Camp Fun N’ Stuff

After driving in half an hour of traffic we arrived at what looked like an abandoned vet clinic and/or mineshaft. Two giant stone doors opened to reveal an enclosed cement “play area”. This would end up being the location of eighty percent of our camp activities. City camp, it turns out is really just like waiting in line at the DMV. Everyone around you is stuck being there, so you inevitably bond, but no one really wants to be there longer than they have to.

Wait, What Did You Call Me?

Taking a long hard swig of my insult wine, I promptly left the store looking like the Joker had just done my lipstick.Window shopping drunk is, it turns out, a real thing. And I was definitely now a member of that sad little club.

In Case Of Emergency

Like a sleep-deprived game show contestant on a timer, I thought buying a box of grape Kool-Aid seemed like a good idea. So did buying a two-pound bag of Twizzlers. The earthquake probably wouldn’t kill me, but diabetes might.

Looks Great, Smells Terrible

Fresh flowers scream, “I’m classy!” My apartment needs all the help it can get to offset the Spiderman posters mounted to my wall with Silly Putty. Even though they smell like hot garbage, they’re pretty and goddammit, I need this.

Birds In My Box

For the past thirty minutes, I have been sitting at an overrated hipster cafe in the heart of the trendiest and shabbiest part of Los Angeles trying to log on to a painfully slow wireless connection. I’m parked alone at a table on a secluded back patio covered in big, leafy trees gently rustling in the spring air. I feel both casually frustrated and aggressively serene. In the past half hour, an arbitrary internet thingie has captured my Facebook profile, my Instagram handle, my favorite type of donut and my shoe size. Now, this six-dollar cup of watered down chai tea that tastes more like mouthwash is probably going to cost me my identity and my Costco membership.

Win By Knockout

Last week I got cold-cocked by my freezer door. In that moment of blinding pain and disorientation, clutching my head, I remembered thinking, how mad I was at both my inability to duck oncoming vegetables, and how grateful I was for the sold ground beneath me, which soon came to be my best friend for the better part of half an hour.

Sweat Hog Part II

Now that I’ve beaten down the traffic gods and made my way to yoga class, I hurriedly gather my belongings like a nameless forest creature scurrying to avoid getting eaten by a bear.

Sweat Hog (Part 1)

I just got out of my yoga class. Damn, that was a lot of sweaty boobies. Hold on to your sandwich, there’s more…

Gimme All Your Presents

I guess there just aren’t that many things I crave these days. Perhaps I need to watch more commercials to be reminded of all the stuff I didn’t realize I needed so desperately.

more than a turkey

Today I am grateful for my thumbs. When language escapes me, my thumbs are there to pick up the slack. I am grateful for disposable contacts that allow me to see every day. Without them, I’d be left wandering around with my thumbs in the air.