When I think of prejudiced people, I envision ignorant, ultra-conservative, hateful people out of touch with modern reality. But fat-shaming comes from all types of people — including educated, progressive, alternative folks that one wouldn’t tend to pigeonhole as discriminatory.   

Though we’re only about seven weeks into 2013, many of this year’s top stories (or, rather, the stories the media has made into “top stories”) share a common thread — often, people are not what they seem.
  

I did truly love the man I thought I was marrying. I don’t, however, think I would have married him if I were raised differently. What I mean is: I’m a Christian.
  

The other day, you called me just to talk, and it scared the shit out of me. You sat down, somewhere quiet and alone, gambling a little bit of your evening hoping I’d pick up and gamble a little bit of mine on you, too.
  

Jose Canseco owes my friend Jarrett an apology and an audiobook.  The former Major League Baseball player/steroid user/reality TV weirdo last March posted a series of tweets aimed at schooli  

It’s pretty widely accepted that creative types — the kind whose work is meant to disseminated — share a common trait: swollen, bulging egos that must constantly be nursed with attention, positive or otherwise. The writer writes, of course, because he likes the sound of his own voice. 
  

I remember riding to Corsi Tree Farm way out in Hamersville, Ohio, in those seats and stretching my short, stubby legs. Today, the ride to Corsi makes me claustrophobic. I can barely move; Dylan’s bony knees clank with mine. Damn Dad’s long-legged McCartney gene. Toys have been swapped out for smartphones, which keep us preoccupied on the long, coiling drive there.    

One of the main things that holds our society together is trusting one another. We, as humans, rely on other humans to follow established rules and do their “jobs,” whether it’s a surgeon, a pilot, a cop or a politician (go ahead, giggle).   

 Can women be funny? It’s a question so brain-numbingly idiotic that it’s best left ignored, but that’s difficult when multiple facets of the media — from pop culture bloggers to comedians on Twitter — recycle the “debate” over and over again.    

With tax hikes and spending cuts known as the “fiscal cliff” on the horizon and a Congress that has been unwilling to meet under the mistletoe to decide how they will rear the 2013 New Year’s Budget-Baby, it seems that we as citizens need to provide our elected officials an example of how to kiss and make up this holiday season.  

While living situations in our twenties are often characterized by constant human interaction, there comes a time when circumstance will send us diving head-first into a life living alone, which, at times, feels like a behind-the-scenes look into the life of Tom Hanks’ character in Castaway.
  

Despite the garbage that is thrown about in the run-up to Election Day, I love the American presidential race. It turns out that Norwegians are well-informed about the elections.
  

The evolution of the word “redneck” seems to be in flux. And until it stretches further into “offensive” territory, there are plenty of people willing to exploit the concept of the word. The barometer of exploitation is nowhere more evident than in the world of reality TV.   

A woman must be tempting, society tells us, but not too tempting. The balance is a fine one; crossing that “threshold” — whatever it is — has led to slut-shaming and women-bashing rape apologia in a way that renders trying to understand that balance completely futile.    

For as long as I can remember, I’ve wished I had been alive in a different era. The fantasy to experience my life in another time period ignited with my obsession with American Girl books, historical fiction “chapter books” about young women of different eras.