Sometimes you have to find the little things in life to be grateful for.
Like the fact that I made it to age 33 having never encountered the term “little balloon knot.”
Or the fact that 15 minutes was spent sitting with my professional, educated colleagues debating the meaning of this term.
(For those of you wondering*, it’s an asshole)
*Mom and Dad
Guys, this really weird thing happened where I went on a date last night, had a nice time, and then I heard from him TODAY. Not a week later, not EXACTLY 3 days later, not by accident because he meant to text a different Emily, not the next time he was drunk/stoned/watching porn. The NEXT day. Sober. While the sun was still up.
What do you think that means?
Oh, that he’s a mature 30-something male in Manhattan?
Well. This is new.
Him: “You have that natural look. Like, you’re pretty without makeup. That’s hard to pull off.”
Me: “I appreciate you saying that, but I’m not sure that’s accurate!”
Him: “It is. Trust me. Most girls show up to a first date wearing so much makeup. You barely have any on, and you look great. That’s really impressive.”
Me (coy smile, blushing): “Aw, well thank you.”
I was wearing a SHIT TON of makeup.
Oh. Real = sit on my face? Glad we cleared that up.
Oh….no.
You’re still a young single guy with a cat. 
I clicked yes because there’s something very comforting about knowing exactly how you’re going to die.
Possibly too harsh a response but I am in NO mood this week, Brian.
Weirdly the conversation ended there.
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