Loving

Sisters <3

Get Your Tutor On

The actual desk where the magic happens.

One of the several jobs I hold in order to maintain my ultra-fabulous wine country lifestyle is tutoring.

I fancy myself a pretty great tutor actually: I pepper legitimate academic suggestions with hilarious personal anecdotes and ultra-relevant current events. Basically the whole thing is as much an ego-trip as it is a means of supporting myself.

One of my students has been a particular struggle since the beginning. A Panamanian, English as a Second Language, 21-year-old mother with a 5-year-old daughter, trying to put herself through community college. I feel like I need a shower every time I take her money.

So you’ll understand my distress upon receiving the following text from her yesterday, a mere 30 minutes before her scheduled appointment:

“I’m a little buzzed. Is that okay?”

Good for her! Drinking is fun! She deserves fun!

But also - no. It’s really really not okay.

Voyeurtastic

This is not my actual house, but it is about the same size.

So, let’s get into this. My landlady - whoah.

Let me be clear: my house is approximately 35 feet directly behind hers. My windows line up perfectly with hers. Also, she lives with her creepy, unemployed, 40-something nephew named George*, who has never actually introduced himself, I had to use my detective skills to figure out who she is always talking about when she says “we”. Needless to say, the majority of the time my blinds are closed. But sometimes it’s really really nice outside and I just want to open up my windows and let the super awesome sunshine in, you know?

I will put up with a hell of a lot to maintain the INCREDIBLY fantastic lifestyle of living alone. I was born to live alone people, I just can’t get enough of it. However, this just happened:

Dee (landlady, and yes there are really people named Dee) approaches me as I’m getting out of my car, like a chubby little stealth gnome with way short white hair and a cutoff sweatshirt tank top. She absolutely never says “hello” when she’s beginning a conversation, she just dives right into the topic on her mind, which I both loathe and admire about her.

So she pops out of absolutely nowhere, scaring me shitless and says, “Me and George think it’s kind of strange that this morning you opened your blinds, but then 2 hours later, you closed them again. It’s not like we’re watching you or anything”.

Uh, yes. Yes, you are.




*Named changed because unlike Dee, I think George actually knows how to surf the internet. You know, for porn and stuff.

Oh, Hai.

This is where I work now. It's okay to be jealous.

Um, hey guys.

So, ya, it’s been awhile.

I’m really sorry it’s just that I’m super, you know - selfish and lazy. Which are two things I constantly strive to both hide from the world and occasionally resolve to improve about myself.

So much to catch up on in the last, holy shit, almost year.

10 Fabulous Updates:

1. I got a job and moved to Central California to work in a winery and it is honestly the best. For you burgeoning alcoholics out there, the answer is: yes! You can realize your dreams of drinking professionally, now go out there and drink your way to the top my little pals!

2. I live in a tiny house all of my own behind an absolutely psychotic 75 year old, butch, lesbian on welfare (more on that later).

3. I grew a weird, sort of furry/fleshy tail.

4. No, I really didn’t. You guys are soooooo gullible, honestly.

5. The reason I wanted to write this post is actually super selfish, because I woke up this morning with LEGITIMATELY the largest ever zit documented, on my chin. And I considered calling in sick to work because when people look at me I want to cry and punch them in the face (consider yourself lucky Guy-Who-Sold-Me-Coffee-This-Morning). And then I wanted to share my horrible circumstances with the world. And THEN I thought, “Didn’t there used to be this public arena where I shared my inappropriate, crass thoughts and feelings with my closest friends and strangers?”. Oh ya. My blog.

6. My hair is still curly, don’t worry.

7. This morning I ran 3 miles, I’m basically an athlete now.

8. We elected a black man president! Oh wait... when was that, again?

9. I knocked up a goat. Not literally, but ya. That’s a post for another day.

10. Missed you.

Pour Me A River

The hardest thing about wine tasting? Pouring out the wine. 

Intellectually, I understand that if you're planning on going to more than one location and trying a few glasses of wine, you will inevitably get sloshed. 

But here's the thing, I paid for that wine, homie - and it tastes real good. And I'm not pouring it out. Cause that's just dumb.

B to the D to the ayyyyyyy

Birthdays are annoying because of social norms. Apparently it's not kosher to scream at everyone "but it's my fucking birthday!!"

Standing in a long line to buy chips & guacamole (lunch), when the guy where I buy ice tea doesn't make eye contact while handing me change, when someone cuts me off on the freeway. 

I feel irrationally angry that perfect strangers don't stop what they're doing to wish me a great day, and do really special, kind things basically constantly throughout the entire part of June 23rd that I'm conscious. 

I have a goddamn aura of sparkly rainbow birthday sunshine around me! Assholes.

Happy Happy... Happy

On this, the eve of my 25th birthday, I've been doing some thinking. Thinking about things like:

• How I just quit my job, which seemed like a really good idea at the time but now when people ask me what I do, I have to cheerily say "I'm unemployed!"
• How when I meet new people I like to say that I have two elderly roommates and make it sound really creepy (they keep pictures of me everywhere...) and get them all weirded out to the point they stop responding before I just relent and say these roommates actually created me as a human being.
• How when I was in elementary school and we'd play "Grown Ups" I'd always say I was 23 - and I'd have a husband, several children and a house.
• How I sometimes wonder why I don't have a boyfriend, but when guys buy me drinks in bars I have been known to say "Good Evening Mr. Douchepants" - but I always finish the drink.
• How when I was 4 I told my mom I wanted to be a man when I grew up (mans don't cry).
• How I never got a single detention in school, but turns out - nobody gives a shit.
• How at least I figured out I better pluck my effing unibrow or I'd have no friends.

Dear god I feel old.