Grammargirl's Page

I am officially a bad blogger. I feel like one of those women who drop their friends the moment they get a new boyfriend. But in this case, my "new boyfriend" is actually my new job. In late February, I started working for the Greater Springfield Habitat for Humanity, and am loving every minute of it! But it has come to rule my life in ways I never dreamed possible. I've become one of those annoying people who, when asked how I'm doing, invariably mutter "busy" without pausing to really acknowl… Continue

To think that we complain about housing costs here in the Northeast! It’s hard to believe that, in some areas of the country, people making $125,000 a year qualify for subsidized housing. Remember when $100,000 was a lot of money? Now, it’s barely enough to keep you in the so-called middle class. Check out the article below (from cnn.com) that talks about home prices in certain western “resort towns,” where the median home price has skyrocketed to more than $5 million. Ouch! Resort towns subsid… Continue

With the Oscars back on track for this weekend, I thought now might be an appropriate time to recognize those films that did not make the cut. I am talking about the Razzies, of course. The Golden Raspberry Awards showed no mercy to Lindsey Lohan, bestowing three of its "worst" nominations to the troubled star whose escapades in 2007 made even Robert Downey Jr. cringe. Lohan, whose 2007 was marred by rehab stints and arrests, as well as a string of box-office bombs, was dinged for her thriller… Continue

It’s Valentine’s Day once again - that commercially-driven holiday tailored to make people feel bad about themselves and their relationships (or lack thereof). While I am happily married, that doesn’t mean I look forward to “the most romantic day of the year.” See, we both work full-time. And have a three-year-old. And can’t see spending our hard-earned money on chocolates (that neither of us need) or overpriced flowers (that die within days). Today, a co-worker told me that single roses are go… Continue

I walked into work this morning with a huge chip on my shoulder. I didn’t want to be here, and I was feeling a boatload of “mommy guilt.” My three-year-old daughter, who normally loves pre-school/daycare, freaked out and wouldn’t let go of me this morning. I had to peel her off of me while she screamed bloody murder, and then reluctantly hand her over to her teacher.…

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