Liz Biznass
An open letter to some of our most…ardent…readers
We’ve learned, with the help of our analytics consultant, that a not insubstantial portion of our website visitors find us with the search term “Liz Biznass.” This was initially a head-scratcher: yes, we have a writer named Liz, and a category named Biznass (because we’re Millenials raised on Ludacris and we can’t help it)—but who/what/where is Liz Biznass?? “It’s exactly what it sounds like,” our consultant responded. Ah. In that case, here’s a message for the men (or women!) who might be scratching their own heads after touching down here instead of finding what they were actually searching for.
Hello sir. Yes, you—the man who typed “Liz Biznass” into the search bar and landed here. Welcome! You were looking for insightful commentary on motherhood, were you not? …..oh. I see. Well, wait, don’t leave so soon! I’m sure I can find something that would…excite you. Let’s see.
Oh, I know! I just put a pair of leggings in the giveaway pile because the knees were worn out. That’s right. I’ve been on my knees….waddling around after toddlers.
And! Sometimes, when my family is gone and the house is empty, I….clean out my closet. (Not a metaphor.) It’s absolutely exhilarating.
What else, what else. I’ve got a stack of dollar bills by my bed. (It’s for my kids’ allowance.) Is that anything?
I guess what I’m trying to say is that none of this is for you. Sure, there was a time when I would contort myself and my personality into shapes that would be pleasing to the men around me. Liz Biznass probably understands. I’m sure she makes a very good living! I don’t judge her for any of it. But my biznass, personally? Is closed.
Sure, every now and then I’ll blow……dry my hair and put on a nice dress. I’ll do my makeup and put on dangly earrings and shove my feet into shoes that aren’t sneakers. That’s not for you, the nebulous men of the internet and your male gaze, always searching for more biznass to jolt your dull synapses. That’s for me, so I can feel like a smooth polished stone instead of a pebble stuck in my kid’s shoe.
So carry on, sir. Or don’t—click around a bit, and maybe something here will catch your eye. Maybe you’d like to feel closer to those MILFs on your screen. Maybe you’ve wondered what’s going on behind Liz Biznass’s eyes as she goes about her biznass. Maybe I’m just trying to capitalize on a frequently used search term. Maybe we can both get something out of this.
