Some people might call me lazy, but I prefer to think of myself as “inventive.” For example, I absolutely hate making multiple trips up and down the stairs in my house, so I’ve taken to keeping a huge pitcher of water next to my bed—to refill the Keurig, which is also next to my bed. That way, I only have to think about it once every five days or so. See? I’m a genius. And it doesn’t end there: [Read more...]
Given my history with men, I always knew it was inevitable that my dating bliss with The Boyfran would have to come to an end. There was no way all that woodland-creature-infused sexy talk was going to keep the relationship going forever. Though I’ll admit—I didn’t see this coming.
We actually spent the last few days together, enjoying the change from one season to the next. But I could tell something was wrong. We were walking along the edge of a riverbank, admiring the golden aspens that set the mountainsides on fire. I decided to just ask him about it. [Read more...]
It’s September, which makes me want to listen to Bob Dylan and buy sweaters. The air outside is begging for me to put on a cloak and go off in search of adventure with a party of elves, dwarfs, and Dunedain. Because obviously I am a hobbit in this particular metaphor.
I don’t know what it is about this month, but it’s pure magic. I’m going to do my best to not talk about Pumpkin Spice Lattes but to keep the focus on my habit of worrying over whether I’ve accomplished anything with my life. I’ve always been a goal setter, a list maker, and a dreamer. If you were to dig through my journals (God help you) you’d find page after page of lofty plans and well-intentioned new beginnings. [Read more...]
In the wake of my breakup with the Psycho Ex, I moved to an apartment building that added 20 minutes to my morning commute. The extra distance was worth it, as I was determined to keep out of his way and keep the drama at a minimum. The first couple months were relatively quiet. All my neighbors seemed to have a common goal of reclusiveness, until one afternoon when I spotted a young guy walking a puppy with a bright pink leash. Two thoughts immediately went through my mind: [Read more...]
I was cruising into work the other morning, my customary 3 minutes late, when a 90s one-hit-wonder came on the radio. I parked my car in my usual spot, reached for the keys, but was completely blown away by the lyrics. It was like I’d never actually listened to the words, and I just couldn’t stop. [Read more...]
When I was in middle school, I rode Bus #9 every day. We lived “out in the country” which means my family had land just beyond the city that we paid other people to mow for us. A school bus seemed exciting and Disney-like, but it was really just an introduction to my current life of drugs and mental illness.
Our bus driver was Jake/Jack– a man who alternated between these two names, depending on whether he was in a good mood or a bad mood. [Read more...]
By now I’m sure you’ve all heard about the nude photos of female celebrities, like Jennifer Lawrence, that were leaked after a hacker posted them to numerous websites run by soulless bastards. First off– I was not that hacker, this is not a confession. I actually chose JLaw to play me in the movie version of my life whilst The Boyfran and I were having brunch on Sunday. It seemed like an obvious choice:
“She’s funny but really good at being angry and depressed.”
“Yeah,” The Boyfran added, “and she’s super awkward.” [Read more...]
I’m writing this post on Wednesday, knowing I will post it on Thursday while I am under the influence of narcotics. Don’t worry, it’s all quite legal. I’m having a minor medical thing done and honestly, I’m looking forward to being able to lay in bed and watch Orange Is The New Black all day. I’ve resisted Season 2 thus far because I’m addicted to being productive, even though I loosely define this to include things like spending 4 hours creating a 90s playlist or half a day perfecting my New Zealander accent. [Read more...]
I think it’s time to blame the majority of my problems on the voodoo of self-fulfilling prophecies. For example, last week’s paranoia gave way to a flood of dark omens. On Monday I was run off the road by a car that veered into my lane just as I removed my seatbelt. I had to divert myself out of the street and into a shrubbery. Later that day I discovered the back end of a bunny hanging from the front of The Goat Man’s cherry red Volkswagen Beetle. He’d somehow managed to hit it straight on and wedge the front half of its body into his grill, leaving it dangling like a vile hood trophy. [Read more...]
Last Tuesday I decided to skip the gym, buy a bottle of wine, and order pizza. When The Boyfran showed up to change into workout clothes, I greeted him with a glass of vino. We proceeded to get mildly tipsy by 7PM, at which point he randomly suggested I check my “Other” inbox on Facebook. I expected to find some equivalent of my previous goat-citing offer of marriage but was greeted with a message from a woman asking whether I’d filed a restraining order a couple years ago. [Read more...]
It took a while for me to let The Boyfran know where I live. When he finally made it through the door, he had one primary observation—it wasn’t the lack of a TV, hundreds of books, or my environmental abuses.
“Wow,” he said, “you have a lot of weapons.”
My house is laced with tools of aggression. One might argue that anything is a weapon if you hold it right, but I like to be very literal in these situations. [Read more...]
To engage in friendship is to open yourself up to the harshest form of judgment. My good friend Sars frequently harangues me for leading you to believe she is uptight and “normal.” She’s resented that label since we first met as college roommates and I mocked her for having baby blue walls and oak furniture. To make her normalness even more shocking, she managed her money, slept at night, and had a social life that didn’t involve month-long periods of locking herself away and ignoring everyone. [Read more...]
Something interesting happened last week as I was leaving church. (Yes, I go to church– I have the Snapchats to prove it.) I’d just completed my weekly tradition of bursting out their ornate doors and pretending to be Aragorn in that LOTR scene where you find out he’s not dead. I was high on the triumph of my slow motion moves as our hipster pastor walked up with a smile. I reached out to shake his hand, my mind already dreaming of the brunch we were about to enjoy, when he opened his mouth and spoke. [Read more...]
Most of the coworkers I tell you about are worthy of this question. To a certain extent, I probably am too—but if they’re okay with a psychiatrist who can’t speak English and a Nursing Director who’s plotting to kill everyone, then I’m sure I’ll be alright. Let’s not forget we continued to pay someone when he didn’t even bother showing up for 6 months. However, let me reassure you with a few employees we’ve actually managed to fire in the last year. [Read more...]
If you’re anything like me, you require a constant onslaught of shite before you’re willing to end a bad relationship. Obviously I am an expert in this, because who could ever forget Psycho Ex (You can see his naked photo HERE). It usually takes about five back-to-back WTF Moments for me to finally get around to dumping a guy. With The Man-Child, I actually managed to pack all of these into one night. [Read more...]