“Follow the yellow brick road.
Follow the yellow brick road.
Follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow the yellow brick road!”
What’s more beautiful than freshly fallen snow? I love the crunch under my boots and the fresh, crisp air in the still early morning as I walk to work. Continue reading
While my blog is generally a happy place, let me just state for the record that my perpetually single life isn’t always a series of funny missteps and situations that end with me shrugging and winking to a camera that isn’t there. I won’t lie. It’s tough out there for us singletons. Continue reading
About a week and a half ago, an incident filled me with so much rage that it has taken me this long to be able to calm down and write about it. Any earlier, and this post would have been filled with c-bombs.
As you might already know if you’ve read a few of my posts, I live in a pretty small apartment (for a layout of my rockin’ bachelor pad, check out The Postman Screws Me Twice). Sometimes, I vacuum said apartment. It probably takes me a good two minutes to do it. Three, if I ate crackers that week. Continue reading
Just when I thought my escapades with mail delivery couldn’t get any more pathetic, it got physical.
This situation I found myself in reminds me of a Seinfeld episode–how something that happens at the beginning of the episode often comes back as the punch line at the end. For example, Kramer hitting golf balls into the ocean and then George, a “marine biologist,” later pulling an obstruction from a beached whale. “Is that a Titlest?” (George telling the story of his heroic rescue is incidentally my absolute favourite Seinfeld, or dare I say, television, moment… “The sea was angry that day, my friends. Like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli.” Kills me every time.)
To: My most esteemed and obviously vastly intelligent readers
From: Lauren aka theVERYsinglegirl
Date: Wednesday, July 18, 2012.
RE: Comment Conundrum
In case you haven’t noticed, I can be a bit neurotic (no, no, stop it, stop it, it’s true), though I prefer the term “quirky” (sounds less like a scientific diagnosis). I tend to overthink things and care about the tiniest little details when meanwhile, no sane person even notices. I think you also call that self-centred. For example, I refuse to wear the same thing to work in the same week, even if it’s Monday and Friday, because I think people will notice. But ask me if I notice what other people wear? Nope. Self-centred. Continue reading
Updated disclaimer: Of course this would happen–approximately one week after I posted this rant, Alex Trebek suffered a heart attack. When my friend told me this, I said, “because he read my blog?” For the record, I had NOTHING to do with it.
Disclaimer: Despite this post being filed under “theVERYsingle hit list of people who should be shot,” I will state for the record that I do not actually want to fire a gun at or intend harm to the person named in this post. Continue reading