Born Marion. Nicknamed Mayan. Graphic Designer.
SD native living in LA.
Young the Giant addict.
If you don't know who that
is, then we are wasting our
time here.
At Alicia’s dirty thirty last night, I realized that A) I should just automatically assume that every guy who pursues me is in a relationship (as my ongoing track record suggests) and B) maybe I shouldn’t have worn leggings. I can’t even tell you how many people grabbed my ass! I went home alone last night and I’m not gonna lie, I feel pretty good about not having to take a shame shower. I don’t care how hot you are (or how drunk I am), some guys just aren’t worth the trouble… I may have woken up this morning with dollar bills in my bra and a serious hangover, but at least I still had my dignity!
This must be how Reese Witherspoon felt in Pleasantville when she started reading books and stopped being such a whore.
Going to Chez Nous and not getting a spicy chicken melt is like going to Outback and not getting steak. Today, I did both.
My coworker’s husband brought me a fruit salad for lunch instead of my usual spicy chicken melt, and for a delicious second, I thought that the nectarine strips were fries. After work, I went to Outback for Alicia’s birthday dinner and ate grilled fish while everyone (including the 7-year-old sitting next to me) ate steak.