Pick a little, talk a little, cheep cheep cheep...

I kinda want to start a blog where I post transcribed conversations I overhear between women in the bathroom. I don't know what it is, but I think we forget that other people can hear us when we're in there. In fact, Ladies, our words are magnified and echoed to the other chicks in the stalls. The really sad thing is that the conversations revolve around 2 subjects - Men that aren't doing what we want them to do, and Women we hate.

If you're a woman reading this and thinking to yourself, "I don't do that!" yes, you do. I challenge my sex to broaden our horizons and try to talk something else. I know it'll be hard; we've been conditioned over the years that the place we pee is the place we bitch. And how about while you're saying something nice about your guy friend's new girlfriend, you take a seat... it'll help you relax and save me from sitting in your germs later. Oh, what a lovely place the world will be!!

The Truth

I had the best conversation the other night. I was at a bar (I know, surprise surprise... shut up) with my childhood friend, when we ran into her sister. Her VERY drunk sister. When my friend introduced us, the following was said:

Sister: WHO are you?

Me: Sarah.

Sister: Oh, yeah! I don't like you.

Me: Oh yeah? Awesome.

My friend: No, no. You like Sarah. You don't like (other childhood friend who shall not be named... though it's tempting because she turned out to be an asshole).

Sister: Nope. Don't like you. (hiccup) Never did.

Me: Well, it's nice to meet you for the first time ever.

That's pretty amazing. Now, I gave her alot of leeway in this scenario, because she was so wasted. Any protests on my part would've made her insist harder, and maybe turn violent... I dunno, she had alot of tattoos. I don't mess with chicks with alot of tattoos. Also, I kind of like the thought of people having the courage - albeit liquid courage - to say what they're actually thinking. I also like thinking I'm memorable and powerful enough to be remembered unfavorably for 20 years.

On another note, I discovered the best thing ever: I found a light in a bathroom in a house in Wellesley, MA, under which I look STUNNING. Seriously, this is my spot. I couldn't stop staring at myself in the mirror. I actually kept leaving the party I was at to go into the bathroom to look at myself. So, let's all pick a day when we travel to this bathroom in MA and look at me under the light. You will not be disappointed.

Wow, no wonder that girl hates me.

I was in Hamilton, Bermuda, the other day, chilling at a coffee shop, using their free WiFi, when this box walked by me:




The owner's kid was parading around, having the time of his life, unaware that what he's doing is totally weird. At what age do we stop letting kids do strange things? I'd put him at 7 years old; do you think if he was thirteen it wouldn't be as endearing? What if I did it today? I think I could pull it off. Somebody get me a refrigerator box.

Only 2 and a half more weeks and I'm home! What the hell am I going to do with myself? Yikes.

My new unhealthy obsession is the TV show Friday Night Lights. I've watched 3 seasons just this week. It can't be good for the brain to watch 12 straight hours of a TV show, while only taking a break to get food from the buffet or pee. It's worth it. This show is A. Maze. Ing. It actually has a main character in love with his wife, not that cliche bullshit we see in sitcoms all the time. You know, the reluctant husband bound to the ball and chain. Instead, it's an example of a healthy, happy relationship. It's balanced; they fight and have misunderstandings, but the message is always "love your family, they are the most important thing." What a concept. And in this age, where a lot of kids (and adults) learn how to behave by watching TV, let's have more of that please! Let's make it cool again to be held accountable to the people we love.

Fashion Tips

Dear Men and Boys of my generation,

This is your official warning: if you don't start pulling up your pants, I'm going to start posting pictures of your ass crack on this blog. Nobody wants that. Do us all a solid.

I've seen a phenomenon a few times in the past year, and it must be addressed. Whenever there's some kind of accident, people rush over to the site and hover, watching the action. WTF? Get out of there! You're not helping anything. It's a part of human nature that I abhor.

Yesterday, I was waiting for some friends just outside the ship when I heard a piercing scream behind me. An old man had fallen off the trolley. Now, he was actually fine, since it was literally a foot from the ground. But her unnecessary, over-dramatic shriek attracted all kinds of attention AND freaked the old guy out. I'm sure he was thinking, "Good Lord, what does this woman see that I don't? This must be really bad!" Sure enough, here come all the people that just have to see what's going on. Give the man some privacy, and find something else to preoccupy your tiny minds with, people!

I came up with a joke recently, and I'm not quite sure how to get it out there. I figure this is a good place to start:

Q: What did the judge say to the 2 fruits in California?
A: Canteloupe!

Thank you, thank you (insert grand, sweeping bow here)

It's so hot in Bermuda today, I'm sweating from too much sitting around.

I have to laugh, because while writing this, I'm having a conversation over Facebook chat with the guy sitting across from me. Ah, modern flirtation. Gotta keep up.

And... for your viewing pleasure:




I call this: Naked in Public