Here is my face.

I have hands and feet and other parts too, but I prefer to keep some things private.

If it's helpful in imagining the rest of me, one time a guy I used to bone described me as "sort of like a hot Gumby."

I was offended by that description at the time but then a while back I had vagina surgery and I walked a lot like Gumby for a couple of weeks so maybe he was just seeing into the future? He was describing my body, though, not the way I walk, so I don't know. Possible I was wearing a lot of boot-cut jeans at the time.

For the record, the bottom part of my legs are shaped normally, regardless of the type of jeans I might be wearing. And I'm not green.

Not at all like Gumby, really, I don't know what that guy was talking about.

I'm sure you were hoping for more from this bio than how my body was once inaccurately described, but if I tell you everything in this one little box, I'm not sure why you'd read all the other great stuff on my blog.

Plus, there's a lot you can tell from this picture of my face.
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I'm a white person, for one.
I'm also a female.
If you look closely, you can see some grey hair, which means I'm no spring chicken.
I'm smiling with my mouth closed - could be I have eff'd up teeth or possibly my neck muscles get all weird when the corners of my mouth go up too high. Maybe both.
I might live in a house with a blue door. (I don't.)
Finally, it appears that on the day this photo was taken, something interesting was happening to my right.

There. Now you know some stuff about me.

Bye.

Wednesday, Edinburgh

March 4, 2020

You guys, life is so hard.

I forgot to get my absentee ballot for the primaries and I’m so behind on work and my hands are getting all itchy from all the anti-coronavirus scrubbing I’ve been doing.

Also – OH MY GOSH, ALSO: We got to Edinburgh on Monday and HOLY F-CKING SHIT, ALL THE BUILDINGS ARE SO BIG AND HEAVY HERE, I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

ALSO DOUBLE-DECKER BUSSES.

AND GROCERY STORES WITH DRINK AISLES.

We were just walking home from our co-working space and this big honker of a building was giving me the heebie-jeebies so we ducked into the grocery store under the guise of breakfast necessities.

I was standing in the wine aisle and my brain went to that place it goes to when I see one of those trucks that carry all those big water jugs you find in offices, you know what I’m talking about, and I started to breathe all funny so I grabbed a dry white and made a beeline to the register, knocking over small children and screaming “GET OUT OF MY WAY” at an old lady.

The Hot Canadian was confused at first, but then he could see I was serious business about getting the eff out of there, so he ran around like a crazy person to grab the stuff he knew I’d bitch about not having in the morning, while I counted my breaths and waited for the floor to cave in.

I know every time this happens he thinks I'm ridiculous, but he tries to understand, which makes him even hotter.

In the three blocks between the store and our AirBNB, there were two castles each weighing at least as much as North Dakota, and no less than 35 of those monster busses. I soothed myself with the knowledge that all the furniture in our place is from Ikea, and therefore weighs maybe 20 pounds collectively. Also there are only four cups, four plates, four bowls, which means the cabinets are mostly empty and probably won’t fall off the wall.

You think that’s a joke, but a few years ago, an entire wall of cabinets in my old office fell off the wall literally 5 seconds after I walked out of the kitchen. And if you think it’s crazy to be afraid of the ground caving in, just ask anyone who lives in Philadelphia how crazy that is – it’s not crazy at all, it’s seriously not.

Anyways I'm home now, sitting in my cheap Ikea chair, finding a good serial killer documentary to calm my nerves. It's all gonna be fine.

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Lovingly filed under:

freakouts

places

Here are more things

Here is my face.

Wednesday, Edinburgh

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