I’ve become that weird single lady who uses a special pillow for her buttocks

I’ve become that weird single lady who uses a special pillow for her buttocks. As I sit here decluttering a corner of my house, I’ve had some important Saturday realizations. First off, I don’t know about you, but over the past two years, I’ve done more sitting than a Las Vegas poker player constipated from the hotel buffet.

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.

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 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…

Sundays Are For Suckers

Hey! This was a fun Sunday. My house got flooded, my car air conditioning went out in 112 degrees and I got broken up with, via email. There is a giant gaping hole in the middle of my living room floor and I’m beginning to think that the depths of Hell are calling me. I keep sending them to voicemail but the calls are becoming more and more frequent.

The $800 Donut

I had the optimism you only get when you’ve decided to give up everything to follow a dream and a suntan. I packed only the essentials: a suitcase of shoes, an electric piano and 3 days worth of trail mix. California here I come.

They’re All Gonna Laugh At You (Part II)

Not all traumatic events lead to financial gain. Some just make for another typical Tuesday.

Faceplant

Last night I fell in love with an imaginary gay man. For the second time.

But that’s not the most important part of the story. What is, is that in 107-degree weather, I peeled my sweat-soaked thighs off of my couch and rallied to look more like a fancy lady woman rather than a breathing flesh sweat pocket.

Eat Your Feelings

I just learned animals stress eat. I wonder, do they feel guilty the next day too?