Bullet Points Episode 2

1. Yesterday I totally could've stolen a piece of candy from the 300 lbs of Halloween leftovers that were donated to Packages From Home from this one church, but I didn't. And today I totally could've stolen these socks from Payless because it took me 10 minutes to find a sales associate to cash me out, but I didn't. I just want you to know how much of a thief I'm NOT , and also how much I suffer for it.

2. This one fashion blog I follow is totally hilarious, though it offers no fashion advice to me personally that is in any way translatable to real life, being That which is lived Not on a Patio of a Tribeca Loft in perpetual summertime. Anywhoo today she was wearing a half-shirt (really just sleeves and a collar) that was of the pineapple patterned variety, and I was just like, girl, when does it stop being about your sartorial conquests and more about what's going on upstairs? I bet if she read that I wrote that, she's reply with "YEAH that means I succeeded!" but she'd know that no one knew what she meant, not even her, and then she's eat some girl scout cookies to be ironic or something. I'd still have a major crush on her.

3. I think that what people really really want most in life is for something terrible to happen to someone else that they can blame on other people. I really mean that. Watch any political conversation, MTV-based reality show or Clorox commercial and you'll know what I'm talking about. We're a sick bunch, human race.

4. Do you ever haunt yourself with unfortunate images? Sometimes I am so bombarded by these things I saw that I wish I didn't; always at an almost humorously inopportune time, like when I'm eating mashed potatoes or something. Images include - that one lady who got her face ripped off by a monkey and than sewed back on by someone I can only assume had a blood relation to Dr. Frakenstein (HE was the doctor! High School English Success!), also the time I found puke on the pavement outside St. Mary's when I was 8 and thought it was chicken and dumplings, and then, you know, Nancy Pelosi. Why does my mind do this to me?

This has totally been like that episode of Magic School Bus where they go inside that one kids' body, except you were inside the brain of a conservatively manic blonde.

Gross

There's this dude who is always pacing outside of our office. Have I mentioned how much I love that I sit in front of a big glass door and windows? ANYWAY.

I love sitting in front of windows, but then, there's the Pacing Dude. He is strange looking, always has a Mr. Grumpy look on his face and one time he was backing out of a parking space and didn't see me coming in my car, so I had to wait for a million hours and that's when he lost any opportunity to be a cool person in my life.

So yesterday I was walking out to my car for a lunch break and he was, you know, pacing outside. This was the first time I'd ever actually run into him, and he looked up and said "HI!" and gave this huge smile. And I'm not kidding, upon seeing the smile, I thought he was a different dude. It changed his whole face.

After recovering from my shock, I thought - aww, Maria, what a great metaphor for life. Everything is so different when we smile, we look different, we see life differently, birds fly higher and the sun shines brighter. But then I immediately thought ew, that is disgusting, how could I even entertain the thought of writing that?

Dear Fashion

The thing is, tea length skirts make me go from a mammoth 5'2" to like, 3'. I just can't; I'm sorry.

Weekly Don't Do It

Don't tell someone that you run into on a hiking trail that they are "wearing the wrong shoes for this kind of trail." Unless you have $90 that you'd like to give her for the high tech, over-hyped hiking boots you would find appropriate for "this kind of trail." Or unless you DO feel like getting popped in the nose with a very strong, albeit slippery, sole of a tennis shoe.

Filter it, dude. You'll get there.

Weekly Don't Do It

Don't park your car in the sun in Arizona while you go into the coffee shop for your lunch break, and then when you get back into the car, and the scorching heat of your driver's seat sears into your lovely behind parts, don't yell, "HOT BUTT!"

Because you left your window down, and that guy who sits at that one table outside every day just heard you. And now he probably thinks you're friends or something.

Weekly Don't Do It

Self-portrait of you looking in a mirror. It makes us all very sad.

Weekly Don't Do It

Feathered bangs. Off limits.