Monthly Archive:: September 2012

Don’t judge a book by it’s…shoes?

This past week I have been checked out EVERY time I’ve worked out. Like stared down. At the Gym. At Bootcamp. At Runyon Canyon. Kathy Griffin strolled right past us on that more-social-than-struggle of a mountain, but

facebook me maybe?

Last night a boy gave me his digits. I like to say “digits.” It makes me sound hip. Young. When my niece and nephew lived with me I caught on to all the cool new lingo. When

you’re wearing that to the gym?

Here’s something I’ve never quite grasped. Dressing for the gym. We’ll just get this out of the way right now: the fact that I can even dress myself without being mistaken for a homeless man is remarkable.

does the starbucks lady think i’m a douche?

“Hi. I’d like a Venti Iced Mocha. With Skim Milk. With an addshot. With only two squirts of chocolate. Please.” My stomach turns every single time I order.