A Day In The Life Of A Fictional Female Reporter

This Classic NEWSSVET Post originally ran on Apr 15, 2018.

9:17 am: Sleep with a source.

10:00 am: Sleep with my boss.

10:58 am: Find a powder-blue Oxford shirt that doesn’t quite button up over my breasts. Buy eight.

11:13 am: Internet.

11:45 am: Cultivate moxie, “stick-to-itive-ness.”

12:11 pm: Return to source’s house for more sex/to steal the incriminating book he keeps locked in his nightstand.

1:03 pm: Naked interview.

1:36 pm: Refuse to perform on-air puff piece about a cat show, demand to be allowed to

 tag along on big story; decide to strike out on my own and get to the bottom of things after being rebuffed.

2:27 pm: Sex on newsdesk.

3:00 pm: Sabotage source’s career in order to get the big scoop after sleeping with him one last time.

3:02 pm: Stare expressionlessly at computer monitor as if to say, “What have I done?”

4:15 pm: Publish big scoop, receive “well done” from boss I am sleeping with, whose approval I am no longer sure I want.

4:51 pm: Sex in press room during office party. Feels hollow, somehow.

5:39 pm: Return to source’s house for a quick round of hate-sex and then to help him find redemption. Together we’re going to find an even bigger scoop. And then I’m going to have sex with that scoop.

This story made me INCENSED on the writer’s behalf

I is deg.

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Totes are up! Get ’em while they’re there! I wound up re-ordering both Ship AND Mermaid, because I have a soft heart. If you have emailed me about a freebie and heard back, you are getting one. If you have not heard back, you are on the (at press time, 25 person) waiting list, from which I will claw a name whenever I get a new donation to the bursary. I have also added 37 Spear totes back to the storefront, about to become a collector’s item!

Remember, if you are International and order a tote, shoot me an email if you don’t get a chance to place your email address in your order, since I’ll be mailing those totes out myself and either charging you more or refunding you slightly (everything is coming to you the slowest and cheapest way possible.)

“You just get stronger”: How Powerlifting Saved My Life

The free weights were in back of the gym, which meant I had to walk a gauntlet of giant, muscular men all grunting and yelling and slamming weights to reach the empty squat racks. Thankfully they were all empty or I might’ve walked out, unwilling to wait, unwilling to loiter near the intimidating men. I struggled to move the 45-pound bar to a height that could work for me, panicking momentarily when it felt so heavy being hefted by my scrawny noodle arms, but after stepping into the rack you can’t leave without squatting; that would be ridiculous. I stepped under the bar, and the moment my hands gripped the knurling, the knurling gripped my traps — there was nothing but me and the iron. I took a deep breath and I squatted. I stood back up without falling over and I grinned.

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I started lifting in May of 2013. I was 23, just starting a pre-med post-bac program that was going to lead to medical school. I had quit my job as a preschool teacher, where I’d spent the past seven months overeating out of anxiety and boredom because there’s not much else you can do when you’re watching two-year-olds all day. When none of my clothes fit comfortably I decided to change my body instead of buying new ones, because I loathe shopping for clothes.

Running-loathing millennial that I am, I started to Google. Somehow I found this Nerd Fitness post about a powerlifter named Staci. The idea you could change your body composition without running was news to me, and Staci was close enough to my height and weight that her progress seemed attainable. So I kept reading. I bought Starting Strength. I watched form videos until I realized all I was really doing was procrastinating.

Starting Strength is (on the internet) the Beginner’s Bible for powerlifting. I’ve since gotten different advice and cues from other programs and more importantly from my coach, but it was an excellent starting resource for someone with social anxiety who didn’t have anyone to ask at the time. The most important thing I took from it was the importance of checking your ego at the door. Start with “just the bar.” Add weight every week; keep progressing until you can’t.

Movie Yelling With Mallory and Nicole: Captain America: Civil War

NICOLE: I have removed “off the record” on gchat which I never had selected in the first place.

MALLORY: I know, I had it selected
I always do

NICOLE: I mean there is no reason not to, except for the purposes of blogging about Civil War.
The young woman who tried to comment a thousand times about Bucky’s hair leads me to open with “we have covered Bucky’s bad hair.”
The hair was bad.

MALLORY: yes
I do also want to point out
that after I tweeted repeatedly about the hair’s badness and went to bed
you texted me
“you dumb fucking bitch you better call me as soon as you get up so I can explain Captain America to you”

NICOLE: I certainly did.
I did do that.

MALLORY: so explain it to me
what have I Missed

NICOLE: But I ALSO said you were right about the hair, for the record.
Here we go.
This is not a case of “a Marvel movie which doesn’t always make sense if you have not seen eleventy Marvel movies.”
This is a NAMED TRILOGY.
CAP ONE
CAP TWO
CAP THREE

MALLORY: I DON’T LIKE CALLING HIM CAP

NICOLE: (You are also correct that Cap is a bad nickname.)
lol

MALLORY: okay thank you
so this is not an Avengers movie