" or any other term the writer/speaker thinks makes whatever mundane thing they're saying sound more important

"alot" and "allot" — They are not the same as "a lot." Really, they aren't. One of them isn't even a real word.

"ya'll" — Okay, I know I shouldn't be peeved about the misspelling of a slang word, but it bugs me. Why? Because it shows a lack of understanding of either the purpose of the word or how contractions work. "Y'all" is short for "you all"; thus, the apostrophe goes after the "y" as a replacement for the "ou" that is gone.

TXT-speak on anything other than text messages, twitter, or some other extremely informal and character-limited form of communication. If you send me an e-mail or letter that includes such gems as "Wat r u going 2 do 2day?" don't get mad if I don't respond. My lack of response is probably a lot more polite than the answer you would get back.

using "literally" in a non-ironic way to describe things that literally could not have happened


Sigh... I could go on for days. But I'll stop here, because the whole point of this post was to talk about making (note, not "makeing") bad grammar and spelling mistakes work for you, right? So here goes...

I recently started a job where I'm doing much more (almost exclusively) transactional type legal work than litigation. Switching practices like this has brought our my inner grammar geek in full force. You would think that my former practice (a litigation hybrid), involving a lot of memos and court pleadings, would have given me more encounters with bad grammar than my current gig (transactional work, for those of you that didn't click the link, consists of non-litigation things like drafting contracts); but it didn't. Don't get me wrong, there was plenty of bad writing to be seen in my days as a litigator. However, most attorneys who are drawn toward litigation tend to be good writers [I'm not talking about those general practice lawyers who do anything and everything; I'm talking about people who are strictly in litigation or litigation-hybrid practices of law]. Also, those who aren't good writers usually (but not always) tend to acknowledge their weaknesses in that area and leave the heavy drafting to the good writers. I suspect that I'm seeing so much bad writing in a transactional setting [not, mind you, coming from any of the lawyers at my current job, who are all as grammar geeky as I am], because when people start drafting things from a form, they get really lazy. And if they're already inclined to be lazy or just don't know any better, they don't know when the things they are copying are wrong, and they also don't know how to make their new additions to those forms look right.

Today, I received a draft [not from anyone at my company!!] that had the word (rather, "word") "interfear." Seriously. If you don't know what's wrong with that word, we're already starting at a deficit here. Honestly, I don't even know how someone could have given me a draft with the word "interfear," because the red swiggly line was clearly under that puppy. I mean, the only thing I could imagine other than pure laziness causing the person not to notice, is that s/he [not saying which] has written that word so many times, that s/he finally added it to his/her custom Word dictionary. If that's the case, that's just sad. Because if that happened to me, I would be inclined to do some Google research to see why Word hated my word so much.

Seeing this patently wrong "word," however, reminded me of an e-mail forward I got a long time ago about The Washington Post's Style Invitational. In one of the contests, they asked readers to take any word from the dictionary; alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter; and supply a new definition. The contest generated such awesome words and definitions as (my personal favorite) "sarchasm" (n.): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

Taking a cue from the witty readers who contributed to the Style Invitational, I decided to make lemonade out of lemons and come up with my own definition for "interfear":

interfear (n) the terror one experiences when burying a corpse (i.e. fear of interring. e.g., "I was supposed to be a pallbearer at my grandmother's funeral, but my interfear got in the way."); (v) to be afraid of placing a corpse in a grave or tomb (e.g., "My grandmother's funeral is Sunday, and I've been interfearing the funeral rites.")

I shared my made-up definitions with the co-workers who had commiserated with me this morning over the awful grammar in the document I was reviewing. We all decided to make this a "thing." The next time we get some godawful, "they really should have known better" spelling mistake, we're just going to make a new word out of it. Of course, this doesn't help at ALL with the everyday grammar mistakes that don't involve gross misspellings, but at least it's a start. And if you have any idea how to put a silver lining on those monstrosities, please let me know.





- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

One (ignorant) argument I always hear against marriage equality or adoption equality is that if gay couples get married and/or have children, the bigots some people don't know how to explain the concept to children. Well,bigots confused people, be confused no more! We addressed that issue in my house tonight with our four year old, and I would like to share with you how it went.

There's a boy in Little Diva's class we will call B. B and Little Diva have known each other since they were 18 months old and went to The Little Gym and then eventually preschool together. When they were in the same class at The Little Gym and at their first school, one of B's mommies was always with him. Same when they had swim class together. Since the kids started their new school last year, B's other mommy (who stopped working when she had twins) has been the one we see all the time. In the three years Little Diva has known B, it has never occurred to her that she used to see one lady all the time and then she started seeing another lady all the time. It didn't even occur to her when she saw them together and heard mention of B's mommies.

Flash-forward to tonight: At dinner, Little Diva is telling us how B's older sister got sick, so his mommy came to pick her up, but he stayed at school. And then she paused for a minute and started marveling at how big B's family was. When trying to count his family members, Little Diva said "Omigosh! He has daddy and his mommy and his older sister and his baby sister and his baby brother! That's, like seven [sic] people in his family!". When she said "his daddy," Pop Culture Dad and I looked at each other, and he gave me a glance that said "you take this one!".

When Little Diva was done with her (erroneous) counting, I first corrected the number and then the family structure. "Honey," I said, "[B] doesn't have a daddy; he has two mommies." So how did Little Diva react to this earth shattering news? "Oh! Okay! So he has two mommies and his older sister and his baby brother and his baby sister and him. Six. That's six people. That's a big family!" Yeah, I'd say she handled it just fine.

So if you're one of those assholespeople who thinks that others should be denied the basic and fundamental civil right of marriage and family simply *because you're worried about how in the world we're supposed to explain this kind of thing to our kids, worry no more. Chances are, they'll probably handle the issue better than you apparently have.



*Side bar: If you're one of those people who thinks we should deny others the basic and fundamental civil right of marriage and family (and the thousands of legal benefits granted in this country that come with the status of marriage) simply because your interpretation of your religion forbids it, then might I remind you: (I) of the anti-establishment clause of the First Amendment and that we don't live on a theocracy [try Iran. I'm sure you'll love it there]; and (II) no one's forcing you to marry someone of the same sex.

Star Magazine released its Top 20 Most Hated Celebrities list. Did your (least) favorite make the cut?

What this list says to me to that Star readers spend a lot of time hating celebrities who are barely relevant anymore. I mean, Shia LeBoeuf? What has he done (lately)? Katherine Heigel?? She's one bad movie away from being invited to 'Dancing with the "Stars"'!

And who's Chris Brown gotta punch or threaten to make number one? I mean, I feel like he's been trying really hard in the last few years to earn a high position on this list.

Notably absent? Donald Trump, Courtney Stodden, Andy Dick, and pretty much anyone who's ever been on a reality show with "Wives" or "Love" in the title, just to name a few.

While some of the celebrities totally make sense [I'm looking at you, Kristen Stewart... Though you should have ranked much higher], some of these are true head scratchers.

This month, The Mom Pledge is embarking on an effort called the Dear Mom Meme. The idea is that instead of using the internet to always talk about what we don't like or releasing our negative energy, to take a little time before Mothers Day to say something positive about or to another mom. Towards this effort, I dedicate this letter to my friend, T. Life has thrown her a lot of curveballs lately, and I just wanted to take some time to remind her and to let everyone else know just how fantastic I think she is.

Dear T,

You're amazing. I know that no matter how often the rest of us in the Fab 5 try to tell you, you seem not to believe it. But you need to hear this again: you are amazing.

You are beautiful, strong, smart, funny, kindhearted, and an amazing friend. You are also an amazing mother.

I know there are other single moms out there doing it every day, but don't let the fact that there are others blind you from realizing that what you do—how everything you do in both your personal and professional life is for the benefit and the goal of your wonderful son—is outstanding. It shows in your son. He is polite and intelligent (not to mention, handsome as all get out). You made him that way. YOU did.

You are a fantastic friend. Of course, I see it in our own relationship. But I also see it in how you interact with others. You are someone that people can always count on to be real, true, and kind. But let's not forget funny. OMG, you can crack me up!

You are a wonderful daughter. You do so much more than many people would do in your situation and probably even more than most people could physically do, considering everything you have going on.

I don't know where you find all the time in the day to do the things you do for your parents, your child, your friends and your coworkers, but you do. Life has dealt you some pretty crappy cards lately, but you have handled it—as you always do—with grace and poise. I know there have been a few times when you've felt just beaten and battered and just exhausted by everything going on, but you still managed it all with calm and class.

You are a wonderful woman. I admire you as a mother and a friend. I strive to learn more from you.

We all see it in you. I hope you can see it in yourself.

Love you, girl!

XOXO,
Pop Culture Mom

Hey you over there with they keyboard! Yeah you—the one on the message board or blog implying that everyone who doesn't parent exactly like you doesn't love their children enough, is psychologically damaging their child, and/or is completely destroying their children's chances of being normal, happy, functioning adults [oh, but you said you don't think those ladies are bad parents, so it's all good, amirite?]. Yeah, I've got a message for you.

Dear Judgy McJudgerson,

Amazing how you think you know on such bold and sweeping, blanket terms what is best for EVERY child. I'm sure your vast experience in raising [one child] / [three children] / [20 children Duggar style] to the ripe old age of [two months] / [11 years] / [42], combined with the books and blogs you faithfully read, has completely qualified you to determine what will and will not make for a productive, functioning adult. Can I borrow that time machine when you're done?

I have two children who cannot be parented the same way by the same parents because they are so different; yet you, perfect stranger who we have never met and will never meet, knows exactly what works and doesn't work for my children. Why haven't you written your book yet? It's sure to be a bestseller. After all, why do we need so many parenting books out there when your one philosophy on parenting will surely answer every question any of us have ever had?

Before I swallow what you're selling hook, line and sinker, I just want to make sure your parenting techniques will actually work for my children. I know you think all children can be molded the same, which is why your one philosophy applies to all children equally, but I really want to know how this is going to work. So let's just start with Little Diva for example.

Even though I know [you don't believe in any type of punishment, because that will psychologically damage my child]/[only believe in spanking, because anything else will spoil my child], what does Little Diva consider the single worst punishment for her—the one that relates to her individual personality, motivations and triggers? What are the three most effective rewards to offer her?

I know you already have your own very strict beliefs about diet or television or cartwheels, but—assuming this question is even acceptable within your parenting philosophy—given a choice between extra dessert or an extra hour to stay awake and watch TV, which would she choose?

What are her fears?

What are her favorite movies?

How does she typically react in a social situation with people she's never met?

How does she feel about spiders?

What would her reaction be on a 4' high beam? In a pool of water?

Who are her favorite non-fictional people excluding immediate family? [you know, when she isn't hating us for not following your soon-to-be-patented parenting technique]

What is her least favorite word?

Does she like tomatoes?

What? You don't know? But you're sure your one-size fits all philosophy works? Based on what exactly? Oh... Those books and blogs you read? Have you met the author... and his/her children? You haven't.... So why do you assume their way to raise children was even effective for their kids, let alone yours or mine? Because the author's suggested parenting techniques fits your own personal style, instinct, preference and philosophy? That's funny. I was acting on my own instincts, style, preference and philosophy too… and you implied that it made me a bad mother.

Until you can answer those questions with respect to my child---both of my children—you don't know them. You don't know their ticks or triggers. Unless you can answer similar questions about me or my husband, you don't know anything about our family structure.

So don't purport to assume you know how to raise my kids.

Most sincerely (oh boy, am I sincere),
Pop Culture Mom

Of course, the One True Way Moms will never read my letter. They're too busy telling perfect strangers online what's wrong with how they live.

Look, I know that people judge each other's parenting choices, just like we judge everything else. When I see things I don't like or understand, heck yeah, I judge. I may even rant to my friends about it or write on Facebook, maybe even post a blog. But there's a difference between judging something that is different from you and trying to dictate how others live. Moreover, I think most of us who silently judge are fully capable of admitting that while we prefer our own way, that doesn't make any different way inherently bad.

If you can't understand the simple concept of how we are all made different, which is why different things motivate and appeal to us, try thinking of individual parenting choices as other choices. I am a cat person. Dogs are okay. I've had plenty of them, but I'm not really that into them. I have some friends who can't stand cats. Me constantly mentioning my love of cats isn't going to change the anti-cat person into a cat person, and them countering back to me with the merits of dog love isn't going to persuade me either. Now let's suppose we have a friend who wants a pet, but doesn't know what to get. Of course we are going to both try to persuade her why our pet preference is best. In the end, though, that neutral friend is probably going to pick the pet that fits best within her personality and lifestyle. If she's a dog person, my cat argument may have sounded appealing... until she found an alternative that was more "her." I can't get mad at her for that. I can't call her and the other dog lover horrible people or irresponsible pet owners simply because having a cat wasn't for them. I mean, I could; but if I did, they would probably be well within their right for hating me and my insistent one-true-wayism.

I'm not that gal, though. I might question why anyone would ever prefer a dog. I might even think they're crazy for it. But at the end of the day, I will always acknowledge that while a cat is right for me, it isn't for everyone, and I shouldn't give a flying flip about what someone else does in her own household unless it directly or indirectly affects me. I also don't need to justify my choice of cat to anyone. And if I had a fellow cat-loving friend who was One-True Way about her cat love and who refused to respect anyone who owned a dog, I couldn't be friends with her. I am not in the habit of maintaining friendships with people who can only respect me when I am exactly like them. Heaven forbid I want to have my own opinions one day!

I know some of you think this is a ridiculous example, because cats and dogs don't really affect society, but how someone raises their kid does. But not really. Yes, there are some universal bads that have a long-term effect on society. People who choose to allow their kids to be obese are affecting health care costs, but someone who occasionally lets her kid have junk food that you don't allow in your house at all probably is not. People who are sexually or physically abusing their kids are probably affecting the society around you, but people who are spanking their kids or strict Positive Parenting advocates most likely are not. People who raise their kids religiously or who raise their kids atheist are likely not affecting you, but people who are raising their kids to hate and even engage in physical violence towards people of a different race, religion or sexual orientation, probably are.

We all want society to be better. We all want our kids to be nearly perfect (whatever our version of "perfect" is). However, there are only a few examples of truly universally bad parenting. The rest is all shades of gray. So tend your own garden before you go pointing out the dandelions in someone else's.

Post Note: After this was published, someone asked me if I'm not doing the same thing I'm accusing others of doing—judging someone's parenting style. I think it's a valid question. Here is my answer: In the same way people who are intolerant of bigotry, sexism, homophobia, etc. aren't "intolerant" on the same level as the bigots/sexists/homophobes [e.g., hating Westborough Baptist doesn't make you a hypocritical hater], I'm not casting judgment in the same manner as the one-true way parent. I don't care how someone parents. I really don't. Even if I don't like someone's parenting style, unless it falls within the rare exception of a Universal Bad warranting a call to CPS, it isn't my business. That was the whole point of this post. It's none of our business when people employ parenting methods that are different from our own. Most of those people know nothing about your kids and what makes them tick, so they have no business publicly passing judgment on your parenting style. And, quite frankly, they also lack the qualifications. So, no, I'm not trying to say "Hey, I bash the One-True Way Moms who parent differently from me." Heck, I feel the same whether it's someone with a vastly different parenting style or someone with whom I generally agree [I cringe watching another lactivist attack moms who use formula. Killing the cause, deary. Killing. The. Cause]. I'm just saying, until you've walked several hundred miles in another mom's pumps until you made it all the way home, don't go around telling her that she's not walking the right way. That's all.

This afternoon, The Huffington Post angered a number of fans on its Facebook page when it posted the following:

On las week's episode of Castle, Beckett and Castle had to find and question a witness named Bram Stoker. Yes, as in "Bram Stoker's Dracula." Once they found Mr. Stoker, this was the exchange:

Becket: Excuse me? Bram Stoker?
Bram: Yeah.
Beckett: Det. Kate Beckett, NYPD
Castle: And might I say how youthful you look.
Bram: [sarcastically] Witty! Never heard that before.
Castle: I've never heard anyone named Bram Stoker before. Except... Bram Stoker.
Bram: Apparently, he's a distant relative, and both my parents were English scholars. They thought it'd be cute. It wasn't. So what's this about?

As someone with... er... an unusual first name (and middle name, for that matter), I totally get this "not cute" sentiment. I'm sure back in 1977, my normal-named parents thought that giving me such an odd name would make me stand out in a crowd. While they were right, that standing out wasn't always a good thing.

Although my name makes perfect phonetic sense, it is almost always mispronounced. In fact, it is so commonly mispronounced that I am always shocked when someone says it correctly the first time. For one thing, people are always adding letters to and/or subtracting letters from my name in order to make it conform to a more common or known name or at least something that makes some sense. Although I always find this a little lazy (especially when people are pronouncing letters that are clearly not present and not even close to the actual letters in my name), I totally get why the human brain does that.

Reading is partly phonetics and partly memorization. There's a reason why preschoolers are taught "sight words." These are the words that you will just know upon sight, without your brain actually parsing out the individual components. However, we also have to learn phonetics, otherwise you would never know how to actually read a word that you have never encountered. So when you see a name that you've never seen before, one part of your brain focuses on phonetics while another (or the same part. I dunno. I'm a lawyer, not a scientist) tries to conjure up memories of a similar name you may have seen and pronounced before. So when you see an unusual name like mine, which has components of real names [since my parents creatively and tragically put their names together to derive mine], whether or not you stand a chance of pronouncing it correctly depends on if memorization or phonetics reigned dominant.

In addition to the pronunciation issue, one thing my parents clearly didn't think of when naming me was the Playground Test—ya know, that test that tells you how easy it would be for hateful, taunting children (which is pretty much all of them at a certain age) to come up with jeers for your child based solely on what rhymes or is easily associated with his or her name. For example, naming your non-German kid Adolf. My name easily lends itself to rhyming-based teasing. In fact, it is so easy to come up with a tease, that on a recent job interview, one of the interviewers asked me if I got teased a lot in elementary and middle school... and then she quickly guessed what three of the common taunts were.

Another issue my parents didn't think of when naming me? The resumé test. As many black professionals born in the 70s and 80s will tell you, many of our parents, completely high and giddy on the fruits of the black power movement did not really think about the fact that some day, two decades in the future, their children would have to compete in a world where we are submitting resumés along with caucasian and others whose parents weren't so creative (or kr8tv) in naming them. So, yes, while it isn't fair, there was definitely a huge period of time (and in some industries is is still the case) where a Laqueeshya, Tenequia or Dramé would not stand the chance of having his or her resumé viewed alongside a Susan, Debbie or John. The funny thing is, most of the parents who gave their children these awful names (my own included) have perfectly, generically normal names. These days, things have evened out. White and non-white people alike are just as likely to give their children crazy, unusual names (Pilot Inspektor, anyone?) or otherwise perfectly normal names with kr8tv spellings (How does one pronounce "Asthyleigh," exactly?). But does that make it any better?

Quite honestly, unless you're wealthy and/or famous... or if you simply don't plan on having a white-collar type career, names actually do matter. I know people who love unusual names or kr8v spellings will disagree with me, but as someone who has lived it and knows many others who have, most of us unusually named children didn't find our parents' kr8vitee remotely cute. We have always had to overcome that initial shock when someone sees or hears our name for the first time ["Well... um... that's... um... interesting! Is it a family name?"]. Instead of our first impression being created by the energy or personality we bring into the room, we are instead first judged on a crazy decision our parents made decades before. Sure, many (heck, probably even most) kids—even those with the most normal names—may dislike or hate their names, but there's a big difference between hating your name and being forced to overcome your name.

I'm not saying don't name your kids what you want. That's only something you and your significant other (if any) can decide. I'm saying just give it some thought beyond what you think is "cute" or "fun" at a given moment in time. Because that name you give (on average) less than nine months of contemplation is going to stay with another human being for the rest of his or her life. And if, in the end, you decide your desire for quirky and funny outweighs any angst your child may have over that name in the future, at least give them the option my parents deprived me: a normal middle name or nickname (even if tacked on as an afterthought after another unusual middle name) s/he can use in the alternative!

"Tell me about yourself..."--four little words that seem so simple. But are they?

We've all heard it before. Dates, job interviews, small talk at a party or professional event. But how do we answer it? And what does our answer say about us?

Obviously the answer to "tell me about yourself" is going to depend in part on the setting and the audience. You're not going to answer that question on a job interview or at a professional networking event with "On the weekends, I'm really into being tied up and beaten with small, light whips," even jokingly [unless, of course, your business industry happens to be related to S&M]. Just like I'm sure your attachment parenting support group doesn't really want to hear you laundry-list your resumé and all of your professional accomplishments. But even within a tailored setting, the way you answer that question can be tricky. Not to mention, there are those times when you are asked the question in one setting, when the intention is another altogether.

I was recently asked this question in a professional context. As I usually do in a professional setting, I started answering it from a professional standpoint--what my practice area is, where I work, how long I've been doing it, etc. I was cut off. "Nah... I don't want to know about your legal career. I want to know what you like when you're not being a lawyer. What do you like to do? Do you have any  hobbies?". Instantly, I relaxed. Suddenly, I no longer had that feeling of being "on." But then where to go? Do I mention that I have an unhealthy obsession (as many other lawyers do, I've found) to trash reality TV? Do I talk about my children? Shrug. So I began where I usually do, "I really like to write...".

For most of us, who we are is multi-layered. You can talk about your children or your hobbies. You could talk about your background from birth to present day. Or you could just talk about the week you've been having. But where do you begin? "Well, I was born in a small town near Timbuktu to John Doe and Jane Smith-Doe. There, I attended Almost-Timbuktu Elementary, where my first grade teacher was Miss Know-It-All...".

This is why "tell me about yourself" with nothing more bothers me. I don't know what information, if any, the asker is actually seeking. Not to mention, sometimes it feels like a trick: what do you prioritize about yourself? On a theoretical basis, the first thing that pops into your head should be the most important thing about you, right? But I suspect most people are like me, and within a millisecond, you've filtered your personality down to one innocuous thing about You© that you can share until you gauge who this stranger is and what his or her end game is. For any stranger who has used this question as some sort of personality or litmus test on me, sorry to burst your bubble, but you likely did not receive an answer that told you the things I feel are most important about me. We don't know each other well enough for that kind of disclosure. For anyone who used it because they really didn't know how to ask the right direct question to find out what it is about me they really want to know [which, I suppose in most cases is, "Do we have some common traits that can take this conversation from awkward introduction to a meaningful exchange?"], then I apologize if my answer did nothing but drag out the uncomfortable first-meeting scenario. But you've gotta work with me here!

For the personality test, I feel like there are so many other indirect ways you can find out what values a person holds dear. For someone like me (the "semi-open book" type), maybe your best bet is to skip the beating around the bush and just ask me direct questions. If you want to know if I'm a religious person in the same way you are, asking me "tell me about yourself" and hoping that somewhere in my rambling answer some church activities come up is really not a productive way to go [particularly if this is in a professional setting, since, ya know, it's usually best to avoid topics of religion and politics unless you have a reason to believe the other person is on the same page as you]. Why not just ask me outright, "So where do you go to church?" or "Do you go to church?". Yes, it might be momentarily awkward when I answer that no I do not go to church, nor am I Christian; but at least then we can quickly move on instead of you asking me over and over to "tell me something else about yourself." Because we will never get to anything close to that topic. We just won't. If there's something you want to know about a person, why not guide them in the right direction?

If "tell me about yourself" is your way of making small talk and getting past an awkward introduction, you have actually failed in that regard, because you have now made me more uncomfortable by forcing me into a situation where I am taking a 30-second personal inventory, where I have no idea what bits and pieces of information would be remotely relevant or interesting. How about asking more detailed questions, such as the person who stopped me mid-rehashing-my-resumé-track: "What are things you like to do outside of work? Do you have any hobbies?". In this particular instance, the pointed question led to skipping over my stock answer about writing [an area in which the asker had no interest], and into a nice back-and-forth about crafting, a rug I randomly decided to make, and an excellent kids' craft idea she made up for one of her children's birthday parties years ago. By focusing her general question on one particular aspect about me [hobbies], we were able to find some common ground which led to a pretty lengthy and mutually interesting discussion.

"Tell me about yourself" is such a horrible stock question. Whether you're interviewing someone, courting someone, trying to make a new friend, or just trying to fill some time while the person you really want to talk to is otherwise occupied, why not instead try something a little more direct or specific? You'll be glad you did.

Tell me: How do you all generally answer the magic "tell me about yourself" question?

I don't watch football when I can help it. I can't stand it, honestly. In fact, I didn't even know which teams were playing until I Googled it this morning. Pop Culture Dad, however, is a huge football fan, so I cannot escape the Super Bowl no matter how much I try.

The night before the Super Bowl, Pop Culture Dad and I were grocery shopping with the kids, and I decided to pick up some cupcakes. Most of the cupcakes that were for sale were Super Bowl-themed. Not knowing or caring which cupcakes went with which teams, I picked the purple ones. Why? Because my kids and I love purple. I asked Pop Culture Dad if I should have gotten the red cupcakes instead, and his response was, "Meh. It doesn't matter. I guess I'll root for Baltimore, since I really don't care who wins this one." I actually had to ask him (as if it wasn't obvious from what he said) whether Baltimore was purple.

In trying to determine which team I would faux-root for, I started trying to come up with non-football related criteria. I've seen a couple of pictures where one Harbaugh brother (the younger one) was hotter than the other. So maybe... But those pictures were clearly doctored, because there isn't that much of an appreciable difference between the two. Tie.

Then I thought that stupid player for the 49ers who made the homophobic statement had made it easier for me, especially in light of the counter-point made by a very articulate player for the Ravens. But then San Francisco generally is pretty gay-friendly, and the 49ers were actually the first team to make an It Gets Better video. So, once again, no clear advantage.

I've been to San Francisco but never to anywhere in Maryland. Loved everything about San Fran except the fickle weather. And it's close to Napa. Advantage Dan Francisco.

I hate gold, so both teams lose there. But while I'm neutral about red, I really hate it combined with gold, unless, you know, it's Christmas time... Or a Quidditch game. My favorite color is black and second favorite is purple. Advantage Baltimore.

Bottom line: as long as the Texans aren't playing, I don't really care who wins. Somehow, though, I found myself kind of hoping the Ravens would win. Probably because I know if I attended Hogwarts, I would have been in Ravenclaw rather than Gryffindor.

So what about the game itself? Well, I used to watch for commercials. But ad people have run out of creativity [as evidenced by that GoDaddy crap, which was so awful, I won't dignify it with a link], so instead I just stay plugged into social media and try to accentuate the positive.

Here are some of my reactions throughout the game:

Before the game:
- "Why is everyone talking about Ray Lewis like he's the second coming? Didn't he kill somebody?"
- "The dude with the tattoos... Kaepernick. He's adopted, right?"
- "I know we just left a birthday party, but... How long before the game do I have to wait before it is appropriate to break open the cupcakes?"

Pre-Game Entertainment
- "Sandy Hook... Crap. This better not make me cry."
- "Jennifer Hudson, too??? There's another person who'll tell ya all that's wrong with our gun-crazed culture."
- "Shit. I'm crying."
- "Alicia Keys? Pass! I'm not really into people who like to steal pregnant women's husbands. I don't care if he married him later. Guess she'll get hers later. How you getcha man is how you keep yo' man."
- "Wow. Alicia Keys. That kinda sucked. Like. Really. Bor-ring. Can we get JHud and the Sandy Hook kids to come back?"
- made the interesting observation on Twitter, Facebook, and inside my home that the assessment of Alicia Keys' performance was very strictly divided among racial lines. White folks loved it. People of color (all colors), not so much.

During the Game
- "How long until Queen B?"
- "Wow. Commercials suck. Seriously. When is halftime?"
- During halftime, I had an interesting conversation with Pop Culture Preschooler [hereinafter, Little Diva] about Beyoncé. She decided this week that she can out-sing Queen B any day of the week. After watching two minutes of the performance, LD decided her singing superiority was confirmed.
- Best observation on Facebook (credit to one of my favorite writers, Kyra Davis): Bey should have sang the National Anthem live and lip-synced the Super Bowl. We would rather see you dancing than hear that screeching. Whatever point Beyoncé was trying to make by singing live tonight... Um... She probably made the opposite.
- Where Bey DID kill however? That dancing. That body. DAYUMN she looked good... Until...
- Beyoncé should never stand next to Kelly Williams... Like, ever. Kelly is HAWT.
- "Single Ladies"... Bey put her hand down when she said "you shoulda out a ring on it," because Jay-Z did. But is it just me or did that it kinda made Kelly and Michelle look a little sad? Did she really need to go there?
- "Godammit! Beyoncé bootylicioused the lights out!"
- The electricity failure presented a perfect time to give the kids a bath. Couldn't have planned it better if I had forgotten to pay the Superdome's utility bills myself.
- best comment on Facebook about the power failure (by Pop Culture Dad's friend, BMW enthusiast): Just another example of classic Mercedes electrical failure.
- while the Gagnam Style pistachio commercial was as stupid as all pistachio commercials tend to be, I had fun doing the dance with my girls. Side note: I need to do Just Dance 4 tomorrow....
- While rocking Pop Culture Toddler [hereinafter, Super Girl] to sleep, I found myself Googling "2013 Super Bowl score." Then I remembered I didn't care.

Thanks to our girls' sleep schedules, Pop Culture Dad had to watch the game on DVR delay. How did I spend my time while he caught up the last 30 minutes of the game? By writing this, of course.

For those of you who hate football as much as I do, if you're stuck with a football lover in your life, how do you cope with the endless day of football and football commentary that is the Super Bowl?