In Other News...

How is it that our society still struggles to agree that rape is bad and yet we’re all so collectively accepting of the fact that we call our littlest finger a “pinky?”

That feeling when you like a guy who doesn’t use social media and have to resort to stalking his monetary transactions on Venmo. 

Is it possible to swallow without a tongue?

For some reason, whenever people enter my office at work, they feel some immediate compulsion to inform me about the smell and temperature of my workspace.  Granted, when I’m in my office all day, I don’t notice those subtle differences, but at the same time, it’s hard not to feel offended when a parent strides in and announces that my office smells like a hamster cage.  What am I supposed to do with that information?

According to one of the newer episodes of the Invisibilia podcast, there is a legitimate dating website/app called settleforlove.com, exactly as sad as it sounds.  According to the website, “Online dating shouldn't be about "selling yourself" it should be about "being yourself." Our users post good pictures & bad pictures, discuss their pros & cons, as well as discuss what they "Would Settle For" in a partner.”  What would I say for my profile? 

•  Pros: notices when people get haircuts; can figure out military time (if it’s quiet and no one is talking)
• Cons: takes really expensive naps at movies and concerts; gets things out of the fridge and forgets to put them back in before leaving the house
• Would settle for: a 41-year old if he writes me into his will

I’m taking this out of context, but the other day someone told me I reminded them of a monkey in a zoo, and it was intended to be a compliment.

As much as I would like to live alone in my own apartment one day, I would then have to adjust to the fact that not having a roommate also means that she can’t surprise me by secretly emptying the dishwasher.

At the grocery store today, I picked out some chicken and tossed it in my cart.  An older gentleman walked by, motioned towards the chicken and asked, "Shopping for one?" I glared at him. "Me too!" he chuckled amiably.  Maybe he will write me into his will? 

The closet rods in my bedroom closet have broken THREE times in the last three weeks and there is currently a cricket loose under my bed somewhere.  Why do bad things happen to good people.   

 (Except for this. The Mona Lisa Pumpkin was a good thing I did.)