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I don’t own anything that glows in the dark. At all. I attribute my random bouts of sadness to this fact.

There are two foods in the world that make me actually angry. Those foods are ciabatta bread and sultanas. I especially hate when something that should be sultana-free has sultanas hiding in it.

I’m on a hair metal kick. It’s probably because I’m Sticky Sweet.

Tonight I ate dessert before I ate dinner.

There are two words I’ve always mispronounced but only realized in the last few years. It’s because I only ever read these words in books and never really said them out loud.

One of those words is “misled.” I always read it as, “My-zold.” Like, “I thought there was going to be free pizza here. I feel myzold.”

The other of those words is “chasm.” Even right now as I typed it, I pronounced the ‘ch’ part of it. It was only a few months ago that I was talking to a friend and was all, “It’s like there is this CHasm between me and cute shoes that don’t hurt my feet.” And my friend was all, “Do you mean kasm?” and I was all, “WHY THE HELL IS THERE AN H THERE THEN?”

I feel like the ‘h’ in chasm myzold me.

When I don’t know what to say in a conversation, I just say this: “happy stars.”

Once, my friend J and I were talking about stuff and he mentioned he wasn’t feeling well. I asked him if I could do anything for him. He said, “Bring Vodka. Draw Flowcharts. Don’t marry Bret Michaels.”

This is now my new life motto.

Plus, I’m a Sebastian Bach girl.

Once when I lived in the apartment with the elevator, I saw a girl shove a boy out of her apartment in the morning. He was doing the walk of shame. He was wearing boxers and carrying his jeans. He looked hungover and sad. I gave him a bottle of water I had with me. He rode the whole way to the ground floor without putting on his pants.

I hope he found a nice lady eventually. One who would let him put on his pants before leaving her apartment.

Two years ago, I was in the Seattle airport waiting for a flight to Atlanta. I was also talking to my friend Blue Mike on my computer (via chat). and this dude sits next to me and starts being all chatty. And I’m trying to talk to Blue Mike and this chatty dude is being too chatty. So I tell Blue Mike and he’s all, “Can he see your computer screen?” and I said no and Blue Mike was all, “Turn it to where he could read over your shoulder if he wanted to.”

So I did.

Then Blue Mike started typing some very VERY strange things. Things that were of a sexual nature. I’m pure as the driven snow, so I covered my eyes. But I do know what he typed involved cookie dough, goats, jumper cables, and the seven dwarfs.

And then I got up for a minute and left my computer there while I went to talk to the gate agent (because I was flying stand by). And when I came back, the dude was red-faced and went to find another seat. Then he whispered to another dude and they both looked at me.

Later, when we landed in Atlanta, Chatty Dude came up to me at baggage claim and asked me if I wanted to have drinks while I was in town, and if not, did I want to meet up with him next time he was in Seattle.

The End

PS: Today I decided I’m badder than Leroy Brown.

PPS: Also, I’m considering getting a tattoo. It won’t have anything to do with Leroy Brown. But still. It’s a thought and I’m considering it.

PPPS: Mama, please still love me re: the tattoo.

Happy stars.

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