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thanks, mr. jobs.

I want to go buy my dad an iPad. Thank you for this story.

ACURIOUSWORLD

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‘Thank you, Steve Jobs.’

God, I never thought I would say those words.

For decades, I have been both infuriated and seduced by the man; alternating between curious and angry, enamored and resentful. I idolized and villainized him. His products have both helped and hijacked my career and personal life – devouring my time, my attention and my bank account. For all of his grand invention, he was at the core just a ‘dealer’, feeding society’s ‘more, please, now’ addiction. By blurring technologies with toys, he hooked billions with a ‘shiny new, faster, more colorful’ lure.  

Ironically, he considered himself Buddhist but masterminded products that disconnect us from our minds instead of settling us deeper into them.

Like many, I grew tired of his rhetoric and bravado, his secrets and sweatshops. But when I watched the now famous 60 minutes interview where he rejected his birth father as a mere sperm bank – and vowed to never meet…

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Let them talk before they’re gone

Hannibal and Me: life lessons from history

In the winter of 2013, I attended the funeral of an aunt at an Alpine lake where she had spent much of her life and her final years. As the coffin was lowered into the frozen ground, I stood next to my godfather and whispered an idea to him.

Born in 1924, my godfather had been sent as a German pioneer to Italy to blow up roads and bridges as the Germans retreated and the Allies advanced, spending most of his time behind enemy tank lines, usually alone. He was captured by the British, spent several years in prisoner camps in Egypt and Libya, then returned emaciated to the bombed rubble of occupied Germany in 1948. He met another of my aunts (the sister of the one we buried in 2013), fell in love and wooed her. He married her in 1953, and thus entered my family, which at that time…

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#WhyIStayed

Stories From the Belly

Several months ago I wrote, “Stopping the Violence,” a blog post about a verbally abusive relationship I was in. He and I were together for nine months—longer, if you count the times we got back together. While nine months might not sound like a long period, the emotional injuries I sustained from those months with him were significant. It took me years to recover.

Yes, I stayed. Even after he punched a wooden fence one night in a jealous fit because I’d said hello to an ex-boyfriend. Yes, I stayed. Even after he swung his fist at me, stopping just before making contact with my face.

I definitely have had my issues, some of which I was working out with him. For a long time, I used to think that it was all my fault. If only I had been stronger or tougher, or perhaps less broken. Maybe I wouldn’t have…

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The Cycle

Teri Carter's Library

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When I was 16, my high school boyfriend backhanded me across the face, with a beer bottle in his hand.  We were in his baby blue car, on our way to his house, and his father was the first to look up from watching golf on TV and notice my newly forming bruise, the swelling next to my eye.  His father lost it.  My boyfriend cowered and slunk down to the basement; his dad, apologetic about his son, drove me home.

It was never mentioned again.

But we dated for another year.  Because, of course, I “loved” him, and I figured my sassy mouth provoked him. That’s what I was taught.

One of my biggest regrets is something I said to my mother right before she died.

She was in severe pain and respiratory distress, shaking and sweating, a good hour from her next painkiller.  She said, “I wish you…

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Move Over Fellas: Fantasy Football is No Longer a Boys’ Club

The Scoop Sports

Hey Guys! Newsflash: Fantasy Football isn’t just for you dudes anymore. In 2013, over 6 million females were among the legions playing fantasy football.

That’s right. Women were in YOUR fantasy football leagues, fellas, with team names like Victorious Secret, Brady’s Baby or Cleats and Cleavage. AND I bet some of you even got your asses handed to you by a woman or two. WHO knew? Have you recovered from it yet?

MVP Sports Channel

MVP Sports Channel

 

So, dudes, you may now be asking yourselves, “Is nothing sacred? Why can’t I just go to my draft party with the bros and not have to worry about some chick out-strategizing me by getting the stud RB I want? And for the love of all that is holy and sacred on a Sunday, two minutes before kickoff, why MUST my significant other be adding and dropping WRs and trolling for the…

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