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.)
This is the online photo of another swimsuit I bought, and I texted a friend a photo of how it looked on me…
Me: “I’m sending this back. I don’t even know why I bought it. I’m gonna be standup paddleboarding and shit — I need something sportier. But damn, I look CUTE.”
Friend: “You look great and you should keep it and wear that shit every time you go near water.”
Here’s to friends who are more supportive than bathing suits. 🍸
Friend: “Do you ever buy new skincare and get super excited to try it, because just maybe it will fix your skin and all your problems?
“I went to Sephora today.”
Me: “Pretty much every time. I’m actually excited FOR you.”
Friend: “I got a sample of this and I’m very excited to try it. [preview ink]”
Me: “Holy shit, I didn’t even click it yet, but fucking TIGER GRASS. NICE.”
‘What IS it?’
‘Fuck if I know, put it on my FACE.’”
Friend: “EXACTLY. It’s the grass of the tiger, it’s the thrill of the fight…”
Me: “‘It’s only $18! I need it!’
‘Our skin doesn’t even GET red.’
‘SILENCE! I need it!’”
So, a friend and I went to our respective gyms this morning…
I appreciate having friends who know me well enough to be like, “Hey, honnney? You OK? ‘Cause…you got a little bitch on your face. You need some Midol? Maybe a cookie? You’re not normally THIS cranky.”
This week has been a goddamn eternity.
“We have to get up.”
“Why?”
“Because we LIKE the friends we’re seeing today!”
“They have plenty of people coming — who’d even notice?”
“There might be men there.”
“Eh. Dying alone is fine.”
“There’ll be a dog who likes to snuggle.”
😯 “WE RIDE!
On one hand, canceling plans IS my favorite. Very little in life is better — dogs, sure, but not much else.
On the other hand, meeting dudes at my friends’ huge parties has been the only successful route to nookie I’ve had in recent memory, and I’m kinda pissed I’m too sick to go prowlin’, because I am cute as fuck in Christmas garb.
Plus there’s definitely a dog there.
Fuck you and your betrayin’ ass, Body. This is NOT the bed I want to be in.🖕🏼
Guy I Dated for a Minute and I have mutual Facebook friends, but aren’t friends ourselves. I last saw him at a holiday party last year. We were friendly but didn’t talk much, and haven’t communicated since. Today he “liked” two of my comments — about a local bagel shop — on a friend’s post.
What in the schmeared fuck am I supposed to do with that? Stop being weird! I’m finally OK about you using me for sex and then ghosting on me because I am bad in bed or somehow otherwise boring or underwhelming… OH WAIT. See that? No, I’m not — I had just successfully buried it like a proper Irish girl should. Could you just stop being weird, then?
(Logically I know that’s not what he meant to do, and he’s probably at least half decent because my friends aren’t friends with assholes, and he just tweaked something in my pre-existing condition, and I’m glad I’m in therapy.)
My friend is taking November off from all her social media, and I’m over here like, “Um, I MIGHT last a weekend…” #junkie
Last week I went on vacation and stayed with a friend and her husband for part of the trip. My friend came down with a cold while I was there, and her lovely, amazing husband went out and brought her an assortment of cold meds, and when he realized he forgot something, went BACK out to get that as well.
So obviously now *I* have a cold, and I’m lookin’ around and it’s just me and Jesus in the house, and oddly, Jesus is shit at errands, so if I want drugs, I have to pull my 90-lb. skull off this pillow and go get them myself.
I see now that this is basically the ONLY reason to be in a relationship. A nice man is going to bring me wonton soup, but I don’t think he’s legally permitted to bring me Sudafed.
Right, then. So as soon as I get back from CVS, I’m gonna answer ALL the OkCupid messages, and hell, maybe sign up for Match, too.
“So, how did you two meet?”
“Well, it all began that day I needed a pharmacy minion…”
Smug Singleton 