My finger nails are entirely too long. After tearing apart the house last night looking for clippers I came to the conclusion that one of two things happened. 1. They fell out of my bag in Kansas City, lost forever. 2. Someone in my house used them and didn't put them back where they belong. Typing right now is torturous. I might scream. The most curious thing is that the fingernails on my left hand grow at three times the rate that the ones on my right do.
Missing just one day ONE DAY of work meant that I walked back into a library this morning that had obviously experienced the real life "Goosebumps" movie. Stine's monsters came tearing through here, causing panic and chaos, and leaving stacks of books scattered everywhere with no indication as to which ones had been checked back in or which ones needed to just be shelved, despite my signs guiding others on where to place such books. Nightmare fuel.
One of my students wrote me two narrative essays in the last week. The first was on her hate for primates, the second on her distaste for other people's loud chewing and other annoying habits. Checking into adopting her.
Daniel Smith and Sufjan Steven's cover of Daniel Johnston's "Worried Shoes" is the greatest cover ever performed. Of this I am sure and will fight anyone to the death who says otherwise.
Speaking of Sufjan, nearly the entire first draft of my stupid book was written to Carrie and Lowell played on repeat. Should it get published some day I'm hoping he'll realize it and delight me with a private performance of the entire album. In his underwear.
Cory's mom wanted to know if I wanted to cook an entire Thanksgiving meal with her. I don't. I just want to eat pizza and not move for five days please and thank you.
I sat next to the most eclectic mix of people during my recent trips on a plane. I hate flying but I love airports. I'm thinking about visiting there to just sit and watch people walk past me, trying to decipher where they're going and why. Will this get me arrested? To some people's eyes (probably TSA's) I look racially ambiguous. Maybe not be the best plan....
I took pictures of a model last weekend who later told someone he couldn't remember my name but that I was a "nice lady". Said model was higher than Willie Nelson on fucking 4/20. Also, I don't think I deserved the words "nice" and "lady" since I'm under the age of 50.
Before getting in my car this morning I took several selfies. Don't be embarrassed of anything you guys do today.
"I can't decide whether I wanna cut my bags or let them grow out."-something I said last night, and also millions of other women across the globe every damn day.
Ben Folds is a foul mouthed angel sent to us from Heaven to serenade us with his piano and make us feel sexually aroused for really no good reason at all. Also, I don't like going to shows where the crowd doesn't feel as though they can sing along at the top of their goddamned lungs. It's uncomfortable and makes it even more awkward when I'm the only person in the room screaming out song lyrics.
I saw too many women posting awful things about men on social media yesterday for National Men's Day. While I wonder if men really need their own day since they already run so much of the world I'm here to say that most of it was completely unfair. Dear Men, I love you.
Uber drivers who look like they double time as a lizard king and tell you smell nice because they're hungry should not be Uber drivers.
This has been thoughts that could've potentially Facebook status updates and/or tweets, brought to you by yours truly.
In conclusion...don't listen to everyone else, take more selfies. Post more selfies. Seeing other people's faces makes me happy, especially if you're happy when you're taking said selfies. Fuck society that says selfies are a bad thing. Take control of how you want the world to see you. Wanna Photoshop our your double chin? Do it. Beyonce does. Wanna shoot the selfies from up higher to remove ten pounds? Do it. Wanna post a picture of your shoes and the coffee your hand. Fucking do it.
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