The girl who just can't play it cool

“It’s all downhill from here”? I realized a little while ago this one phrase has opposite meanings, based on the context it’s used.

It can mean “Hey, things are about to get a lot easier.” As in, “I finally got my dress, now it’ll all be downhill from here.”

Or, it can mean “Hey, things are about to get a lot worse.” As in, “My only hair tie snapped on my run; it’s going to go downhill from here.”

Why you do dat, English, why? I want everyone to love you as much as I do, but when you contradict yourself so blatantly, it makes things really difficult and I have a hard time defending you. English is the bad boy of languages. No regard for the rules.

what I actually eat in a week, or if it’s just what I can carry home in one trip.

As soon as my basket gets heavy, I gotta check out. Any extraneous items get left behind.

…But maybe just one more?

Jess. Don’t do this to yourself. Put down the artichoke hearts. You do not need them. Don’t you dare try to sneak them into the basket. I can see you. I AM you. You will pay for it later on the 25-minute walk home. Don’t do this to yourself, please. You know better.

Fine. You know who’s to blame. Don’t whine when your fingers are pinching with pain and you’re making weird faces on the walk home.

I know. I know what you’re going to say. Jess, just buy one of those little fabric shopping carts with the wheels on them. Then you can just drag everything home.

NO.

I will die before I buy one of those. I just can’t. I know I’m not a vain person, so I can have this one thing. It’s already so hard to meet a man. I have no proof of this, but I just assume that one of those little shopping carts is an instant boner killer. I know it is for me. I refuse.

I am a lean, mean, grocery-carrying machine, even if I’m constantly trying to sabotage myself.

I was headed west. I only had a few stops to go. The subway car was pretty empty. I sat down on one of those two seaters by the window and stretched out my legs. I realized too late this put me directly across from someone also sitting on one of those two seaters by the window. We kept making awkward eye contact and then we’d both quickly look away. Rinse and repeat. Our subway car got more and more empty. We were almost at the next stop; the second last stop on the line. He stood up. We were in the station now. He walked towards the doors in between our seats. He grasped the pole. We looked at each other again.

“Nice pants.”

And he walked off.

I wonder what he’d think. I personally feel like he would not give a shit, because he’d be too busy BEING THE SMARTEST MAN ON EARTH.

And I know that seems insanely trivial. That’s because it is. AND YET. I can’t help but be incredibly bothered by this. I am cursed with two ‘S’ssssssssss in my name. As soon as I have perfected the first ‘S’, I have to do it all again. It goes in, then out, then in again?!?! Or is it out?!?! I can’t take it.

I just get psyched out. It’s like spelling the word ‘psyched’. I think I have it and then I don’t. I very clearly don’t. I’m pretty sure I have it going the right way, and then all of a sudden I have a Z or the number 2 or a giant C, instead of an S.  S’ssssssss require a significant amount of planning and spatial awareness, which I deeply lack. Maybe I thought I would magically get better at this as I got older, but as usual, nothing comes naturally to me. I can’t eyeball shit. I just gotta do it and hope for the best…Plunge into the unknown that is that blank space and fill it up with the two best S’sssss I can create in the moment.

I wish I could just shorten my name and exclude them from it but they’re a critical part of the show. They’re half of my name. So I’m doomed to a life of wonky S’sssssss. A lot of care and attention is needed in order to make them look just even passable as the letter S. Otherwise they just end up looking like shrunken angry old men, glaring at me, wondering why I didn’t leave them enough room and instead wedged their bellies against the edge of the frame. I fucking tried man.

I’ve got speed, just not accuracy. I think I have it, every time, but I never ever do. Ever.  And i just look down and sigh because I’m so resigned to this. I think I might seriously change my mind about which superpower I would want most. You know how much time I could save myself getting dressed in the morning?  It takes me three times as long to properly put on a sweater with buttons than it does just a normal no-button low-maintenance sweater.

There is no word in the English language that rhymes with the word “month”. Obviously, a well-known fact.

Until now.

In ‘Blank Space‘ T Swift sings: “Find out what you want/ Be that girl for a month”.

Taylor Swift is all powerful and all-knowing. I know she’s right, I’m just not sure if I’ve been mispronouncing ‘want’ my whole life, or ‘month’.

These are two beautiful and magical words that will help you out in an argument, every single time. It’s like an eject button on an argument. If you don’t want to argue any more and just want to get out of the situation immediately, just say these two words and BOOM, you’re out. No one can argue with you if you tell them they’re right. That’s all anyone wants to hear, ever.

I ate half a Deep ‘n Delicious for breakfast today. The heart wants what the heart wants.