Sunday, August 30, 2020

I Don’t Like Your Mom (Confronting My Own Defensiveness)

          

            Sometimes, just sometimes, she gets on my nerves. It can irritate me to the point of shifting in my chair, looking around the room, fantasizing about escaping with the excuse of heading “to the bathroom”, but please know that I haven’t yet made that escape during a visit because I realize that this other person isn’t at fault entirely, if at all.

            (Oh! That’s right, I’m sorry, I forgot – My friend’s name is Meaghan and we’re gonna call her mom Lena.)

            Lena seems to me like she’s quite confident, which has to be a key part of her close, special friendship with her daughter, but I personally find her to be a little too pushy. It’s understandable that if you combine this with other details, Lena and I are just very different people who would not associate if it weren’t for the wonderfully nerdy Meaghan, and we only see each other every once in a while, anyway, so when Lena pisses me off, I have more than one reason for keeping my mouth shut, and instead of being immature, overreacting and blaming her, I remind myself to accept the challenge that these moments present.

Sunday, August 9, 2020

A Later Sunday: Anti-Climactic Next Chapter in a Move

      Previously on…

      I started writing a book of essays. Later, I made out with Kim Kardashian, saw Santa and ate paste, all within dreams. There began a phase of increased creativity and Pilates. I announced on this small blog that I would be apartment-hunting. My chocolate Labrador friend Pluto seems to have a crush on me while I have a crush on a being who’s over 600 years old. Also, I'll talk briefly about how I communicated with a plant.


Tuesday, August 4, 2020

Men in Black Don't Have Beards

     

Worst headache of my life happened when I awakened somewhere within the compound at Area 51. Obviously, I escaped with my life, never got my ship back.

Some men don't like it if you try to braid their large beard and hang ornaments in it. That's a shame, right?

I passed out on the bathroom floor at Dan Harmon’s house.