—My hairdresser, whom I paid and tipped
I’m doing a show! Come! (If you want to. No presh.) ((But I’m just wondering why wouldn’t you want to? Like, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I get that. I’m just curious, I guess. But, whatever. Be who you need to be. Even if that person is a jerk face I’m not friends with anymore starting now.))
I’m going to be telling a story at Yum’s the Word next week. The line up is AMAZING. Christian Finnegan, Baratunde Thurston, Robin Gelfenbien, and little old me. Can’t believe I’m sharing a stage with folks like this!
"Hey! What do you think you’re looking at? A fully grown woman openly weeping at the slow jams section of a Katy Perry concert? Well then, you’re thinking correctly. As you were. And can you share your Prizm Vision glasses when you’re done with them? Sheesh! How many times do I have to think-ask?"
(She did generously share her Prizm Vision glasses in the end. Just goes to prove that you shouldn’t believe everything you hear about seven-year-olds.)
Having the best summer of my life…not just because I got my dream job or because I got to move back to New York City or because I somehow lucked into an underpriced apartment in a doorman building or because I finally gave myself permission to make an Indigo Girls Pandora station…all of which are true. And wonderful. But, the honest to goodness reason I’m so high on my life this summer is because I bought the cheapest full length mirror K-Mart sells for this sublet and it’s so warped and fun-housey that it makes me look at least ten pounds lighter. Maybe even fifteen. Every morning when I look at it, I actually thank the powers above for making my life so amazing.
If I knew this was the secret to my happiness, I would have saved so much therapy money in my mid-and-miserable-twenties when I was just wasting my life looking in high quality Bed, Bath & Beyond mirrors and hating every single thing about every single thing.
Guys, I can’t help but feel that this is a metaphor for something, but I don’t know what. John Green, do you read this blog? Any ideas?
Guy in windbreaker on the street asks me if I have five minutes to spare to save the children, I walk by without making eye contact.
Only three chunks of cookie dough in the pint of ice cream I paid $5 for, I’m ready to take down all of big business and start a revolution.