I’m watching Sweet Home Alabama, and even when I saw it in the theater, when he takes her into Tiffany and tells her to “pick one” engagement ring, I got anxious. That’s too many choices, I’ll be here for 14 hours. YOU pick one. I’m-a go get a pretzel.
(And by “YOU pick one,” I mean pick one at Kohl’s and use the rest of the money to take us to Italy.)
(OK, fine, not really Kohl’s — I’m not THAT bad. But he’d know which friends to call.)
I was in a perfectly fine mood this morning after seeing many sweatered dogs at the farmers market. Dogs in sweaters are, like, bonus Paxil.
But then I spent 2 hours with my family, and got a few texts about work, and now I’m in bed with a blanket over my head and earplugs to block out any outside noise that may infiltrate my fragile senses.
Apparently even though the Pill stops my actual period, it doesn’t do much for PMS with a side of family and stress.
Anyone got any crack?
At the end of his first OkCupid message, responding to a particular line in my profile, a man asked, “Why don’t you like Cuddling?”
Um, why don’t YOU like boundaries, fuckface? All the other things I said, you’re gonna start in with some shit right off the top?
I have things to DO, sir. I don’t have time for cuddling (or, in fact, “Cuddling”).
Ahem… See, this is why I don’t actually date, but DO go to therapy.
(In defense of my intimacy issues, what I actually SAID is, “I’m not a big fan of cuddling.” I have ADD, dude — I get bored.)
“Damn, I feel so much more human today than I did yesterday. What the hell happened?”
“Well, you stayed in bed for 2 days straight and then took your ADD meds with coffee.”
I’m not recommending this as a life choice, but…I mean, I DO feel better…
A man sent me an intro message on OkCupid that said, “I can tell from your profile that you’re very laid back, which I like in a woman.”
Um… no, I’m totally not.
The insanely thorough profile doesn’t really scream “Cool Girl,” does it? How’d you arrive at that? Show your work.
Also, when you say you like “laid-back” women, I’m reading that you like women who won’t bug you too much, because “BITCHES, man, amirite?”
NOPE. I don’t care about things some men seem to assume all women do. I won’t try to make you watch The Notebook or come to my yoga class or go shopping with me. (I’d actually prefer you didn’t.) But you’ll definitely know when something’s important to me. An ex of mine said I “hint with a hammer” — subtlety isn’t really my deal.
I also drink too much coffee and take a crack-based drug for ADD, so I’m almost always jittery. Plus I have massive trust issues, and assume fight stance quick when I think someone’s testing them — my brain basically turns into River Tam toward the end of Serenity, beating the shit out of the Reavers.
I am high-the-fuck-strung, sir.
Again, George Carlin says it better: “I’m not ‘laid-back,’ and I’m certainly not ‘mellow.’ I associate those qualities with the comatose. The solar system wasn’t formed because matter was laid-back; life didn’t arise from the oceans and humans descend from the trees because DNA was mellow. It happened because of something called ENERGY.”
Short Story Table of Contents (adjusted for ADD):
5 pages
11 pages
10 pages
8 pages
28 pages Jesus Christ this is taking forever I fucking hate this book kill me
9 pages
11 pages
8 pages…
That’s it, I have done HAD IT with you people and your ridiculous facts and science — I demand someone invent a blood test for mood issues. Yep. Blood. Science it up, people, I don’t care how you make it physiologically valid. But all this “being aware of my feelings” shit is just not gonna work for me. I have things to DO. I don’t have time to think about how I feeeeel.
Psychiatrist: “Well, can you ask your friends if they’ve noticed changes in your mood?”
…I’m sorry, you want me to be the Gretchen Wieners of mood disorders?
“I mean, you wouldn’t be bipolar without asking your friends first if it looks good on you!” And you know ADD only comes in sizes 1, 3, and 5 — I’d have to try Sears.
#WorldsWorstPatient
I would prefer not to be the kind of woman who gets a tiny self-esteem boost when someone asks if she’s lost weight. Especially when it’s accompanied by, “You look so skinny!”
Ahem… I would prefer not to be…
In my defense, I was getting a li’l rotund for 5 feet tall. So it’s good to hear all this fresh food/taking walks/ordering less takeout bullshit may be helping. (Don’t get it twisted — there’s still ice cream. I don’t hate myself THAT much.)
Also, a happy bonus of ADD is that drugs for it can suppress appetite, and dehydrate you so you drink tons of water and aren’t as hungry. They may also have crack in them. I don’t know. I’m not a scientist.
I would prefer not to be the kind of woman who gets a tiny self-esteem boost when someone asks if she’s lost weight. Especially when it’s accompanied by, “You look so skinny!”
Ahem… I would PREFER…
In my defense, I was getting a li’l rotund for 5 feet tall. So it’s good to hear all this fresh food/taking walks/ordering less takeout bullshit may be helping. (Don’t get it twisted — there’s still ice cream. I don’t hate myself THAT much.)
Also, a happy bonus of ADD is that drugs for it can suppress appetite, and dehydrate you so you drink tons of water and aren’t as hungry. They may also have crack in them. I don’t know. I’m not a scientist.
P.S. I know I’ve bitched about people commenting on my weight in the past, so to clarify, this was someone I’m cool with.
Oh, look — there are my feelings.
Thanks, office vending machine!
#ThisIsWhyYoureFat #AndWhyYouHaveADDProbably
WOW. Can you just…stop saying things?
Sometimes I shut my goddamn mouth specifically to avoid saying something stupid. You know, like THAT.
Via Huffington Post: John Kasich Is Seemingly Baffled By Young Women Who Get Politics. 
Like… HOW? HOW? HOW are you at a mic in front of a crowd, thinking, “Oh. OH! This’ll be great, I’ll say THIS!” And then he trots offstage all, “You guys! Did you see? NAILED IT!”
They DO let women vote now, Governor. I know, right? I was shocked, too! But I watched “Suffragette” the other day and apparently it’s a thing! Obviously I’m not 100% sure because there’s so little room in my brain for facts next to Taylor Swift and rainbows, but..Votes from the Vaginal WOULD add to your bottom line, no? (And I do mean “bottom,” because you’re totally fucked here.)
Any politician worth electing would at LEAST give us pretty little ladies the ILLUSION that he gave a shit. Bernie Sanders has effectively assembled a goddamn army of ride-or-dies, with a shit-ton of Millennials ready to do his bidding, at least until their Adderall wears off. And Donald Drumpf has found his niche of angry middle-class (read: po’) white folk ready to make America great again. Whatever disagreements I have with them, those guys know how to work that pole.
Jesus Christ, Kasich — who the fuck taught you how to pander?
Smug Singleton 