Me (to male student): “Wow, look at you! You look older!”
Kid: <blank stare, blatant discomfort>
Oh. Right. You’re pre-pubescent. This conversation is your worst nightmare.
Category Archives: Being Awkward/Dumb Stuff I Do
Airports Are My Favorite
“No. It doesn’t.”
— airport security, when they pulled a bottled water out of my bag and I remarked “Oops, forgot that was in there! I’m sure that happens all the time.”
No, I Would Actually NOT Be a Stellar Candidate For “The Bachelor”
Got some mail from an awesome fan, who suggested the following:
Oh, sweet little doe-eyed stranger. How kind of you to think I’d EVER make it onto The Bachelor, and how much kinder that you think I’d last long enough for you to tune in WEEKLY. It is very clear we have never met, because anyone who knows me in real life knows this would be an epically terrible idea.
Here are a few reasons I can think of, off-hand, as to why I would suck on The Bachelor:
1. I’m awkward.
1a) What’s that? Saying you’re awkward makes you even MORE awkward? Well these are things I don’t understand BECAUSE I’M AWKWARD. Weren’t you listening? Give me a goddamn break people!!!!! IT’S HARD BEING ME!
2. See 1a. I’m a lunatic.
3. I’m a terrible traveler. If they want to shoot the entire show on my denim couch, though, I’m in. (Yeah, my couch is denim. And don’t you DARE knock it til you’ve tried it)
4. I cry a lot. Nope, not the cute cry. The kind that makes people slowly back away and pretend they have an emergency cat situation they need to go tend to.
5. Jews don’t win that show. Have Jews even been ON that show? I have to assume no, based on all the nice hair and absolutely zero discussion of bowel movements.
6. I no longer know how to meet a man without first swiping his face right. Not sure how that’ll go over when I do it to the bachelor live on night 1.
7. I secretly hate most people. If you’re worried I’m referring to you, I might be.
8. I would trip/fall every. single. time. I went to accept a rose.***
***huge assumption just made that I would ever be offered a rose. I wouldn’t be, because see #1, 2 and 5
9. I would be that contestant who isn’t even attracted to the gorgeous hunk bachelor, but instead to his nerdy jewish agent.
10. I can’t be drunk in a bikini and NOT eat nachos. I feel like after day 3, that would become an issue.
11. Lisps don’t make for good TV.
12. I’m stopping this list now, because I’m frightened by how easy it is to write, and how much longer I could go on for. Cue ugly cry.
Seriously though- thanks for the suggestion, new friend! 
——————————————
Addendum: After writing this whole list, posting it, and re-reading it, I realized the email said I’d be a stellar candidate for The BachelorETTE, not The Bachelor.
Oh. Yeah. I’d be great on that!
No Cure For That
I strolled back into the Pressed Juicery this morning (shut up), ready and willing to try something of the green variety. Whatever, when in Rome, right? (Rome = Kardashian Town). I encountered a helpful man who was happy to guide a juice novice.
Me: “I had a coffee one the other day and I swear it cured my headache. But it was really high in fat, so I’d like to try one of the green ones. Are any of these known to help headaches and fatigue?”
Helpful Man: “Do you get headaches often?”
Me: “Yes.”
Helpful Man: “Do you have any allergies?”
Me: “Not that I’m aware of…”
Helpful Man: “Wheat?”
Me: “No.”
Helpful Man: “Gluten?”
Me: “No. No allergies. But I often feel headachy and dehydrated, even though I drink lots of water.”
Helpful Man: “Hmmmm”
Me: “I think it’s just because I’m Jewish.”
Helpful Man: “Yeah. Unfortunately we don’t have anything for that.”
Damnit.
Fun Things Single People Can Do In Their Spare Time
Try to shove your friend’s gorgeous wedding/engagement rings on your fat man-finger, then give up and transfer them to your pinky when it’s clear you’re going to break both your hand and the rings. And your will to live.
You know, if you’re looking for something to pass the time.
How I Know I’m the WORST
Someone should hit me. I deserve it.
I Woke Up With A Penis In My Face
Let me explain.
I sleep very deeply on flights. Knowing this about myself, I usually request a window seat so that I can snooze/drool/snore against the wall of the plane and not be in anyone’s way. But for this particular flight to LA, I ended up in the aisle seat.
In the middle and window seat were a younger boy and girl, around college age. When they sat down during boarding, they immediately began to canoodle– at which point, as a means of survival, I forced myself into a deep sleep. Don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly fine with couples who are in love and happy, I just don’t need that happiness spilling over the armrest and into my bag of Doritos.
I conked out immediately, before the plane even took off. I guess at some point, the limber young man in the window seat had to pee and didn’t want to wake me, so he climbed over me like a ninja. Which worked well on his way to the bathroom. I slept right through it. Unfortunately, on the way back, his catlike skills were no match for my contorted napping pose and my tendency to sleep-spasm. I shifted right as he was crawling over me, causing him to slip on the armrest and fall penis-first into my face.
His girlfriend laughed hysterically. I laughed too, because there was nothing else to do. The guy was apologetic and mortified. But the good news is that we all got to spend the next three hours sitting next to each other in a confined, intimate space. Our continental breakfast, served moments later, was a fairly awkward meal.
Was I annoyed? Eh, yes and no. To be honest, waking up with a penis in my face is totally fine with me. But as a grown, educated, independent woman, I think I have earned the right to choose said penis.
Things That Remind Me That I Don’t Know Anything
Me (watching a person scroll through her Instagram): “Woah woah woah– you can ‘like’ a photo on Instagram just by double-clicking the photo? I thought you had to hit the ‘like’ button.”
Person: “Oh my god, are you serious? Yes. Everyone knows this.”
Person is 11.
Of All The Annoying Things Ex-Boyfriends Do, Part 2
I Must Have That Birthday Glow
I pop into Starbucks after my morning run (in the SNOW– are you fucking SERIOUS, Winter? GO HOME) and my favorite elderly, sweet, soft-spoken barista takes my order.
Barista: “And happy birthday!”
Me: “Aw thank you! How’d you know?”
Barista: “You’re wearing a tag that says ‘It’s my birthday, bitches.'”
Me: “Oh. Right.”
Yeah. I know. I just wanted to hear you say bitches.
First birthday gift to myself? Check!
First sign I’m totally maturing? Double Check.
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