Curtains, camo, cake, and Crazy Eyes.

I texted a guy’s dating profile photo to a friend…

Her: “Hard pass. The curtains. I can’t get past the curtains.”

Me: “Holy shit, I didn’t even notice the curtains! They got lost behind the camo, the cake, and the Crazy Eyes!”

Her: “I’d like to give him props for making that cake, but that’s a Shoprite liner. He didn’t make that shit.”

I’m not posting the whole photo here because I’m not a COMPLETE asshole, but here are the offending curtains, and a bit of the camo.

NB: I am complete shit at home decor, so I’m not judging anyone’s style — I don’t even HAVE curtains. But I do have very mild OCD, and that mismatch would drive me batshit insane.

Fuck it, I should just get fatter.

I understand “non-scale victories” and other standard things people say here, but also…The number on my scale is not moving, and now I just want to eat only manicotti because fuck it, my efforts are meaningless and human bodies are stupid.

Thank you for attending my TED Talk.


Friday night I signed up for Bumble. Late Saturday night I sent messages to eight entire men. Today I’m staring at the phone waiting for the guy who looks like a more reserved Pete Holmes to write me back, because damn, dude, HIGH TIDE.

(If you haven’t heard the Holmes bit, the high tide is in my pants.) 🌊