How people romantically pair up eludes me. I’d have a better chance of learning Greek from a teacher who only spoke Greek before understanding the rules and non-rules of the dating scene. I once told a gentleman pursuing me that I was in between phones. I don’t know exactly what that means, but it sounded plausible, especially in the early otts when people were exploring the possibilities of cell phones. I just didn’t know how to let him down honestly, even though I believe in the definition of honesty and how it can positively impact your life.

I know I’m going to catch a lot of flak for this, but I don’t care, because PEOPLE DESERVE TO KNOW THE TRUTH, and I’m not going to CENSOR MYSELF just because there are some things that THEY don’t want us thinking!

I think we humans have been doing a pretty rotten job taking care of the Earth lately, and that we should therefore consider turning over our dominion of the planet to another species. I suggest possums. They are smart and have little hands—maybe they’ll be able to use some of the tools we leave behind. Except jigsaws. I don’t like the idea of possums with jigsaws.

God hates me. And now I have proof.

See, there’s this guy. Cute. Awkward. I’m hoping smart. He’s caught my attention. But, because God must hate me, the list of reasons why we’d never work is depressingly long, so I hold no hope that anything beyond requisite pleasantries will ever transpire between us. And yet this guy short-circuits my brain like no one else has. When I get within 10 feet of him, my usually coherent mind vacates the premises and leaves a bumbling, babbling half-wit in its place, believing, I guess, that I won’t notice.

I’m not disabled, just a terrible person. The boyfriend sometimes accuses me of being manic when I write to him at 3:30 a.m. calling him a magnificent, exotic pitcher plant or a gorgeously ornamented egg-cup. But not disabled — I feel like that’s an important piece of information before we start.