Tag Archives: all of my friends are prettier than i am

Hamptons Photodump!

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No, we actually did go to the Hamptons. And here are the pictures to prove it:

[svgallery name=”hamptons”]

Most of these were taken by my friend Anthony, who I want to be when I grow up. He took more than 1000 photos during the trip, if that’s any indication of what a good time we had. The pictures of us playing drunken Cranium (which I don’t even like) for five hours every night have been omitted. As have the pictures of me crying for another five hours after I fell down Rollerblading.

Ohio Weekend Photodump!

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My second-cousin Keith got an elbow to the stomach from his new bride, Rachael. Their wedding photographer only seemed to be taking super-serious photos, so I felt self-righteous about this one.


But then Keith made the photographer let the groomsmen pose for this picture, and all was right with the world again.


My cousin, Bethany, and my sister, Joanie, were in attendance and looking as stunning/ridiculous as ever.


I attempted to teach my 85-year-old great-uncle to use the laptop I bought him while my best friend, Tracey explained the Internet to my great-aunt:

Tracey: You can use Google to search for anything!
Crazy Aunt Dorothy: Oh, we don’t want that.
Tracey: It’s just a website you go to if you want to look something up.
Crazy Aunt Dorothy: We don’t really need the Internet. Just take us to that Circleville Pumpkin Show website.
Tracey: Uhh . . .


Tracey took me to a movie at the indie theatre in Columbus, the Drexel, and the ceiling fan vent looked like giant-sized art to us. But maybe that’s because it was midnight and we were running on five hours of sleep.


Tracey’s cat is a wild animal. I go home to visit pets as much as people these days because I like her cats so much. Except when I wake up on her couch in the middle of the night to see one of them flying over my head with his claws outstretched as he jumps from armrest to armrest.

I also went to an 80s dance party, ate the Splenda cheesecake at Cheesecake Factory for the first time, visited my friend Katie and was forced to hold her six-day-old baby (Evelyn) but did not drop her, went to visit my cousin Ethan and his six-day-old baby (Kaydence) and used my newfound not-dropping-baby skills to also hold her, celebrated my sister’s birthday with our parents and her husband, and explained to my parents that the smoke monster in “Lost” makes the same sound that a taxicab’s meter does.

I really, really love going home.

Auf Wiedersehen, Jessica! Hallo, Drunk Katie!

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My favouritest German intern of all time, Jessica, recently came back into town after being back home in Düsseldorf for nine months. In honor of her visit–and because she bugs me about it at least once a week–here are the greatest photos from the night we said goodbye:


I like how Beth apparently had no idea that this was supposed to be a funny picture
and not a try-out for “America’s Next Top Model”.


These are funny because I’m, like, the not-drunk-est person everyone knows.


Please notice Anthony’s face in the background.


I don’t remember why this was being done, but I do know it was offensive.


We all rode the bull. It cost $15. Someone paid for me, because that’s how I roll.
I broke my thumbnail on it.


Sonya puts this much feeling into literally everything she sings. This was probably “Barbie Girl”, Jessica’s absolute favourite song to do at karaoke. She likes to sing the boy part even though she’s the girliest girl you’ll ever meet.


Classy.

Move back soon, mama.

Fetuses are Still Freaky

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Barefoot Katie with Maria – 9/21/08

My second-best friend back in Ohio, Katie, is expecting her second baby in 7 weeks. Considering that I like her firstborn more than most adults, which is really saying something for a girl with an I ♥ Abortions t-shirt, I’m pretty pumped about the idea of another one running around.

Do not take this to mean I’m getting soft.

Why does a well-tied tie only earn respect for men?

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My friend Chantee instant messaged me Wednesday morning about a fondling she received at the Hoyt-Schermerhorn subway station that night on her way home. We had been bowling with friends at Port Authority until well into the night, and Chantee is a classy lady, so she had worn a white button-down shirt with a grey patterned tie and was lookin’ good.

She took the A train to Hoyt-Schermerhorn after we finished our last incredibly low-scoring game, and as she was waiting for the G, an MTA night worker strolled by her on the platform and said, “Hey, beautiful.” Now, Chantee is a lovely lady with assets that are taken note of on an hourly–no, secondly–basis, so this sort of thing is old hat for her. She smiled politely and kept watching for the train, thinking that she hadn’t inadvertently issued any invitations for rape. She was wrong.

Read the rest here.