I mean, what could it hurt for me to have an innocent conversation about one of the most controversial religions in modern history? If I could endure a lecture on Pastafarianism and Worshippers of the Flying Spaghetti Monster for a free plate of Bolognese, I could weather a few minutes of hearing about Xenu, The Dictator of the Galactic Confederacy. This guy was (most likely) handsome, and clearly eager to make new converts. I mean, converts. Wait, what I meant to say was, converts. Dammit, autocorrect, I mean, converts.
Friends. He was eager to make friends.
Read More I Would Do Anything For Love But I Won’t Do That
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.
Read More more than a turkey
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.
Read More Faceplant
There are two folk singers upstairs from me who are singing and using a tambourine and I want to punch them in the face. Does that make me a bad person? Probably. I kid. But I am finding that my ability to concentrate when there are extraneous noises going on around me, well it’s […]
Read More Friends Don’t Let Friends Play Tambourine
Two thousand seventeen is shaping up to be the summer of wearing lots of pink taffeta and elastic waistbands.
Read More Remember To Wear Comfortable Shoes