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People are loving this Irish language short film based on 'Mean Girls'

Cailíní Gránna celebrates the vibrancy of the Irish language in such a fun way.

Mumbro Top/Youtube

Never knew we needed this version.

The enduring appeal, relatable themes, and oh-so quotable lines of Mean Girls has not only made it a pop culture mainstay, but the inspiration for countless recreations—from musicals, to movie musicals (still pretty baffled by that) to hilarious skits. Still, even the most avid Internet consumer has probably never seen a Mean Girls parody quite like this one.

In honor of the iconic film’s upcoming 21st anniversary, as well as Seachtain na Gaeilge, the largest annual celebration of Ireland’s native language and culture, a drama company called Mumbro Top released a 10 minute short version of the movie, spoken entirely in Gaelic.

mean girls, film, 2004, classic, actresses, comedy, dramaIconic.media3.giphy.com

Cailíní Gránna (Mean Girls in Irish) certainly achieves both those goals—paying tribute to Tina Fey’s sharp and witty comedy, while championing the Irish language. You especially see this in some of the added fresh touches, like incorporating St. Brigid’s Day, having the Plastics wear green Irish garb instead of Santa suits for the talent show, and (my personal favorite) swapping Gretchen Weiner’s infamous “fetch” for “coolah boolah.”

Even the end credits play out over a lovely Irish cover to Chappell Roan’s hit ‘Hot to Go!!’ (aka Mhac Go Deo).

Watch:

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

Since its release, Cailíní Gránna has been met with glowing praise by viewers, many of whom gained a newfound appreciation for Gaelic because of it.

“Well... I'll never forget the irish word for ‘to die.’"

“I do not speak a hint of Irish and I'm not even from a place at all related to the country, nevertheless I watched all of this and it was great!!”

“help ‘an queercail cómhra’ is too good i'm definitely stealing that.”

“I don't speak a lick of gailge but this was so fun to watch & super well-made… I love how well you adapted gags from the original movie into an Irish context!!”

Gaelic (or Gaeilge) is one of the oldest and most historical languages in the world, dating back to as early as the 4th century. However, it was heavily suppressed during the English colonization of Ireland in the 1600s. In the 1800s and 1900s, there was a big revival movement, resulting in the establishment of Irish language schools, as well the creation of new literature, poetry and theatre trí Ghaeilge (through Irish).

Seachtain na Gaeilgem which translates to "Irish Language Week" was part of this movement. Back when it first began in 1902, it was indeed just a single week and limited to Ireland. However, over time it became a global event that couldn’t really be contained to a mere seven days, so festival organizers decided to extend the ‘seachtain’ to 17 days, but kept the original name due to its worldwide recognition.

Nowadays, Seachtain na Gaeilge (or ‘SnaG’, as it’s also known) is a truly global event, beginning on 1 March (St. David's Day) and running until St Patrick's Day on 17 March each year, with community-organized events including traditional céilís, concerts, quizzes, competitions, parades, history tours, lectures, and poetry nights intended to encourage the use of Gaelic.

Besides Cailíní Gránna, there have been a few recent pop culture moments that have also thrown Gaeling into the spotlight. Back 2023, two Irish-centric films, The Banshees of Inisherin and An Cailín Ciúin (The Quiet Girl) received Oscar noms. That same year, Paul Mescal received a bualadh bos (round of applause) for using his cúpla focal (few words) of Irish in an interview on the red carpet.

@dublinsfm104 “Go out there and use your cúpla focail.” ☘️ Paul Mescal talk about speaking Irish 😍 #paulmescal #dublin #diff #fyp #irish #ireland #normalpeople #aftersun #godcreatures #irishfilm ♬ original sound - dublinsfm104

Point being, all these efforts to keep the mother tongue alive seem to be working, and that’s so coolah boolah.

via Pexels

An office worker can't handle his coworkers' gossip.

When someone says “get a life,” it’s usually a pejorative comment telling someone that they need to become more successful or build something for themselves. But in some circumstances, it’s a totally warranted reminder that someone needs to get their nose out of other people’s business and focus on themselves for a change.

A viral thread on Reddit that received over 14,000 responses asked the online community, “What Screams ‘I Have No Life’?” and it was a rebuke of the people whose pettiness makes our lives unbearable.

Hopefully, a few people read the thread and decided to make some changes in their lives.


One of the major targets in the thread are the annoying coworkers who love to gossip and talk smack about fellow office mates behind their backs. There are few things worse than going out to lunch with coworkers and the only conversation they have is about the people who aren’t there.

As the old saying goes, small minds talk about people, medium minds talk about events and big minds talk about ideas.

The thread also calls out those who feel the need to air all of their dirty laundry on social media to get attention. It also mentions those who waste their time picking fights with total strangers, or worse, people they know on Facebook.

Finally, another group that got a lot of attention is those who are super judgmental, whether that means having a problem with other people’s hobbies or being overly invested in how they live their lives. If they’re not hurting anyone, why is it your concern?

The thread was an excellent reminder for us to be aware of the people in our lives who cause drama by acting like mean girls long after their high school expiration date.

Here are 21 of the best responses to “What Screams ‘I Have No Life’?”

1.

"Only ever talking badly about other people. Had some coworkers like this once and being around them 8 hours a day was f**king DRAINING." — SomeOtherThirdThing

Ruralist added:

"My coworkers are like this. The gossip begins even before they've clocked in. I've stopped talking to them about anything except what's necessary for work."

2.

"The guy in my office who monitors how long everyone has been away from their computer." — No-Review-2307

3.

"Calling cops on kids with a lemonade stand." — SuvenPan

4.

"Posting everything about your personal business and drama on social media." — UseYona

Sohcgt96 added:

"You know what is just the f**king worst? Vague, dramatic posts that clearly exist to bait people to ask what's wrong or what you're talking about."


​5.

"As a parent with kids in school, definitely the Facebook Moms group." — Mean_Manufacturer_61

R0ttenbeauty added:

"Those Facebook mom groups are the worst! Nothing but drama and bashing on one another. Well, at least the one I used to be in."

6.

"Being a 'mean girl' ever but especially past high school." — bxbykayxxx

7.

"People who spend their days arguing with strangers on Facebook." — This-Wafer-841

8.

"Spending almost every day bugging and harassing others for choices they made that's not hurting them or anyone else, like damn, do they not have places to be elsewhere?" — ThanosWifeAkima-4848

9.

"Being way too invested into the life of reality TV stars." — oaracanthurusdory

Kwebber added:

"I'd also throw in Youtuber/streamer influencer in general to this as well."

10.

"Tracking someone on their phone, real story, my husband was sick one day and both his sister and mom started tracking his phone, started texting early Monday morning wondering why he was still at home." — LivntheDream430

ExCoCThrowaway added:

"My husband's family added me to their Apple family when we got married. Until about a month ago I had no idea they were using it to track me. I turned it off when I realized it and got a call from my sister-in-law asking me why I turned it off. Turns out they were calling my husband and telling him my every move. He didn’t care and told them it was my business but no one ever told me. Had to figure it out on my own. Sometimes I hate technology."

11.

"Making fun of other people's hobbies." — CLbandit38

12.

"Y'know I want to talk about the exact opposite of this: What screams 'I'm living life the way it's intended to'?

Well, I have a buddy who I think is a pretty great person. He never gets into any drama, always does what he has to do on time, and plays the games he enjoys in his spare time. Life throws shit at him sometimes, but he just deals with it and continues to just do whatever he does like nothing happened.

He just lives life, and as a result, he is able to extract a good amount of happiness from it. He says he is just happy. He has defined himself as a simple man, and I think that's how life should be lived. Like, just live your life, dude. For him, is just that simple." — GLnoG

13.

"All you talk about is your job." — Antique_Sense_7383

14.

"Working tons of hours and bragging about it. People at my job do this and it's pathetic." — spectreenjoyer

15.

"Your whole identity is your beard." — ReasonTraditional882

16.

"Being involved with a homeowners association." — chhrispybobispy

17.

"Talking and thinking about the gym 24/7." — AshamedRadish153

18.

"Having a loud vehicle. No one is impressed." — The-Plot-Twist13

19.

"You have literally nothing to talk about outside of your children or being a parent." — Oneofyrfencegrls

Notforthisworld0101 responded:

"It's possible to have a personality outside of being a parent."

Author and researcher Rosalind Wiseman calls herself a listener. Intimate conversations and interviews with hundreds of teen girls formed the basis for her hit book, "Queen Bees and Wannabes,"about how to help teen girls survive the wild world of high school. The book, which was eventually turned into the blockbuster movie "Mean Girls," was lauded for its frighteningly accurate depiction of female bullying.

[rebelmouse-image 19530238 dam="1" original_size="408x230" caption="GIF from "Mean Girls."" expand=1]GIF from "Mean Girls."


By bringing an open mind to her research (she says she simply takes what young people say and translates it for adults), she exposed some important truths about the inner workings of "girl world" to parents everywhere. Since the success of "Queen Bees" and "Mean Girls," however, Wiseman has been doing work that she argues is even more exciting and important, and that's gotten far less attention: trying to understand adolescent and teenage boys.

It's work that's especially important as conversations around toxic masculinity and sexual harassment have become increasingly mainstream.

Wiseman says there are four key things she's learned in her conversations with hundreds of our country's future men about how we can better shape the next generation.

1. Listen to what young boys have to say.

It seems ironic, Wiseman says, to shout: "Hey, men need to have their voices heard!"After all, men's voices are heard almost everywhere. They quite literally get most of the speaking lines in movies (even movies about women), they hold over 80% of the seats in Congress, and in the business world, about 95% of CEO positions are filled by men. In the case of younger men, however, listening to what they have to say just might be the right thing to do.

"We think they talk a lot and take up a lot of space, but we don't often ask about their opinions," Wiseman explains. If we want to really make changes to the culture of masculinity as it pertains to boys, there's really no better way to make sure we're at least getting an accurate picture of how they see the world around them.

For her 2013 book, "Masterminds and Wingmen" (sort of the boy version of "Mean Girls"), Wiseman spoke in-depth with nearly 200 teenage boys. Contrary to expectations, Wiseman says she found many were more than eager for a chance to finally share their fears and insecurities.

There are plenty of problems with the way boys in our country are raised and problems with how we've defined what it means to "be a man." But figuring out how to fix things shouldn't be an adults-only conversation.

As Wiseman says: "It's absurd to me to tell boys what their lives are like without talking to them first."

2. Don't wait to have important conversations about what they should do if they see abuse happening around them.

[rebelmouse-image 19530239 dam="1" original_size="1200x634" caption="Photo by Dariusz Sankowski/Pixabay." expand=1]Photo by Dariusz Sankowski/Pixabay.

"There is a minority of boys and men that, for whatever reason, feel they have a right to abuse people," Wiseman explains. "Through a combination of social intelligence and privilege, they know the majority of boys and young men who don't like what they're doing are going to be silent."

Many parents refuse to even consider that their own son will eventually be faced with a challenging situation — hearing his buddies trading vulgar, sexist jokes, or seeing a teacher have inappropriate contact with a student. They certainly don't think he'd have no idea what to do or that he might be a perpetrator himself.

The majority of teens will witness some kind of abuse of power at some point, Wiseman says. We shouldn't wait until after the fact to let them know we expect them to stand up for what's right, even if it's hard.

"We have to look at them as partners in this," she says. "Tell them 'I just want you to be able to know where I stand and where my expectations are for you.'"

3. Now for the hard part  — parents and adults have to model upstanding behavior for boys to see.

Talking the talk is easy. But walking the walk is what truly matters.

Parents frequently reach out to Wiseman with the same problem: "What if I go to [holiday] dinner and Uncle Bob says some racist, homophobic comment?"

Let's face it: a lot of us freeze up, change the subject, or otherwise don't want to deal with a potential confrontation, so we laugh it off or brush it under the rug. (Billy Bush, anyone?) Then we're shocked when boys do the same thing around friends making racist or sexist or homophobic comments.

It's OK that we're not perfect parents or role models 100% of the time, but it's important to acknowledge those missteps to the boys who look up to us when they happen. Standing up for what's right in the moment is the right thing to do, but it sure can be easier to wait until the car ride home to tell your kids, "Hey, you know, what Uncle Bob said wasn't OK."

Don't let yourself off the hook though, Wiseman urges. When you tell your kid that what Uncle Bob did was wrong, own up to your own passiveness as well. Even a simple, "I didn't handle that the way I should have," can be enough.

"Just having that conversation makes it so much more likely that your son will come to you the next time he's in a tough situation," Wiseman advises.

4. Encourage them to expect better of themselves.

[rebelmouse-image 19530240 dam="1" original_size="4218x3290" caption="Photo by NatureAddict/Pixabay." expand=1]Photo by NatureAddict/Pixabay.

Wiseman says one of the inherent and tragic flaws in the way America has defined masculinity is that caring about, well, pretty much anything makes you weak. And if you're weak, you're not really a man.

Caring about something like feminism? Sexual harassment? Social justice? It can make a man an utter outcast in some social circles.

"That is a travesty," Wiseman laments. "I say to high school boys all the time … 'a man of honor is someone who shuts their mouth when horrible things are going on around you? How did that become the definition of what a man is?'"

"I wouldn't put up with that if I were you," she tells them. "You're better than this; you're stronger than this."

In response, she sees them sit up a little taller and stand a little prouder. It's something they don't hear enough.

13 years later, people are still talking about "Mean Girls" and what it says about how our society treats girls. Let's hope Wiseman's work on "boy world" has the same kind of effect.

Young men aren't always going to do the right thing. They'll fold under the pressure of having to stand up to their best friend. They'll laugh at an offensive joke. They'll make mistakes.

And so will we, as teachers, parents, and role models.

"We have to acknowledge that we suck," Wiseman concludes.

"We have to say to boys, 'Hey, I get that I'm holding you to a high standard. I understand that you don't have a lot of good role models.' It doesn't mean we're going to give up."

I remember walking into the cafeteria of my new school and it was like someone punched me in the stomach.

I was in sixth grade. My family had just moved from Virginia to Ohio. At first, I attended the local Catholic school. Within the first two months, I was begging my parents to go to the public school because the girls were so mean.

And when I look back, wow, they were cruel. My maiden name is Ackerman. They’d call me “Lisa Acneman,” as sixth grade brought with it oily skin and some breakouts. When my parents decided that I would change schools, I felt relieved.


I won’t even tell you about the last day at school there when all the girls knew I was leaving.

Off to public school I went. But soon I was to find out that it didn’t matter whether I went to parochial or public school.

Instantly a group of girls took me in. They invited me to sit at their lunch table.

All photos by iStock.

Little did I know that they had kicked another girl off the table so I could sit with them. I was so grateful to have friends. I was a bit naïve. Maybe that’s because I grew up in a home where we were all out for each other and my assumption going “out into the world” was that everyone was like that too.

Then one day, I walked into the cafeteria. I nearly dropped my brown paper lunch bag. I looked at the table where I had been sitting for the last week. My first week at school. I counted the number of girls at the table — eight. Eight was the maximum number of people who could sit at one table. The two girls who were the “leaders” looked at me, whispered to the other girls at the table, and everyone turned around to laugh at me.

My heart sank. I actually went up to the table and feebly asked, “Is there space for me here?” Hoping maybe I was wrong, that it wasn’t as it seemed. I couldn’t feel my feet beneath me. I felt dizzy. I swear my heart was going to jump out of my chest.

"My ears were ringing, my hands were clammy, my heart was beating so fast."

I can’t remember what they said, but I must have gotten the picture because I turned and I quickly looked around for a place to sit. It was a small cafeteria and soon someone would notice me. I didn’t want anyone to look at me. My ears were ringing, my hands were clammy, my heart was beating so fast.

I felt the eight girls’ snickering whispers like daggers in my back. There was no “physical fight” or blow up so the teachers on lunch duty were none the wiser. I saw a table with no one at it. So I sat down. I wanted to cry. But I didn’t.

This is where I sat for two months. Alone. By myself.

Once, a male teacher came up to me — after whispering to another teacher — with a sympathetic, pleading look on his face and asked me something I can’t remember now. But I didn’t see him as a resource.

I know that eventually I sat somewhere with some group.

For the next two years that we lived in Ohio, I had some good experiences. I still have a friend from there who is one of my best friends.

But the two girls continued to be bullies. Yes, that’s what I can call it now as I understand as a psychotherapist and adult what was really going on. They were the kind of “friends” who would invite you over and you’d feel like “Oh good! We are friends again!” Only to have them talk about you or put you down.

We have all had experiences like this, where other girls have been mean to us.

Just the other day, another mom friend of mine told me that she waved to two moms talking and they looked at her and laughed. It happens in childhood. It can happen between adult women.

As a psychotherapist, I intimately know that when someone hurts others, it’s because they are hurting. I have counseled both the bully and the one being bullied.

I know, too, from counseling parents how, when our children’s lives eclipse our own, we remember (consciously or unconsciously in our body’s cellular memory) our own experiences of hurt, rejection, and betrayal. And those old experiences, though healed, come back up and make us tender.

I had an opportunity this last week to feel such tenderness. I’ll share that story in a moment.

But first, I want to share this — the trump.

What came out of my experiences with "mean girls"?

I can look back and see how I became an “includer.” I became someone who sees the outsider and looks to include people. I became someone who is good at bringing people in, making them feel a part of things.

I also became an “includer” with my own inner world of feelings and experiences. I learned through years and years of mindfulness and compassion practices how to create space to “include everything” and how to abide with whatever is arising. Even the nasty, hard-to-look-at, shameful parts. I practiced forgiveness. Those two bullies? I forgave them (they didn’t ask for my forgiveness). Other people who have hurt me? Other people I have hurt? I’m working on receiving forgiveness and extending forgiveness to others. Nothing excluded from forgiveness. Everything included.

I became an “includer” in my work — how I go about being a psychotherapist and coach with individuals and groups. I can hold space for someone to include it all, to hold the parts of them they might have abandoned, ignored, tried to keep quiet, kicked to the curb. I can abide with a client as they learn that excluding anything creates more suffering, and including facilitates healing and integration. True freedom.

I became an “includer” in my family. As parents, Brian and I are about modeling compassion and empathy to our children. We try to create “abiding space” for our children to mindfully name and express whatever is happening within them. On the good days, I can say, “I’ll abide with you. I’ll be with you in this.” And of course there are days when I am short and I snap at them. And then we begin again. We come back together and include even that in our human and imperfect way of being family.

And our family has become “includers.” We are about community and creating space for people — in our home, in our lives, in our hearts — for adults and children to feel loved and included just as they are.

Through gentleness, compassion, and mindful attention, these early experiences of rejection, betrayal, and hurt transformed me.

Through loving attention, through learning to include it all with mindfulness and compassion, I transformed these hurtful experiences and others into compassionate, inclusive arms to hold, words to speak, hands to give, and presence to offer.

And … they still make me tender. And that’s good, even holy. Because they open me to see the hurt in others and be tender with them.

It makes me really tender when it’s about my own daughter. It challenges, brings up and, offers an opportunity for deepening my practice of mindfulness and compassion... for opening my heart even wider.

Like this week, when my daughter came home from pre-K and told me yet again about an experience at school with another little girl.

“It starts early,” a friend said to me.And my heart breaks. My daughter is 4.

The details aren’t mine to share. But my heart was breaking. I talked with a few other moms. God, am I grateful to be alongside other moms who are “includers” — in our circle of moms and in the lives of our children. I talked with my husband. And, most importantly, I talked with my daughter. My dear, 4-year-old daughter.The details are my daughter’s to share someday.

When my daughter — your daughter — is looking back on her childhood, she will tell her own story and it’ll be one of how we walked alongside our girls.

How we empowered them.

I hope all our girls will someday share stories like:

My mom would listen to me as she stroked my hair, as she lingered with me and I shared what was happening and how I felt.”

My mom wouldn’t jump in and try to fix it. She wouldn’t freak out and panic out of her own fears and hurts and unconscious stuff she was holding. She would sit with me and ask me for my ideas and what I needed. She would wait and listen — listen to what’s said and unsaid, creating safe space for me to navigate the inner landscape of my own feelings and heart so that the right actions for me to take would arise from within me.”

My parents would advocate for and alongside me in situations that required adult intervention. They wouldn’t act out of fear or anger. They would wait and discern and pray and watch.”

My mom wasn’t about sweeping me up and saving me. She was about empowering me. She knew when to step in front of me and be the mama bear, protecting me. And she knew when to sit behind me or alongside me, abiding with me.”

I learned to say, “That's not OK!” and “Stop!” and “I am walking away now.”

I learned how to see clearly. I learned to not think there was something wrong with me. I learned to not turn on myself but rather have regard for myself.”

I learned to name with compassion what is happening, for myself and others. I learned to name it, state it, and own my response.”

I learned ways of working through difficulties with other girls and women in ways that honor and regard each girl and woman’s body, feelings, experiences, and needs.”

I learned to find my tribe of women. I learned to ask for help. I learned to be with others who uplift and honor each other.”

I learned to speak up. I learned to speak up for myself and for others in the face of injustice — on the playground, in the hallways between classes in middle school, or in international peace negotiations.”

I learned to be an includer. I learned to mindfully abide with whatever I am experiencing within my own inner landscape. And from such a place of inclusion, I learned to include and walk beside others.”

This is what I am modeling to my daughter. This is the space I am creating for my daughter. Not perfectly. But, my God, as best as I can. I know other moms who believe the same thing. I am blessed to be around other moms who want this for our community. They want this for our world. They want this for our daughters and their daughters.

I know you want to model this to your daughter too. You are this sacred space for your daughter. And I know you are doing it the best you can.

Because this is how we heal the "mean girls" culture: We hold, we include, we love, we empower, and we regard our girls.

And we model this in how we treat other women.

If you are a parent to a daughter, no matter the age, can you imagine your daughter telling such a story? Can you imagine creating the space for her to share, to abide with her, to empower her? Can you imagine raising "girls who include" instead of "mean girls"?

Can you imagine if we all model being an “includer” and resolving conflicts or hurts or insecurities with regard and compassion?

Can you imagine what this would do for our world if we raise daughters who know how to name what is happening within them and a situation, who know how to speak up in the face of injustice, who believe in their innate goodness, and who include rather than exclude because they have an inner confidence and have been raised to listen to the wisdom of their inner voice?

We have to imagine it and create it — for all of us women, for our daughters, and for our world.