Tag Archives: orlando

The Dysfunctional Diners

18 May

Sometimes at work, I like to wait on dysfunctional families. And when I say “I like to wait on dysfunctional families” what I mean is “I really hate waiting on dysfunctional families in most circumstances, but when it is literally SO SLOW that I’m lucky to make 35 dollars, I like waiting on dysfunctional families because it gives me a source of entertainment.” Yesterday was one such day.

Outside of the bar area of the steakhouse, there is this little antique phone hanging on the wall above two chairs and a small cocktail table. Most people walk by the phone and don’t even acknowledge its existence. Sometimes people will say “Oh what a cute little phone!” and that’s the end of it. And then sometimes, but ONLY sometimes, will a family of four walk into the bar, only to have the younger of the two sons break away and say, “LOOK AT THAT PHONE MOM! ITS ANCIENT!” and the mom will screech and get out her iPad to take a photo of the kid climbing onto the chairs and putting his shoes on the table just to reach the phone, yank it off of the wall, and take a picture.

Already I knew… this was it. This family was going to be my source of entertainment for the night.

Now in order to fully let you understand what I was dealing with, I need to describe these people.

Over-Worked Father: Dressed in an Ohio State T-shirt with a receding hairline and a forehead that looked like it was made of turtle skin. (Tight, yet very wrinkly and malleable.) He looked like he had been forced to listen to the My Little Pony theme song (the 80’s version, not today’s version) on repeat for six years prior to entering this upscale steakhouse. He looked angry. He looked aggressive. He looked defeated.
Enabling Mother: Wearing a t-shirt covered by what I could only imagine was a jacket made from llama shavings. She had puffy blonde hair, but her inch-and-a-half roots were black and growing out. She was not excited to be in the steakhouse. She reminded me of the mom on American Beauty…. smiling, trying desperately to keep everyone together when everyone would much rather be three states apart in each direction. Seeing her smile actually made me sad.
Satan: Satan is the older of the two brothers. Wearing swim trunks and a gray t shirt, Satan literally did not smile ONCE in the two hours he was seated at this steakhouse. Literally, Not. Once.
Sid: I have named the younger of the brothers Sid because he literally was Sid from Toy Story.


Literally. This face. That voice.

So after Sid climbs onto the cocktail table to violently claim the antique phone, and after Enabling Mother takes the picture, the four of them sit down at a table. Already I can hear the muffled anger coming from their direction. Satan throwing his arms into the air and violently sighing, pushing so much air out of his lungs that Enabling Mother’s fluffy hair actually billows a bit from sitting across from him.

My coworker Lucas looks at the table, then looks at me.

Lucas: Have fun.
Me: Jesus take the wheel.

I grab four beverage napkins, and approach the table. I start to give myself a pep talk… I am smiling! I am happy! Maybe I can help this family stop fighting and make their meal really awesome, so they’ll leave happier than when they came in! I am an amazing employee and I can do this! There is a reason our company calls their employees “Stars!” AND I AM THAT REASON!!!

I inhale to greet them, and-
Enabling Mother: Will you two just SIT DOWN?
Satan: (Speak-yelling at Over-Worked Father in such a disrespectful tone I was surprised that no one physically assaulted him) YOU TOLD ME I COULDN’T BRING MY HEADPHONES TO DINNER AND NOW HE HAS HIS! (motions to Sid)
Sid: (Headphones in, playing a game on his smartphone that is larger and more high tech than my own phone. He is 8. He is not only completely unaware of this conversation, but also of me standing there beside him, beaming.)
Over-Worked Father: What were you going to use them for, anyway? Hm?
Satan: I ALREADY TOLD YOU. I was gonna watch YOUTUBE VIDEOS.
Over-Worked Father: And you? (looks at Sid) Hey!
Over-Worked Father: HEY!
Over-Worked Father: (gestures) SID!
Sid: (Looks up only because Over-Worked Father waved his arms)
Sid: (Takes out one, ONE, of the ear buds. He sighs.) I’m playing a game. DOY!
(Heightened silence while Over-Worked Father seems to be deciding which sound he hates more. Game VS YouTube. Finally he looks at Sid with eyebrows raised.)
Over-Worked Father: Sid? (As if to say… C’mon, Give your brother the headphones.)
Sid: (Already has the earbud back in and is playing his game. He is unaware of everything.)

Keep in mind I am STILL standing at the table, smiling, just watching all of this. Beaming. Smiling like this is the sweetest conversation I have ever heard in my entire life, as if this earbud saga is the most heartwarming tale of selfless love to ever touch my little cocktail waitress heart.

Enabling Mother: (Looks up at me with a huge smile.) Well… We aren’t spoiled, ARE WE? Ha ha ha HAHA! …Ha… um.

Silence. I am still standing there smiling, waiting to see if there will be ay other protests or interruptions before I speak. There are none.

Me: SO! How IS everyone today? Just wonderful? Fantastic! My name is Carolyn and I’ll be serving you today!
Family: Blank stares from everyone except for Sid, who is playing his game and not looking at anyone. Satan is giving me a look of pure evil and hatred.
Enabling mother puts her hands over her eyes. Over-Worked Father stares at a crumb on the floor.
Me: GREAT! May I start you all off with something to drink? Maybe some beer? (I shoot this at Over-Worked Father. He looks at me like I am his only key to salvation.)
Over-Worked Father: I’ll take a Sam Adams.
Enabling Mother: I need wine. A nice, dry red wine.
Me: But of course. And for you sir? (Talking to Satan)
Satan still has his arms crossed and is giving me the look of poison.
Satan: (Jaw drops to reveal uneven bottom teeth.)
Enabling Mother: Just a round of waters for them.
Me: Of course! I’ll be right back!

I can’t handle this. I can’t do it. I have never wanted to punch a child so much in my entire life. If I go back over to that table and Satan is still giving me that look, I will be FORCED to asked if there is ANYTHING I can do to make his dining experience more to his liking… I will ask him why he is so angry, and I WILL do it with a smile, and I WILL do everything in my power to make him stop looking like such a miserable little garbage can.

I deliver the waters, making sure to smile at Satan the entire time.
Me: So, does anyone have any questions about the menu?
Silence. Dead, still, silence. For a moment I wonder if I’m invisible. I wonder if I actually asked the question out loud, or if I just thought I did… Maybe I’M the awkward one here, just showing up to their table not saying anything at all…
Over-Worked Father: (To Satan) NO, actually I am POSITIVE that a potato is a vegetable.
Over-Worked Father: Yes. It is.
Satan: NO. It ISN’T.
Enabling Mother: It’s a starch.
(Over-Worked Father looks at his wife as if she is literally the dumbest person in the world. In just one look, I can tell that he is so disgusted at how his life has played out- that he has actually CHOSEN this woman to be his life partner, that he CHOSE to procreate with her above literally EVERYONE ELSE in the whole world, that his next words erupt from his mouth with such resentment and hatred I’m afraid the next topic of conversation will be custody rights. Custody Rights where both parents fight about who HAS to keep them.)
Over-Worked Father: Just because it is a starch doesn’t mean it isn’t a vegetable.
Me: (Beaming!)
Enabling Mother: Whatever. Either way, you need to eat healthier.
Over-Worked Father: I am on vacation, I will eat however I please.
Enabling Mother: (Finishing a gulp of wine) Oh, you’re on vacation? You’re at a work function. Please.

I actually witness Over-Worked Father picking and choosing his battles. He looks at the menu. And I am still standing there, waiting for someone to answer my question.

Over-Worked Father: Satan? What do you want to eat?
Satan: I already TOLD YOU, I want WINGS.
Over-Worked Father: (Death stare. I suddenly realize where Satan has learned his facial expressions.) They don’t have those here. Get the kids fillet. It’ll be the best thing you ever eat.
Satan: I don’t WANT IT.
Enabling Mother: Okay, you know what? They don’t have wings! Okay, fine, nothing. He will have nothing. I am going to have the french onion soup and the wedge salad.
Me: Very good!
Enabling Mother: Sid?
Sid: (Playing his game)
Me: (Beaming at Sid)
Enabling Mother: (Punches him on the arm.) HEY! Mac n’ cheese?
Sid: (Barely responds. I think I may have heard him say “Mm.”)
Enabling Mother: Mac N’ Cheese for him.
Over-Worked Father: I am going to have the Salmon. GOD I’m at a steakhouse and I’m getting SALMON.
Me: Actually our salmon is phenomenal. You won’t be disappointed.
Enabling Mother: (Ignoring me) Make sure you ask for the lentils on the side. I won’t eat those.
Over-Worked Father: Whatever, they’re big. I’ll move them away, it’s not a big deal.
Me: (Thinking “Our lentils are actually tiny, but I’m not going to say that for fear of getting stabbed.”)
Enabling Mother: (suddenly sweeter than ever) Satan? Honey, are you’re sure you don’t want anything?
Satan: (Stares at her. Pouting. Mutters-) …Ids Illay.
Enabling Mother: What was that!?
Satan: (Yelling) KIDS FILLET.
Me: (Looking directly at Satan himself) And how would you like that prepared, young sir?!?!
Satan: (Pure evil. Poison is leaking from his eyes.)
Enabling Mother: Medium well.
Me: Fantastic! I’ll get that right in for you, and I’ll also bring some fresh bread and butter for the table.
Me: (Wanting desperately to say “Wait- you can hear me! You can SEE me!?” I walk away.)

When I bring the bread to the table, Sid hulks out. He RIPS the earbuds out of his head and lunges for the bread, as if he hasn’t eaten in six weeks. With every inhale it sounds like he’s slurping something- which is quite a miraculous feat because he is ingesting BREAD, and with every exhale there is an audible vocalization of “Mmmm.” It’s a rather disturbing cycle, but no one addresses it. Meanwhile, Satan is sitting in his chair like a frog. The bottoms of his shoes are actually on the seat of the chair, and any time he wants to drink his water, he literally springs up, puts his hands on the table, and bends over to put his mouth on the straw… instead of just picking up the glass and bringing it to his mouth like any other normal person on the planet. No one addresses this either.

When their food finally does come, I watch intently to see what happens. I watch to see if Satan does, indeed, like his KIDS FILLET. He does. Obviously, you’re gonna like the kids fillet, you ungrateful, unwanted, rat-faced collection of disappointments and broken dreams. You’re at one of the best steakhouses in Orlando and you’re eating a 5 oz fillet! And even if it IS prepared medium well, thanks to your insane to the membrane mother, it’s going to be the best thing you eat all week.

So, that’s basically the end of the story. Once the food came everyone kind of shut up and ate, and the only thing that was semi-amusing about them at this point was when Sid grabbed the black dish that held their side item, and screamed, in the EXACT voice of Sid from Toy Story, “IS THIS MADE OUT OF IRON????” Over-Worked Father tipped 20 percent and they all decided to GTFO. I think he was appreciative that I didn’t announce that we had dessert options… instead, I discreetly handed him the dessert menu out of view of his spawn and said, quietly, “In case you’re interested…”

It’s sad, but I’ve come to realize the importance of alcohol mixed with some good food when it comes to dysfunctional families. Usually by the end of the meal I can have people laughing and actually interacting with each other without arguing anymore. And yet, with this family, I was just happy that no one got slapped… by me. I hope the rest of their business trip/vacation(???) fared better than that atrocious meal, but I won’t hold my breath. I bet Sid is still sitting somewhere right now playing his game and slurp-breathing, and Satan is watching YouTube with that disgusted look on his face, Enabling Mother is looking through a magazine at the body and life she’ll never have, and Over-Worked Father is answering emails and wondering where his life went wrong. It’s really sad to think about these families like this once they’re gone, so I try not to. I just bring them their check, and hope for the best. I have to pay my bills, you know.


The 7 Most Frequently Asked Wizarding World Questions, And Their Answers, Respectively.

7 May

1.) What is the line outside of Olivander’s for?

Answer: The line outside of Olivander’s wand shop is for the Olivander’s Wand Experience. It’s a constant live demonstration, showing how a wand can choose a wizard. 20 to 30 people get pulled into the room, and one person of those is chosen to experience what it’s like to have their first wand choose them. It’s a very special room, being the only Ministry-approved room where real magic is allowed to happen in all of Hogsmeade!

Answer I’d Like To Give: The line outside of Olivander’s is for Ihop. Wizards love pancakes.

2.) Where is the castle?

Answer:  (Points to Hogwarts.) That is the castle.

Answer I’d Like To Give: The castle is actually lost right now. Oh, yes. A very unfortunate accident involving a very large shipment of invisibility cloaks. Ministry personnel are currently on the search. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Can I offer you a key chain?

3.) Where is the closest bathroom?

Answer: Right down the path to your right, under the hanging cauldron.

Answer I’d Like To Give: (Points to trees.)

4.) Where is the exit for the Dragon Challenge Roller Coaster?

Answer: The exit is directly up this path. There, you will find a shaded seating area where you can wait for your party.

Answer I’d Like To Give: There is no exit. That is why it’s called the Dragon CHALLENGE. You didn’t want to see your family again anyway, did you?

5.) Do you guys have anything Dobby-related, other than this pin?

Answer: Unfortunately not, I’m so sorry! Everyone always asks that. Dobby’s one of my favorites, too! It’s so sad that we don’t have more merchandise featuring him.

Answer I’d Like To Give: I have an iron at my house, which is an item that I believe Dobby once used to punish himself for disobeying his masters. I don’t use it to punish myself. Much… Just when my boyfriend comes over. (Rubs backside.) Also, I’m wearing socks. Can I help you find anything else?

5.) Where are the Ravenclaw Journals?

Answer: We actually don’t make Ravenclaw journals, which is very silly, considering Ravenclaws are the most studious of the houses! I’m very sorry for the inconvenience.

Answer I’d Like To Give: The Ravenclaw journals are with the Dobby For President T-Shirts, right next to the stuffed animal Dobby’s, and the Dobby Sock Freedom Four Pack. That’s all actually located under the statue of Dobby, inside of the Tribute To Dobby Museum of Dobby.

6.) How much are the wands?

Answer: Wands are 31.92. After Ministry tax, that amounts to an even 34.00 dollars.

Answer I’d Like To Give: The wands are free to anyone who can perform a Patronus Charm. Any charm, for that matter. Do it. I dare you.

7.) (Points up) …Harry Potter?

Answer: I’m sorry? I’m not quite sure what you’re asking.

Answer I’d Like To Give: You know what? No. Just, no. Not today, not now, not ever. People like you make me want to dress up like an owl and hang myself from the rafters of the Owl Post. I don’t even know what you’re asking. I just… I really… Just… GTFO.

The Price of My Dignity Is 35 Dollars: A Chat With Adam Lord.

24 Oct
One new message, from ADAM:
Adam: I want to swim around in your irises.
Me: …I want to taste the smell of your voice.
Adam:  I want to lie down in your mind and do cartwheels through your personality.
Me: I want to make love to your fears, I want to hold hands with your insecurities and grow old through our abandonment.
Adam: I want to take off my clothes and watch you eat mashed potatoes without using your hands.
Me: I want that too. I also want to eat the meat of a slice of watermelon off of its peel, then use the peel to cover my nipples in a U-shaped carcass of a consumed fruit.
Adam: I do too. I also want to wrap mayonnaise-covered sausage links around your entire body like you’re a mummy and then over the course of three days where we watch all three Lord Of The Rings extended editions, eat the entire thing starting at your feet.
Me: Adam… I can’t wait forever for you to propose to me. You’re breaking my heart.
Adam: We haven’t even made out yet.
Me: You just said you wanted to wrap my body in sausage and eat it off while watching all 3 extended LotR movies. We could have never met and I would still consider it.
Adam: I know what you like. The path to your heart is paved with meat and Orlando Bloom stares.
Me: Don’t forget kittens.
Adam: Almost did. So sorry.
Me: Hold me.
Adam: I’m waiting for you to realize there’s nothing for you in Orlando except hopelessness and forgotten dreams. Then and only then will I embrace you.
Me: Today on Craigslist I found a job that offered to pay me 35 dollars an hour to be a receptionist at a nudist colony. I would basically answer phones behind a desk in the nude for 35 dollars an hour. And Adam? I started to laugh and cry all at once, sitting at home by myself. Because I realized, that for a split microsecond, I was considering how much I could make working 40 hours a week with a 35/hour pay rate.
Adam: Just less than three times as much as I do. And I’m living fairly comfortably. What’s stopping you?
Me: I don’t know. The price of my dignity.
Adam: That’s roughly 70k a year, before taxes, by the way.
Me: Just… don’t.
Adam:Are you looking anywhere besides Craigslist? I applied to probably 40-50 places before I got one interview with a crazy cake-maker lady. From Craigslist, I mean.
Me:Well I haven’t really been able to find any job offerings that require a college degree and wearing clothes. But I’m gonna keep looking.

Adam: http://chicago.craigslist.org/chc/fbh/3360403672.html

$1,000/night is roughly $365,000/year.
Me:I am a college graduate. I shouldn’t have to sell my body, even in a place that call itself a “theatre!”

…Where can I apply?
Adam: You just did! You’re hired! By the way, when I told you Cody, Eric and I are starting a theatre company, that’s what I meant.
Adam: Other than the job thing, are you happy there?
Me: I’ve only been here for a few days without my mom here… which means other than job searching, I’ve watched 18 episodes of Pretty Little Liars and consumed Naked Juice.
Me: And some chili. And veggie stix. And sweet potato chips. I applied to universal today to be a “merchandise representative.” …I just want to sell wands in Harry Potter world and tell people I’m in Ravenclaw.
Adam: You don’t get to pick your school or tribe or whatever they call it.
Me: It’s called a house. And they could put me in Slytherin for all I care.
Adam: I hope if you get that, they put an actual hat on you that tells you what house you’re in.
Me: No one even cares anyway. No one even bothers to speak in English accents. They’re all just a bunch of jaded Floridians who are over their lives. They don’t even care that they’re working in the Three Broomsticks. And you don’t even know what Ravenclaw means, so you certainly don’t know what the Three Broomsticks means.
Adam: It’s the bar where they get their butter beer. …Or are you talking to “them?”
Me: I was talking to “you.”
Adam: Well, then “you” are wrong because “I” obviously do know what the Three Broomsticks is.
Me: Good for “you.”
Adam: I read 4 and 1/2 of them.
Me: Then you don’t know Snape’s true motives, and I’m ashamed to call you my friend.
Adam: He loved Harry’s mom and was only trying to protect him blahblahblahIsawthemovies.
Me: We can’t marry until you read the books. I’m sorry.
Adam: He got so whiny in the one with blue cover, though.
Me: UGH he did. That one was SO depressing.
Adam: I think that’s where/why I stopped.
Me: Inexcusable.
Adam: I think it’s a good excuse to stop reading a book if you stop liking the main character.
Me: Oh yeah? Well sometimes I think it’s a good idea to apply to a job that offers me 20 bucks an hour to film me getting pied in the face while wearing a bikini top. And then I rethink my opinions.
Adam: I’d do the nudist colony over that. You don’t want anything on film.
Me: Two words: security cameras. I’ve already thought about it.
Adam then made this for me, without photoshop. I don’t know how he did it:

“I want to swim in your irises. How about just ‘to swim in your irises'”

On The Road Again

2 Oct


Day 22 of the 90 in 90 blog challenge.

Well, dear readers, I am currently typing this from the road. I discovered that WordPress.com has a smart phone app, and that basically changed my life.

SO! I am on MYY WAYYY (“Violet” reference anyone? Okay…) to ORLANDOOOOO (“Book of Mormon” reference? Anyone???). Alright alright, enough with the musical theatre references. Anyway- we are somewhere in South Carolina right now. This trip has been quite uneventful. The picture at the top of this post is basically what I’ve been looking at for the past six hours. I have so much stuff piled in Dory that when we go over bumps she scrapes her steamy undercarriage, but other than that we have had no big disasters… knock on wood. The most interesting thing to happen thus far was passing a place called “Tudor’s Biscuit World” which I though sounded pretty regal and ridiculous.

I thought my audition for Disney was on Friday, but I double checked their website and now I’m auditioning on Thursday. I’m nervous. I’m excited. I’m scared they won’t need- or even worse, want- me. But I just keep telling myself that everything happens for a reason. If I don’t get cast, maybe it’s because God has a different plan for me. Maybe I need to find a job that can incorporate my love of writing…

Can someone just… Pay me to blog? Or write? Please? Anyone? Hello? Hello out there… If you’re a professional editor or person of literary merit, could you please contact me and pay me money to do what I love to do? Okay. Great. Thanks. Glad this was so easy for both of us.

So my mom is really sick right now with one seriously nasty head cold. She gets these sudden attacks where she can’t see anything because her eyes are watering so much. We’ve tried everything. DayQuil, allergy medicine, nose spray, and constant nose blowing. Nothing helps. EXCEPT… For eating. That’s right. Eating. Something about the constant swallowing or something, but that is the only thing that keeps her eyes from watering. So, as you can imagine, Momma Barry is SO sick of eating food, and I am SO sick of getting it out of bags for her…

Mom: Carolyn I gotta have something right now, Im starting to go downhill.
Me: (sighing) Okay well… What do you want? Another thing of Rollos?
Mom: (seriously sounding full) Ugh….
Me: Or, we have pretzels…
Mom: UGHH no they make my mouth dry!
Me: Okaaayyee… well what do you want?!
Mom: I guess… Just give me another tootsie pop…
(Keep in mind I have finally managed to arrange all of the items in the car wedged in and around my various body parts in order to become “comfortable.” Moving the GPS, two cell phones, a dayquil box, and two huge pillows off of my lap, I look down at the space for my leg room. I use the term “leg room” very loosely… The small space where my feet are currently residing is also home to Wendy’s bags full of giant salad containers, my huge gold purse, and an array of space-eating items, like my giant brontosaurus stuffed animal Monty. I rummage through the items. During this time the gps falls over [“RECALCULATING!”] the pillows somehow manage to smack me in the face, and one of the almost-empty Wendy’s salad containers pops open and drips dressing onto my hands. Finally, I triumphantly find the bag containing the snacks.)
Me: (Handing her a blue tootsie pop) Here.
Mom: Oh…
Me: What? It’s a tootsie pop. Here.
Mom: Um, I don’t like grape.
Mom: Can you get me a red one?
Mom: Please?! Come on, my eyes are closing and this is dangerous!!!

According to Patrick (the current ever-changing name of my GPS) we will be arriving at my sister’s apartment…( And I guess, MY apartment now, too!) at 10:19 p.m. We cannot drive fast enough.


Monty likes granola bars.

Do Not Read Until 9-14-2013

14 Sep

Day 4 of the 90 in 90 blog challenge.

Dear Year-From-Now-Me,

Hey girl, hey. First of all, step away from the pasta. I know you probably have some in your hands right now, and I’m gonna need you to “Just. Stop.” K great thanks.

Anyway, how are you doing? Any better than I am right now? I guess I’m writing to you because I want you to remember how scared you’re feeling right now, and I want you to be able to look back on this letter and laugh at yourself. I want you to be able to say, “What was I worried about? The fact that I’m moving to Orlando and I don’t have a job lined up yet?! I have an amazing job now, and I’m happy! I shouldn’t have spent so much of my time and energy worrying!” If you can say that, congratulations! You’re amazing! You’re incredible! I love you! Thank you for taking care of us!

If you can’t say that, I reiterate: Step away from the pasta, put down the bottle of wine, and go run 3 miles. Then start job searching, you loser.

I just came back from a trip to Muncie. The last trip there for… well, who knows how long, but I’m thinking a long time because I’m going to be in Orlando. It felt really great to see everyone again, to know that I’m just as important to the people I’ve left behind as they are to me. Sometimes, you don’t realize the impact you have on other people. It’s nice to be reminded of that. And it’s also nice to be reminded of just how much those people have impacted you. So, I guess what I’m wanting you to do is think about who you are impacting now, and who you are letting impact you. And then remind yourself just how blessed you are to have those people in your life. Don’t take them for granted.

Also, if you haven’t gotten your tonsils out yet, would you (once again) Just. Stop. being a scared little wimp and schedule the appointment? The golf ball sized things aren’t going to go away on their own, you know? C’mon. Singers get their tonsils out all the time. What are you so afraid of?

It’s weird to think that when you read this, you’re going to have all of the answers that I want right now… “Where will I work?” “What will I do if I don’t get hired?” “Will I miss snow?” “Are you dating anyone? Do you even care about that in your life?” “Are you happy?” “What do you do on your time off?” “Have you started the novel you want to write?”

Then again, I guess I wouldn’t want all of the answers right now, you know? Being young and unemployed is something everyone has to go through. I guess knowing all of the answers would take away from the terrifying excitement of it all. Also, right now I know you’re probably smiling reading this, doing that thing where you pinch-fold your bottom lip between your pointer finger and thumb. Stop that. You can smile, but the pinch-and-fold-the-bottom-lip-thing has got to go. You look stupid when you do that. Remember when you caught yourself doing it in the reflection of the giant window in the library on campus? Yeah. Not cute.

Well year-from-now-me, I guess that’s it. Thanks for listening. OH! And if you haven’t been running, go running, okay? You’re happier when you work out. Call your mother more often, too. And if Caitlyn has been borrowing your clothes, don’t get too mad at her. She’s your sister, it’s kind of her job. And that’s one of the things you were most excited about, remember? Now, if that skinny whore is taking your shit and not giving it back and spilling low-cal oxygen-induced accai essence juice on it or something, you claim back that top faster than she can say “But… You’re not even wearing it!” There’s only so much you can take, you know?