California girls, we’re undeniable

Last night I dropped off my CA friends at the airport after their Thanksgiving visit, and they extended an open invitation to come stay with them, or even live with them for a bit, whenever I want.

I suddenly have a million urges to get the hell out of here, if only for a week.

I already have an East Coast vacation booked in January, but my spring/summer wanderlust is looking westward.

Maybe Easter. I feel like going to town on a big fuck-off chocolate bunny while lying by a pool. (All the more reason to keep working out throughout winter, so I don’t scare small children with all this gelatinous White in a swimsuit.)

And they could probably get me a job if I eventually wanted to relocate permanently. I have exactly four skills, but they travel well.

Then again, maybe I won’t.

I’m doing that thing where you write a text but then delete it without sending it because you’re too cool. But then I write it again. And delete it again. Because I’m cool.

I’m not cool, you guys. I’m a goddamn spaz.

(Have we taken “spaz” off the politically correct table yet? I feel like we should, but Paulette called herself “spastic” in “Legally Blonde,” and we all know “Legally Blonde” is basically the law. So I’m allowing it.)

Happy Thanksgiving!

A few things I’m thankful for this year, in no particular order:

1. All y’alls. (Or, in the words of my native people, “all-uh-yas.”)
2. Kids who aren’t mine.
3. Shonda Rhimes and Jenny Lawson.
4. Miranda Lambert and Anna Nalick.
5. “Silver Linings Playbook.”
6. Therapy and progress therein.
7. Prescription drugs.
8. My friends — “Boyz II Men, ABC, BBD, the East Coast fam-i-ly.” (Yep. Said it. Deal with it.)
9. Four straight days with no alarm clock.
10. Gravy.

There are more, but those are my favorites. Enjoy your day, guys. Gravy be with you. (And also alcohol, because let’s be honest…)

Victoria’s Secret is that she’s always cold.

As if we needed more proof of what a classy lady I am, I pulled my bra strap away from my back because it was itching, and ended up putting my finger through the fabric.

I mean, it’s like you can’t rely on a 5-year-old bra anymore. What CAN I believe in, Universe?

Right, then. Shopping. 

Also, this is totally how I roll when I wear flannel pajamas. Victoria’s Secret gets me.



Email to friends:
“My therapist is really into baby steps, so she’s telling me to just watch workout videos as a step toward getting myself into a workout habit.
“So I’m watching/listening to Insanity while I’m working, and as it turns out, I can’t just sit here with Shaun T heavy breathing, grunting, and shouting commands into my headphones.
“AHEM. *squirm* I think I should change over to Netflix.”
I am perhaps too aurally stimulated, but… “Start to warm it up. We’re going through a few exercises right now, until you’re dripping.”
UNF. Dripping achieved.
Working out is totally easy.

Selly Celly

I almost never say “mansplaining,” but I absolutely just had it happen to me, via a Facebook friend I rarely talk to. (Come to think of it, I don’t know why we’re Facebook friends. I will remedy that.)
I mentioned I was going to a cell phone store, NOT requesting help in any way. But he climbed straight up my ass: “What do you need? Oh, a new phone? What kind? Have you been with them long? You might be better off calling to find out what they’ll offer you for customer retention. You should wait to see what they’re offering for Black Friday. And other stores might have better deals. Be careful with the plans they offer you. Check if it’s an authorized retailer or a franchise store, that might affect what they can give you.”
*looking around* Um…I AM literate, right? To read makes my speaking English good? I’ve had a cell phone for 15 years. I think I got this. Also, I am a grown woman who’s worked in retail and shopped for things allllll by myself for a good portion of my life. I know sales BS when I hear it, and I CAN do math (if given enough time and a pencil and paper). Under the T&A, I promise there’s a fairly functional adult. True story: they let me drive a car and everything. I am going to a store to get information. If the information pleases me, I will make a purchase. That is how shopping works.
Sidebar: my current phone is possessed such that I don’t care about Black Friday. I will spend money to guarantee I’m NOT phantom dialing obscure contacts without touching the phone. (Thankfully I deleted all my ill-advised “dates” from the phone, so it can’t call anyone dangerous, but it’s still not optimal.)

Lights, camera, nonsense.

Talking to a friend: “Do you have time to pick up a GoPro before Thanksgiving? Because you could just show your therapist the footage of your family dinner and say, ‘This. This is what I’m dealing with. Fix it.’

“The therapist might even give you a discount once she sees it, in which case the camera would basically pay for itself.”