Anecdata time! I’m very direct, but polite, and I try to not apologize unless I’m truly sorry, and not minimize requests. In office situations, which I avoid as much as possible, I am roundly and openly despised, mostly by other women.

Just yesterday, a man explained to me the difference between race and ethnicity, citing an article as proof to back him up. Unfortunately, for him, I wrote the article.

Same. I will confess, though, that I have been having sex with the same person for a long time and no one else, and that a lot of the time it’s pretty tender, and we say I love you and laugh together a lot. It’s so unfashionable.

Do you think it’s funny when everyone gets stoned, goes up on the roof, and throws apples at joggers just because they’re jogging?

she judges me for not having a life as rad as hers

dongs

Same. I guess the therapy worked. People don’t like me? (And they often don’t) - THEIR LOSS! Bye, shitlords.

I used to stay up all night agonizing over whether I had offended or upset or pissed someone off. Somewhere along the line I stopped giving a shit. It’s so liberating! Highly recommended.

“ I’ve been fired like that, just for asking a girl out who was a total tease, who had slept with probably half the office too, but just the circumstances..”

I mean, every outlet has its issues. The best way to get a good feel for what’s going on in the world is a steady diet of various news feeds.

Nothing at all is wrong with it, it’s just incomplete and they’ve lost a lot of great staff to Al Jazeera. They tend to focus most on post-Empire countries.

Can I apply this to my rotten stepmother? My mom’s cool. My father’s wife (and my father) are terrible people.

What?!?!

I can actually think of some social situations in which I would love to be able to projectile vomit. Family reunions, political fundraisers, SPJ meetups... the list is endless.

Heyyyy kinda-neighbor! C’mon out to the Blind Lady sometime (but not Fridays, that’s Peak Hipster.)

Me three. Hi from Normal Heights!

When I went to New York earlier this year (I’m a southern Californian too) I was looking around marveling at how people walk around in heels like it’s just nothing. Also, I realized that I dress like a 1920s street urchin. But, like, whatever, man, ya know?

Yeah, any time you bust out “don’t you know who I am?” you are an unqualified douchebag. There are no mitigating circumstances.

God I hate reporters.

But I can definitely see how that would totally be a hindrance to finding a partner. Maybe it really all is luck - or, worse, settling.