So, my dad got a tattoo…for me. 😍 #birthdate #hellfrozeover #flabbergasted #familyink #sohonored #bestdad

Chapstick game: on point. #goingtothedessert #alreadyshippedmore

Get it, bee!!! GET. IT. #literallthumpingthisflowerrightnow #feellikeimintruding

Whenever my period comes unexpectedly I always feel like a detective uncovering the clues left by every slight symptom for the last 24 hours. 

"Ah, yes," I say, tapping my pencil on the brim of my old-timer detective’s hat, "it’s all so clear now. It was so obvious."

It’s all actually just a way to justify all the snacks I had last night. SURE, brain. Sure. 

Like that was soooo different from every other night. 


I’m an oversharer. I only censor to protect others from my tmi tendencies. I’d tell you almost anything if I thought you could handle it. 

BUT - I keep my oversharing centered on myself. I would NEVER overshare about my partner. 

But MY partner doesn’t seem to understand that there are certain things that I may say to him that are not meant to be repeated. 

Like the time we were at an Upper West Side baby shower - all pink and frills and cupcakes - and the mother-to-be was in head-to-toe New York black. I joked with him about the contrast of this image and told him that some people think it’s bad luck to wear black to stuff parties like this. 

Which he then told the mother-to-be. 

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And I got totally chewed out by another guest for it. 

This morning is his last session with his trainer of 8 weeks. He asked if I saw a difference and I told him while I did and he looked great, that I don’t think his trainer pushes him hard enough. 

Annnnd they came back in the house after the session with the trainer offended and my boyfriend shouting “Eddie’s mad at you!” like a kid who told on his sister. 


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SERIOUSLY?!?!

How hard is it to figure out that some things I say aren’t meant to be shared??? I shouldn’t have to explain that if I say something somewhat negative about someone that he shouldn’t parrot it back to them. 

He said “It’s just Eddie! It was funny!” 

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Yeah. For YOU. Now I’m the bitch who thinks he’s a bad trainer. 

He’ll never learn, man. 

No explanation needed.

Tide is high and oh god help us. #stormsacomin

Taping them up was both terrifying and a relief. Get to California safely, little guys!

This is the fanciest thing I will ever drink out of. #burningman #fancyrubberizedpackaging #youreabadparentifyourkiddoesnthavethis

The dude spends a lot of time on the line with customer service, since his gadgets are his life and something or another is always breaking. 

Whether he’s calling for his company or just for himself, he uses very business-y language to speed things up. Like “mission critical” and “dead in the water.” Even when it’s just him and his toy. He sounds so angry and insistent. But if our eyes meet while I’m nearby he breaks into a big smile. 

It’s all a front for better service. People wanna help if you’re invested. Or want you off the phone when you’re angry? 

I’m much more of a be-nice-and-sound-pathetic sort of person. I try to make friends and sound much more exasperated and disheartened than angry. 

Yesterday on the phone with USPS me and my helper guy were having a grand old time while filing a claim for my lost package. He told me stories and teased me for my crazy summer-long vacation. 

We both get it done in our own way. All I know is hearing his super surrious business jargon always makes me laugh. He sounds like he’s in mission control in an action movie.