by | August 22, 2011 · 8:45 am

This is What Depression Looks Like

And only this remains...

So, the movers came on Saturday, and what I thought was going to be a fun little “live on an aerobed in your living room and rough it” kind of week has turned out to be more similar to what I can only assume were Ernest Hemingway’s last days.

Discarded clothes? Check. Tub of coffee? Check. Thousand-page novel? Check. Remote controls? Check, check. Apparently I have everything I need. However, it’s about 8,000 degrees in my apartment, I spent the majority of my time Sunday laying down because I have no furniture that allows me to sit upright, and I’ve seen the Khloe and Lamar Wedding episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians three times in the past 24 hours.

Basically what I’m trying to say is that if you’re looking for me at any point this week, I’ll be at Mary Ann’s. They at least have bar stools.

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by | August 19, 2011 · 9:27 am

How Did I Miss This Commercial?

It’s two years old! But still amazing. Alright, Arnold. Let’s put some liquor in those glasses and make some John Daly’s!

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by | August 18, 2011 · 9:17 am

Sometimes Emergency Phone Calls are Actually about the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills

Everyone in my family knows not to call me. I rarely pick up the phone, and I never listen to voicemails. In fact, my voicemail box is currently full. Text messages and emails are definitely the best way to reach me. Unless it’s an emergency. And everyone knows that emergencies only occur late at night and early in the morning.

So when I got out of the shower this morning and saw that I had a missed call and voicemail from my parents’ house, I immediately feared the worst. “Please don’t let it be another death,” I thought to myself, because God knows we’ve had enough of those in the past few years. “Mom’s stomach was upset last night,” I worried. “She might be in the hospital.” Or, “maybe Dad actually went into some kind of Cheez-It induced coma.” Whyyyyyyyy were they calling me so early? It doesn’t help that Blackberries notify you in 18 different ways that you have a missed call. It’s very alarming. I gathered all my strength and dialed them back. Mom answered and immediately started talking:

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