As I’m dragging my hungover ass across the parking lot, I see the jerk who not only parked in my spot, but decided to leave her car there all weekend. She’s struggling with the warning sticker security slapped on her window. “You know,” I say despite my better judgment, “That’s my spot.” She turns to me, all open-mouthed, wide-eyed shock. “Wow,...
Hey ASSHOLE! This is an assigned parking spot. You’re lucky I’m too...– Note I left on some jerk’s car just now. And now I get to feel awful for the rest of the night for having been so rude. Karma’s a nasty bitch. We’re a lot alike that way.
Embarrassing airport stories
One time I left the gate area to meet a friend during a layover. We had a couple of drinks and I got pretty tipsy so I forgot I had a bottled water from the plane in my bag. When I tried to go back through security, the guard took me aside and asked if I knew about the 3oz rule. I was like, “sure, sure,” all the while trying very hard to act sober. Then he held up my bottled water...
derekhuff-deactivated20110504 asked: Lindsay told me she was going to get a picture of your boobs and send it to me. I never got it. #fail
Sometimes, when I say, “Please don’t judge me,” what I mean is, “I’m about to do something stupid because it looks fun, and I like fun, and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t call me out on it.” What I’m saying is, I look like a hooker in this Halloween costume.
Boss: So, how about if we talk tomorrow about how we’re going to make those mutants. Me: Can we talk Thursday instead? Boss: Sure. I don’t know how to make them, so all I’m going to tell you is to go ask someone else. And then we laughed and laughed…
I’m going to put you down as a post-doc on my grant for next year. ...– My boss. This was either the most offensive job offer I’ve ever received, or the most bad-ass putdown in the history of ever. Mad respect, bossman. Mad respect.
I missed Ken this weekend. I missed him terribly. But rather than fighting it, I just allowed myself to feel that sadness, and then I carried on. When I got home, I couldn’t stop touching him. His face, his arms, his hands… This is finite, because life is finite. Because nothing is forever. Knowing that used to terrify me, but I’m slowly learning to accept it. ...
Me: I know you’re still drunk because you’re thinking about peeing in the shower. Me: Nah, you would do that even if you were sober. Me: You’re an asshole. Me: Yes. Yes we are.
Me: What the hell? How did I get here? Lauren: I kinda carried you. Me: Oh Jesus. Lauren: Yeah. Me: What the hell!? I only had two drinks! Lauren: No. You had a lot more than two. Me: Oh Jesus. Lauren: Yeah. Me: Was I really bad? Lauren: No. You were very friendly. You were hugging trees on the way home. Me: Oh Jesus. Lauren: Yeah. Me: Did I do anything I should apologize for? Lauren:...
I didn't get carded
Which makes me nervous. It makes me very nervous. Inside, I feel like I’m eighteen. Outside, I get told over and over again that I look eighteen. So when I don’t get carded, well, I take it as a sign that things are moving, changing. That I’m getting older, and my time and travels are showing on my face. Everything about me is small. My body and features are small. My...
What I learned about myself today
I will fight two middle-aged, overweight, loud-mouthed men for my aisle seat. I am meek in many ways. But I will kick your ass if you try to take my aisle seat.
If you do what you've always done, you'll get what...
Last one left at work
I just undid my bra. I have no respect for science.
Colin Firth just used the word “carapace” in an interview. I swear to God, it’s like the man knows the secret language of my girly parts. Also, I promise to let go of my own personal carapace this weekend. I’m just kidding I don’t really have one. I just wanted to use the word “carapace” in a sentence. ROKCTOBER THIS WEEKEND!!
Last night I dreamt Colin Firth was feeding me spaghetti with his fingers, strand by sticky strand, and he didn’t even care that I was getting tomato sauce all over everything. That’ll do dream brain. That’ll do.
I’m flirty. It’s just how I interact. I’m so used to being this way that I’m always taken aback when someone takes offense. It’s just me being friendly. This is the only way I know to show you I like you. I tend to be oblivious to the fact that others can read a sexual undertone to my flirtatious behavior that I never intended, and then I feel awful for making...
He invited thirty people to his party. But only five showed up, and five people aren’t enough to fill a room. Five people aren’t enough to fill the silence. I lock the bathroom door and take a deep breath. His voice makes its way under the door, loud and abrasive. Edged with quiet panic. I look around and wonder what it’s like to be Caleb. Day after day. Hour after hour. Does...
On our way to a party
Just picked up the Taco Bell Taco Party Pack as our pot luck contribution. EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE US AT THEIR DINNER PARTIES!
bawling through the end of Dirty Dancing because Patrick Swayze is dead, and the guy from Law & Order is dead, and nobody puts baby in a corner, and you’re not a kid anymore, with braces and bubble gum, learning all the steps to that last dance with your friends in your parents’ living room. You don’t even know if you remember all the steps anymore. You’re pretty sure...
Things Ken said to me during tennis this morning
Did you just try to kick that ball? No, you don’t kick the ball in tennis. That’s what the racket is for. C’mere. Give me a kiss. That was very ballet. See, right now your grip on your racket is like your grip on reality. You have to really hold on. All right, I’m taking my shirt off so you learn to play through any distraction. Try not to stare. I said don’t stare.
Me: I think something bit me right in the belly button. Ken: Let me see. Me: <lifting up shirt> See? There’s a hole. Something took a bite out of me. Ken: I need to inspect more closely. <Kisses my belly button> Ken’s labmate: <Walks in. Is instantly traumatized.>