White Girl Problems (White Girl Problems #1)
August 15, 2005 Today BW arrived 10 minutes early to her session and sat in the waiting room until it was her scheduled appointment time. When she came into my office she looked at me, said, I cant with you today, and left.
During moments of uterine compromise, my presence on campus would put faculty and students at risk. Think Columbine, but in a Burberry trench.
Even though I dont give a shit about sports, Ill always give a shit about courtside seats. Its just who I am.
I also took up smoking Marlboro Reds and model-scowling at everyone to ensure that I would have no unwanted interactions. It worked, thank God.
If you are a girl, and youve had a significant relationship with someone, chances are youve saved all the pictures/letters/supercute little notes from that relationship in a box that is somewhere in your room or apartment or mansion.
Ill be on more drugs than Burning Man himself, but Ill go.
I may have lit the match, but it was karma that kept the fire blazing.
Ive found that falling asleep is the best way to politely excuse yourself from an unwanted interaction.
My choice of nail color represents three things: my mood color at the time, an interpretation of Natures seasonal color of the moment, and finally, a touch of influence from the weeks racks at Barneys.
My dad should have listened to me when I told him that college was not my thing. Instead, he insisted on learning a $200,000 lesson the hard way. Thats the thing about collegeyou pay a ton of money just to realize that everyone is a fucking moron.
She knew what she wanted, got what she wanted, and did so with a measure of grace that made you realize that she operated on another level.
She looked like a dead Teletubby.
That being said, I fucking HATE shopping with other people. I insist on doing it alone because its the only activity that truly centers me. Its meditative and personal.
You know what Im gonna do? Im going to smoke two Marlboro Lights, brush my teeth, pull my hair into a chic/grungy little bun, put on my black shawl and a pair of Lanvin flats, walk down the hall to that smelly girl from Arizonas room, steal ten Adderall from her stash, come back to my room, and write down all my lifes problems from start to finish.
You know, when a guy is just dumb enough to make you feel smart, but not so dumb that he makes you feel dumb for dating him?