We’re this close to synchronized Swatches.

Texting with friends…

Friend 1: “You know it was a productive therapy session when you immediately get cheese fries afterwards.”

Friend 2
: “Nice. I’m going tonight as well.”

: “Ha, I’m going tomorrow.”

Friend 1
: “Awwwww…we’re on the same therapy cycle.”

Friend 2
: “That feels more important than syncing our periods.”

My friendship with Internet science is decidedly NOT magic

Well. That is excellent.

I mean, I already knew, from that clusterfuck with That Guy and a few experiences since — I’m going through one now, actually. I am clearly a shit judge of friendship, but knowing there’s science afoot doesn’t make it any less depressing.

Thanks, Internet. You are NOT my friend. At least I know that.

Sad Study Shows Most of Your Friends Don’t Actually Like YouScreen Shot 2016-05-09 at 11.22.46 AM.png

Life Lessons from Small Ponies. 

You could probably tell I didn’t have the best emotional time over the weekend (fuck the entire Venn diagram of the holidays and PMS, seriously). Male BFF was concerned and invited me over for alcohol and merriment with him and his lady, one of my Female BFFs.

I declined but texted my thanks, and man, I tell ya, the My Little Ponies are right — friendship IS magic: 


Going to the mattresses. Take that as you will…

Sure, OK. I’m at work, hopped up on coffee, haven’t eaten yet, hormonal, feeling other pressures about family and money issues…

This seems like a great time to argue with a male friend over email. That GOOD argue, too — the kind where you’re shaking with anger and feel like, if you were arguing in person, it might end up either in a fistfight or fornication.

Why the fuck not?

By the way, dude is fine, I’m the crazed one: What? WHAT? I wish a motherfucker WOULD say some shit.

P.S. What? Oh, it’s just me that has this issue? Well, shit…

Let’s get to know each other better. And by “better,” I mean “naked.”

I’ve been tempted to contact an acquaintance of mine and just say, “I think you’d be amenable to sleeping with me, that you’d satisfy me, and not disrespect me OR want to date me after. So… wanna?”

I’d be offended if a guy said that to me, but I suspect, as a woman, it would make me some kind of hero.

A public apology.

I’d like to issue a public apology to two of my lady friends for ever having doubted in the slightest their mutual investment advice re: high-end sex toys.

Used it once, totally worth it. And holy shitsnacks, I can do it again?! Whenever I want? Life rules. And by “life,” I obviously mean Lelo.

(Also, they sell them cheaper on Amazon. Shhh!)