• DRINK TO THE LASSES: Notes from a Woman's College Womb
    DRINK TO THE LASSES: Notes from a Woman's College Womb
    by Mary Beth Ellis
  • Twentysomething Essays by Twentysomething Writers
    Twentysomething Essays by Twentysomething Writers
    Random House Trade Paperbacks
This area does not yet contain any content.


We need to have a very important discussion about giraffes.

How do you move them?

My home zoo in Cincinnati is building a new home for the giraffes, which means that they had to clear out for a while. They're crashing on a pullout couch right now in Cleveland's zoo.

How did they get there?

I'm thinking not standing up, like in an episode of Jim The Small Child Nephew's Curious George cartoons, which showed a giraffe on a train, its neck sticking out above the railcar. Which, initially, makes sense, but I foresee Serious Issues when it's time to go through a tunnel.

Maybe they use a truck and put the giraffe in a NASA-style payload cannister. But, again: Overpasses.

I've seen giraffes sit--I suppose this is their giraffe-casual, hanging out posture-- but I imagine it's difficult to get them to stay there for a five-hour journey to Cleveland. I wouldn't. I'd have to get up to pee at least twice.

I guess maybe the handlers tranquilize the giraffes, lay them down, and toss 'em in the back of an 18-wheeler. Which has to be quite the waking-up experience for the giraffe. "Well, this morning I suppose I'll get to eating those leaves over by the... Wait a-- What th--Am I in Cleveland?"

savannas at: mbe@drinktothelasses.com


They Never ID'ed Us At the Campus Bars, But If You're a 98 Year-Old Nun Trying to Vote, You're Screwed

Well done, alma mater.

Well done.

proudly sing out at: mbe@drinktothelasses.com



We need to have a very serious discussion about food touching, which sounds awesomely dirty, but is actually a matter of great national importance. I don't mean you touching food, or food touching you. I mean this business of food touching each other.

I am very, very into safe food sex. The potatoes are not allowed to touch the corn, the corn is not allowed to touch the chicken, and if the chicken gets anywhere near the chocolate cake, I will cut you. I've felt this way even before I saw Jim The Small Child Nephew dip a Peep into a pool of ketchup: Food must keep unto itself.

Josh The Pilot, he doesn't care. He mashes the potatoes with the corn with the chicken and he'd throw the cake in, too, if I didn't stop him on behalf of my own gag reflex. "It all goes to the same place anyway," he points out. He also once ate grasshoppers.

But I let my large intestine sort it out. That's what it's for. I don't check in with my digestive system to see what it's up to. I trust it. So I'm just going to fling dinner down to it one food item at a time. Mixin's for cocktails.

chicken and dreams at: mbe@drinktothelasses.com


The Young Tortilla-Based Hostess

When I was scrounging about college in sweatpants, I saw a picture of Jacqueline Kennedy lighting a candle at the dinner table. The caption read, "The young hostess prepares to entertain her guests." And I thought, "Isn't that a lovely bit of life! She has guests!"

Now I have guests, too, and they eat Skyline chili dip and little squares of cheese. Just like Jackie's!

And cupcakes featuring bored-looking plastic horses. Also just like Jackie!

green sugar at: mbe@drinktothelasses.com

Angry Cookies

Never mind. It's an angry day today. I spent it cleaning and then making cookie bars, which, when cut into, were all scary on the inside. So I'm not going to take it out on you. I'll just continue to take it out on every...drawer...in...the...freaking...KITCHEN.

slam at: mbe@drinktothelasses.com