X-Post Facebook Pt. 3

February 22nd, 2018:

My besties and me, sipping margaritas, checking out a group of dudes. They keep looking over at us, we’re looking coyly at them. Suddenly they start chanting something dumb like a group of frat bros. One of them looks back over at us, and in apparent slow motion, stares straight at my mouth exactly as I’m saying “...Nevermind.” #thisis29

February 26th, 2018:

New Doctor: “you look very tough. Do you lift weights and how often do you poop?” Excellent questions, this is already the best first date I’ve been on in a while!

March 7th 2018:

My roommate never curses and always says things like “trash monster” and “pooper snoodle” in place of vulgar language. It’s sweet and it’s really rubbed off on me, so now I’m always saying things like, “fucking trash monster” and “piece of shit pooper snoodle.” #compromise #goodinfluence

March 19th 2018:

The elevator opens to five middle-aged women in an obviously heated conversation. An awkward hush of squelched diatribes falls over them as they see me waiting to enter.

I step into the lift timidly, press my number, and then face the doors as they close, with the women lining the elevator behind me, my back exposed to danger. I swallow hard and hope to become invisible.

I can feel them vibrating with unspoken thoughts, thoughts that are ricocheting off of the walls and my body like bullets. Finally the women can’t stand it anymore.

Very carefully one of them oozes out, sort of under her breath, “Well....She can think what she wants to think...is all I’ll say.” “I know what she knows...and it’s not going to help her this time.” “She just better watch who she talks to...but that’s just my two cents.”

Right then, mercifully, the doors open on my floor. Shoulders back, I step confidently into the lobby and try not to be too obvious that I am absolutely fleeing to safety.

I noticed they were continuing down to the deepest level of the building’s basement; the underbelly.

NEVER show weakness to the NatGeo female mafia, and don’t get in their way.

March 28th 2018:

I think the fact that not a single person in my office even batted an eye as I carefully washed and dried eight rubber ducks, of various sizes, in the kitchen sink, is a testament that I’m working in the right place.

April 10th 2018:

I love how I can go out of my way to “casually” walk by each of my two office crushes daily and neither of them ever even notices me, but OooOOoOooooh the ONE day I’m dumpster diving in every recycling bin in the office on a desperate quest for plastic bottles as props for a shoot, the pair of them are walking past me over and over like goddamn Sherlock and Watson determined to solve the case of The Girl of the Dumpstervilles.

April 11th 2018:

Not Having a Panic Attack When the Mountain of Beads Around Your Neck is Suddenly Compressing Your Chest so Much That You’re Having Trouble Breathing and Then Still Not Crying When You Flip Your Head Over to Dump the Beads on the Floor But They All Get Stuck On Various Parts of Your Face So the Whole Mess is Just Dragging You Head First to Hades and You Think This Will be How You Leave This World: A Louisiana Coming-of-Age Story #memoirtitle

April 17th 2018:

I just found out a paper my boss had me write on wetlands and Louisiana land loss as a side project 4-6 years ago (during my first real job out of college!) is now required curriculum/source material for 3rd-graders in the state of Louisiana.

That’s right Louisiana, I’m up here trying to keep my weird-ass friends from licking my face in bars AND EDUCATING YOUR YOUTH SIMULTANEOUSLY.

April 30th 2018:

Had a minor procedure this morning and during prep the heart monitor was constantly alerting that my BPM was dipping down between 45-50. That's normal for me and runs in my family (my dad's heart beats like once a minute). The anesthesiologist said, “Yeah no worries, the monitor doesn’t take kindly to athletic people, you must have a strong heart.”

HECK YES I HAVE A STRONG HEART, IT’S BEEN SHATTERED A FEW TIMES RECENTLY BUT IT’S A WARRIOR AND NOW IT'S HELD TOGETHER BY GORILLA GLUE AND WE'LL KEEP ON FIGHTING, THANK YOU FOR NOTICING

May 24 2018:

My cousin comes to visit: Him: So what are we doing Friday? Me: Let me consult the itinerary. Him: We don’t have to follow the itinera— Me: WE WILL NOT BE STRAYING FROM THE ITINERARY

June 6th 2018:

When I received the tip that the 3rd Floor bananas were being restocked and I teleported into the office kitchen approximately 0.246 seconds later, the guy who restocks the fruit just straight up put three bananas in my hands, said, “we did this for you,” and continued his work. So that’s how annoying I am, if anyone was wondering.

June 12th 2018:

If you pass me on the street with a backward-facing stroller I’m going to turn around and look at your baby, and that’s your fault. Don’t make this weird. What are you hiding? Mystery Baby must be solved.

June 19th 2018:

My roommate woke up at 2:00 AM to a roach crawling on her face, so I woke up at 2:00 AM to my roommate waking up to a roach crawling on her face. We both stood in her room whimpering for a while, she found it, we captured it, and I smashed it, so we’re now accepting formal requests to be on your post-apocalypse zombie-hunting teams, as that kind of murder teamwork will be vital in the Dark Days.

June 25th 2018:

LOL @ the woman in Trader Joe’s who tried to show the guy in charge of the wine samples her ID, but before she could get it out he said, “Nah, I’ve seen your ID enough times.” #samplefiend #mamaneedsherwineshots

June 28th 2018:

Just spent HOURS at Happy Hour with all 40 of my coworkers, and NOT A SINGLE ONE OF THEM told me I had a bushel of arugula nestled in between my two front teeth. Better throw me 40 Arugula Last Suppers, WHOLE TEAM FULL OF JUDASES

July 12th 2018:

A cashier was rude to me this morning so I was gonna make a point to NOT say “thank you” to her and really show her what was what, but just as I was giving myself a mental pat-on-the-back for my resolve and fortitude, before I even knew what was happening, I subconsciously blurted out, “Thank you!” ANYWAY!!!! THANKS PARENTS, for ingraining manners into me so hard that I can’t even REVOLT. #outraged #enraged #ratinacage

July 22nd 2018:

I love when you’re cracking up with your friend in the back of an Uber, trapped in the clutches of your unstoppable and irrepressible giggles, and when the driver says bye you can hear in his voice that he’s been laughing too. Joy is contagious!

July 24th 2018:

Why am I like this?

#whyimsingle #yearofthesnake #livingmybestsnakelife#butonlythebigbootydeer

July 30th 2018:

Had a first date tonight and the guy ordered ROASTED PEPPERS ONLY and his breath BURNED MY EYEBALLS for the whole date. ...WE WERE TALKING ABOUT ANTHONY BOURDAIN AND HE THOUGHT THE CONVERSATION WAS MAKING ME EMOTIONAL SO HE KEPT GETTING CLOSER TO ME #stillcrying #whatisthiscity #whyamibeingpunished #toohotdate

August 4th 2018:

Nothing like getting back into the car after you and your friends go to the beach to show you how your parents scarred each of you in separate but equal ways about not getting sand in the car.

August 9th 2018:

I’m standing on a corner waiting for my friend to pick me up, and a man is riding a motorized scooter up and down the street, pointedly dinging his scooter bell and winking at me each time he passes. I think I might be engaged now.

August 15th 2018:

A jolly van with “Children’s Bloodmobile” written on the side and cartoon characters all over it just sped past me without even slowing down.

How rude!

As if there’s no way I could *possibly* be someone who *might* enjoy a refreshing cup of youth-restoring children’s blood on a hot day like this? Outright discrimination.

August 24th 2018:

There’s a guy in this bar covered in glitter and he’s making best friends with everyone, and everyone wants glitter as well, so he’s rubbing his face on everyone and then we’re all rubbing our faces on each other to transfer the glitter, and I really hate the fundamental teachings of the book, but THIS IS REAL LIFE RAINBOW FISH UP IN HERE

August 26th 2018:

Leaving Dunkin Donuts with a huge box of cold brew for our shoot tomorrow, a guy in the shop holds the door open for me. As I’m exiting, a group of girls is walking past the store and the guy holding the door says, “y’all ladies coming in?” They straight up started yelling, “NAH! HELL NAH! DO I LOOK LIKE A DUNKIN DONUTS BITCH TO YOU?! DO I LOOK LIKE A DUNKIN DONUTS BITCH??!”

......I guess I am a Dunkin Donuts Bitch.

September 9th 2018:

Meet me at the bottom of the stairs, next to the fairy lights, I’ve been smuggling cocktail meatballs in my bra all night so I hope you’re ready for a feast.

September 10th 2018:

The number of random men in the club who express disappointment that they can’t grind with me on the dance floor because I’m wearing a backpack MEANS IT’S WORKING #BACKPACKITUPBUCKO

September 12th 2018:

Today a visibly frazzled mom sat on the bus with her baby in a chest carrier and started digging through the diaper bag on her lap. Sweating and panting, she kept trying to pull things out of the bag, only to have her baby silently and deliberately cling onto every single thing she grabbed and slap it back down into the bag. I could straight up hear the mom thinking, “Oh my GOD I’m doing this FOR YOOOOOU.”

Mommas and Papas, I appreciate you.

September 21st 2018:

If you don’t burn the shit out of yourself with the hot glue gun at least once, every time you craft, so badly that it blisters, do you even craft? #hardcorecrafting

September 26th 2018:

Last night I had drinks with a man who nonchalantly started pouring water into his beer until I finally swallowed my bile enough to ask him what the hell he was doing. THAT’S IT. I’M DONE. I’M NOTIFYING THE CDC. THE ENTIRE POPULATION OF THIS CITY HAS A PLAGUE

October 15th 2018:

Trying to find my roommate in a crowd: Me: “We’re standing outside of Smith Commons sort of across from Popeye’s.

Her: “okay I’m right there next to the white dog.” Me: “The white dog?! That is NOT a landmark, how the heck am I supposed to—OMG LOOK AT THE FRIKKIN CUTE-ASS WHITE DOGGGGG!”

October 24th 2018:

This morning I thought I saw the glimmer of a six-pack so I had to destroy it immediately with a cupcake, bucket of popcorn, wine, beer, and a cookie as big as my face. #livetoeat #whyismyofficeafratparty

November 3rd 2018:

Having a cat is just a suspicious ankle-wind you convince yourself you imagined and then suddenly teeth.

November 9th 2018:

You know, Static Cling didn’t HAVE to go so hard on making sure that when I took my coat off in the office this morning my dress would be up around my waist, completely exposing my entire buttocks to any nearby coworkers. But it did. Static Cling did that, because Static Cling is the pervy embodiment of the antichrist.

November 14th 2018:

Our cat lays on the pile of umbrellas by our door like a dragon on a pile of treasure, lolling about on them like he’s waiting for one of us to serve him mice-by-the-tail to the “swish-swish” symphony of lazy fur on plastic. So we knew that he loved them, coveted them, maybe even counted and kept tabs on them. But only when we cleaned up the umbrella pile tonight in preparation for tomorrow’s storm, haphazardly leaving naught but a lonely umbrella sheath behind, and the cat hunched down on top of that sheath ferally, protectively, as if his kingdom had fallen but he would die for the ashes, did we realize—despite all the soft, cushy, and furry surfaces we arrange and fluff for him in desperation for his utmost comfort—the full depth of his affection for our umbrellas. Or should I say...his umbrellas. Guess who will probably be receiving a bulk shipment of umbrellas in about two days time.

November 21st 2018:

Good God the Great British Baking Show competition music now plays in my head when I’m rushing to meet a deadline at work. YES MY PASTY WILL PROBABLY BE TOO CLAGGY, PAUL

November 21st 2018:

I was frowning at the flights board for a few minutes, looking for my gate, when a rotund man in a red suit walked up to me, and with a twinkle in his eye, chuckled, “Can’t find your flight, can you?”

“No...I can’t...” I whispered. Time stopped. I heard the tinkle of magic Christmas bells somewhere off in the distance. I caught a waft of cinnamon in the air. Warmth spread throughout my chest as I thought, “Oh my god. This is it. I am FINALLY in my own Netflix original Christmas romantic dramedy. LEAD ME TO MY CHRISTMAS PRINCE, RANDOMLY PLACED AND NEVER EXPLAINED ORACLE OF INSTANT CHRISTMAS LOVE.”

And then he said, “That’s because this board doesn’t show departures, you are looking at arrivals.”

November 22nd 2018:

Pt. 1: Thanksgiving is telling your recluse cousin that he can’t have the Taco Bell you brought back to the house for him until he hugs you OR AT LEAST SAYS HI

Pt. 2: Thanksgiving is finding out your grandma straight up kicked a bully at her old folks home in the nuts when he got in her face.

Pt. 3: Thanksgiving is having a discussion with your cousin about the time her friend had to toss a possum over her back fence and getting to say, “So...he...tossumed?” Then her being stunned silent for a few seconds before pulling you into a bear hug and saying, “Just...perfect.”

November 23rd 2018:

Okay, y’all remember the guy in August 2017 who hung out of a moving Uber, chasing my Uber from a bar, while screaming “THIS IS A MEET-CUTE! THIS IS A MEET-CUTE!!” trying to get my number? And then after I finally shouted my number to him he never texted me?

He just texted me for the first time. In November 2018. A year and three months later.

Is there just a whole contingent of the male population that is hitting on women and then immediately, innocently, and unknowingly stumbling into and out of imperceivable wormholes all the time? They think they’re texting us in a timely fashion and really don’t understand why any of us have an attitude?

WE MUST SAVE THE MEN. WE MUST COME TOGETHER TO RAISE WORMHOLE AWARENESS. THE MEN! THEY NEED US!

This is a meet-nope.

November 26th 2018:

My mom, grandmother, and I all have the middle name “Aimée” (pronounced “ay-may” by our Mississippi and Louisiana mouths), and we’ve all kept diaries from early childhood up through adulthood.

I’m now fantasizing about compiling the best entries from all of our diaries (comparing things we wrote at the same ages or on the same subjects) into a book.

I would title it: “Aimée Have Overreacted.”

December 5th 2018:

Because bullying is rife in my office, the last few days my coworker has been putting my mini Jenga in my chair every evening after I leave, in hopes that I sit on it when I come in in the morning. However, today I didn’t notice any Jenga Mischief afoot, and didn’t even think about it being missing.

After a suspicious exchange with him (in which my coworker told me he put the Jenga in my drawer), that caused my very in-tune Spidey senses to tingle, I discovered the Jenga in my drawer, nestled in between all of my snacks.

So now I’m highly concerned about two things: 1) I’ve had approximately 12 snacks today, and never once noticed the Jenga until I was told to look for it. So how much of my brain is actually human and how much is dog? 2) My snacks...are they no longer safe? Should I...bury them?

December 5th 2018:

My roommate’s kitten is cute! Not pictured: that time I was trying to work from home and he decided to leap full-bodied into my toilet, splashing all the water out, and then raced throughout every room of our house, merrily flinging toilet water on everything we own. #cutedemon

December 11th 2018:

The guy I’m seeing has Alexa programmed to control every electronic device in his house. He is also a Trump supporter and dedicated viewer of Fox News. This is something I’m having a hard time dealing with emotionally, and reconciling with my own ideologies. Moreover, how someone who is so anti-government would so willingly put an electronic listening and recording device in every room of their home is beyond me, but I digress.

So, I’m trying to keep an open mind, lest I become a hypocrite. We do get into tiffs over his adoration of Fox News, and I take every chance I can get to turn it off when he turns it on. I hate both the Alexa and the Fox News.

But then something glorious happened: I realized I could fight one with the other.

I wanted to go to sleep. I was in bed, and he was in the living room, being unusually belligerent about watching his precious “news” channel. We’re bickering from our separate rooms, and suddenly I realized... I could not only turn off the TV if I wanted, but I could shut off everything in his entire house with one vocal command.

“Alexa, Goodnight!”

“WHAT! Nooooo! …God…Dammit.”

But then he came to bed. ;)

December 13th 2018:

Having a rare Google Hangout with my college friends of 11 years to catch up on each other’s lives: I’ve set myself up at the dining room table with my back to the front door and window. Suddenly, perfectly in frame, the cat tries to jump onto the windowsill and falls off spectacularly. Next, a fervent banging on the door: It’s the police! He enters the house to discuss my roommate’s missing license plate, and one of my friends on the Hangout says, “will you tell that policeman to shut the HELL up?” He locks eyes with me, my scared expression meeting his hurt one.

I didn’t choose the entertainment life, the entertainment life chose me.

December 17th, 2018

I exchanged gifts with my friends today. The first gift I received was a calendar of 365 pieces of art at the Met. Kate said she wanted to give me daily artistic inspiration. The second one was a gorgeous journal, and Jordan said, “I want to make sure you keep writing.” The third was a beautiful monogrammed leather strap for my camera, and Sairah said, “I hope this gift encourages your photography.”

None of them knew what the others had gotten me, and yet each of them ultimately gave importance to my talents. That really hit me hard, to know that each of them values a different facet of my artistic and creative expressions enough to try and make sure I keep doing them. It’s especially poignant since I have been feeling lackluster about all of them lately.

It’s like I got a visit from the Three Wisemen over here (if the Wisemen were sexy, urban, 20-somethings who make up for their lack of jewel-encrusted hats and robes with their abundance of golden commentary, frankinsass, and ability to sniff out discount myrrh-chandise), and I’m a little more than a little teary about it. Thank heaven, Earth, and the deep ocean blue for friends who really see you.

December 20th, 2018

My connecting flight was boarding before my first flight landed, so, upending children and the elderly, I ran all the way up the longest escalator I’ve ever seen, got there in 7 minutes, and when I arrived, panting, Les Miles was waiting to get on the same flight. Should I tell him about my major stair-climbing feat and ask if he wants me on his team? I think this is a sign that the next chapter in my life will be...FOOTBALL.

December 23rd, 2018

Okay, fashion company algorithms. I CANNOT wear sequined pants, so please stop advertising them to me. My thighs rub together and fling sparkling pieces from my vaginal area in every direction of time and space. Is that what you want? Vagina sequins flying, unfettered, throughout the cosmos? I think that’s much too much power for one person to wield. Think of the children. They are right at crotch height.

December 25th, 2018

Apparently my nephew got his first girlfriend recently, and she attended a family party and caused a scene. His great-grandmother on his other side heard the story, folded her hands, and simply said, “Sounds like she needs to be dismissed.” He broke up with the girl immediately after. Southern grandmas are SAVAGE. #christmas

December 26th, 2018

My dad accidentally bought 40 lbs of shrimp for the 5 of us(!!!), and we boiled them and they are unimaginably delicious. But now the whole family sounds like Bubba Gump trying to figure out how we’re going to eat all these in two days: “Breakfast: shrimp scrambled eggs! Lunch: shrimp poboys!! Dinner: shrimp étouffée! Snack: hand shrimp! Second Snack: shrimp hanging out of our mouths like walruses! Dessert: shrimp rolled in sugar?! After dessert: shrimp on our eyes like spa cucumbers! Sleepytime: SHRIMP PILLOW SHRIMP BED SHRIMP DUVET #louisianaproblems

December 28th, 2018

I joined the Mile High Club today. That’s the one where you throw up in the plane bathroom repeatedly because of the turbulence and learn the physics of how liquids ricochet off of surfaces in close quarters, right?

December 30th, 2018

Tonight I called a pocket a “butt hole.”

December 31st, 2018 Just a lot of me, myself, and I over here + a viral Westworld costume and seafood. I guess that sums it up pretty well. But also my writing was published, I saw a chihuahua race, I reveled in the glory of having a beard made of my own hair, went to multiple Renaissance festivals, assaulted various strangers with Kraft singles, and smiled at a lot of exposed brick walls. Thanks, 2018!