There’s snow on the ground, which I find unspeakably oppressive. Winter is terrible—I know it has something to do with bugs dying or Greek myths about kidnapping women, but I’ve had enough. My only comfort is getting to watch everyone freak out about the impending snowpocalypse as they fight to the death over the last loaf of gluten-free quinoa buns. Speaking of fighting to the death, there are a few things on the horizon that warm me with hope: [Read more…]
When I first moved back to America, I watched a shite-ton of Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix. Shleisel had just had her baby and I was on infant night shift, so it seemed like a reasonable use of my time. Lest you accuse me of wasting opportunity, I promise the show engaged my intellect—especially when I spent an entire evening creating an elaborate chart to document which characters had slept with each other. I’d share it here but I’m like 4 seasons behind now, and no one likes old data. [Read more…]
I know I’m (supposedly) planning a wedding right now, but for the most part, I’m not a huge fan. I tend to declare that I won’t attend a wedding unless I’m in it. This usually keeps me relatively uninvolved, but this year both Sars and Shleisel got married. Both of them tied the knot in remote countryside locations, which involved lots of driving and an almost certainty that I’d never actually make it there alive.
I was about 15 minutes into my 45-minute drive to Sars’ wedding location when my phone rang. It was Peeves. [Read more…]
I tried to pull my blog up at a Verizon store but it refused– saying my site was not allowed based on “restrictions”. Restrictions? What does that mean. Restrictions on greatness? No, likely not. It’s probably because I talk about naked selfies, Bedroom Talk, that guy who wanted to rip my pantyhose, and things that don’t belong in my vagina.
With nothing better to do with my time, I decided to be mildly outraged.
“What is this, communist China?” [Read more…]
Despite being what everyone assumes is a free spirit, I have as hard a time as anyone when it comes to moving on and getting over the past. Even though my Mom bought me therapy for my birthday a few years ago, I’ve yet to cash it in– which means I’m left with all sorts of unresolved psychosis. I can’t quite figure myself out—sometimes I seem happy to close the door and move forward, embracing the strangeness of the future. Other times I’ll rip off my emotional fingernails, clinging to a bad time I’m just not quite ready to get over. [Read more…]
Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But I did get in a car accident and it was definitely in Hi-Def slow-mo. More and more I’m beginning to believe in The Secret—that whatever you put out into the universe comes back to bite you in the arse like a table-turning biatch. Because as I pulled out of work that afternoon, I had no intention of going back the next day. I was going to play hooky and go Christmas shopping. I’d just sent The Feyonce a voice message, saying we should bail on the gym and eat lamb curry instead.
And then, I looked up and everything went all movie-like. There was a car barreling towards me from a side street. [Read more…]
I’m not sure I’ve ever received so many threats of death or bodily harm as I did in the comments of my last post– just because I strung you along without revealing who Gooseberry is. I also got a phone call from Sars, who had a dozen questions over why I hadn’t included all sorts of things, like:
1. The dead animals- these were left in the locked back yard, and in my closet.
2. I actually moved three times- There was one other apartment where I lived, but it also got broken into with more stuff being stolen. [Read more…]
This blog is built on the premise that “some mistakes are too good not to share,” but I’d be lying if I denied that I’d happily allow someone else to accept the blame for my litany of poor choices. In fact—I was having an enlightened conversation about television shows with Gunmetal Geisha a while back and [Read more…]
It became quite clear there was nothing I could do to protect myself from my stalker, AKA Gooseberry. I’d moved, gotten an alarm, installed flood lights, and changed the locks three times. It didn’t matter. All he’d done was use these things against me. I felt incredibly powerless– like no matter what I did or where I went, he’d never leave me alone. The only option was to change the game. If he wanted to stake me out, learn my patterns, and hit me when I least expected it, the least I could do was make it frustrating for him. [Read more…]
Obviously I blog about a lot of people that are in my daily life—like my coworker Mandi (who knows about the blog) and The Goat Man (who most certainly does not), as well as a whole slew of whacked out psych ward employees. But then there are those that I blog about whilst under the impression that I’ll never see them again, or that—at the very least—the contact will be distant and minimal. But no. Because the universe is an asshole. [Read more…]
One of my favorite things ever is when someone in my life gives express permission for me to blog about them. Just last week I got a text from my coworker Mandi.
“Come to my office NOW. I have something for you to blog about.”
Half an hour before this she’d been on an epic tampon-hunt that had taken both of us to the bottoms of our purses and the backs of our glove boxes. The lack of tampon is a huge problem in this building, because there are only three of us females who are still menstruating. [Read more…]
After my last post about the stalker—AKA Gooseberry— a lot of you asked whether I’d ever called the police. The answer is yes– I’d called them three times since everything began. One week later, I called them again.
It was Tuesday evening and Sars was in class. Technically, I was also in that class but college rendered me gloriously truant. We hadn’t changed the locks since the week before, because we’d already done so twice. It felt useless. Instead, we just pushed furniture in front of our doors when we slept at night, and talked in whispers because it seemed like he was always listening. [Read more…]
I bought a wedding dress a few weeks ago. I can’t post it on here, of course, because every so often The Feyonce likes to secretly stalk the blog and search for his name—just to see what sorts of secrets and private moments I’m sharing. I think it’s bad luck for him to see it beforehand, and lord knows I don’t need any more bad luck.
But there’s plenty more to talk about, because believe me– the dress itself was hardly the most interesting part of the day. In fact, I learned quite a few things whilst subjecting myself to the torments of wedding dress shopping. [Read more…]
If I’ve learned anything about this ridiculous life I’m living, it’s that you can take power away from something by laughing at it. Unfortunately, that doesn’t make it any less dangerous. When a stranger broke into my home and stole my most private possessions, I left a snarky note in response. But that didn’t stop him. Instead, he followed me to my new house and christened it with rotten meat before knocking out the power. The more things happened, the more difficult it became to laugh about the fact there was someone out there who was watching closely enough to torment me on a flexible schedule. [Read more…]