I don’t Black Friday shop. Being five-foot-two, I have never had the desire to be trampled into a human pancake, black heel imprints on my forehead.
I work hard to clear up the skin on my forehead. I don’t want footprints on it. Acne products are expensive, man.
However, Friday (yes, The Friday, Black Friday, the big kahoona), giddy from getting my hair done, I waltzed to my nearest Best Buy, blissfully unaware of the ugly shopper’s flurry that surrounded me.
Continue reading ➞ Cody, My Hero
The mailman did something DESPICABLE…
He left my package on the front porch.
Continue reading ➞ Mission: [PACKAGE RETRIEVAL]
I get my best brainstorming done in the bathroom—from my reign on the porcelain throne, if you will.
I am convinced this is normal. Everyone else is just too ashamed to admit it.
I don’t know why. It’s not like admitting a failed remembrance of the socially demanded hand washing ritual; a story to which, at parties, you are repeatedly forced to wail, ‘that was ONE time!’
Continue reading ➞ Thoughts From The Bathroom
Everyone hates the dentist. I feel bad for dentists because this fact is true. It’s nothing against them as people, of course. It’s just that the general public doesn’t like to be picked and prodded and asked, as full grown adults, whether they’ve flossed and brushed, and why not? etc.
I’m no exception to this. I don’t like the dentist. . For a vast number of reasons, actually. I’ll get into these in a second. But anyway, last week, I had to go for my biannual check-up.
I’m eighteen now, so I have to sign for everything, which is weird. And then of course my mom pays for it, haha. After signing, I sat in the waiting room a while, until this young looking guy took me back and did my ex-rays. Next, I was put in the chair with my bib and the dentist came in and told me I had a small cavity, needed to get my sealants redone, and have I ever gotten a orthodontist consultation? (All my life, that’s all I’ve ever heard. Since my teeth have grown IN, they’ve been trying to strap metal to them. . It hurts the ego.) I told her politely that I have, so she left, and I started reading People’s magazine.
I quickly got engrossed in the devastating story of Baby Hope, the little girl they found stuffed in a cooler on the side of the road. Somehow, I didn’t realize there was a man sitting in the corner of the room. The man my dentist was saying “number 15 needs a new sealant, 14’s fine” and such. He suddenly spoke up and I almost jumped out of my skin and whacked him with the magazine. I didn’t. But wouldn’t that have made a good story? Haha, just had to share that.
Anyway. He told me that if they had the chance, they’d get my sealants done that day. But it didn’t happen, which is why I was back today. Oh goodie.
Continue reading ➞ The Dentist