My tendency to make up stories and lie compulsively for the sake of my own amusement takes up a good portion of my day and provides me with a peace of mind not easily attainable in this economic climate.

It always freaks me out when I go to a sushi place and there's a Mexican.

I don't know what it is about accents that makes me want to get undressed and high-five myself.

Lydia was the kind of friend whom people referred to as a 'party favor' -- always fun to be around but she doesn't have any patience for suffering unless it's her own.

I have a question. Do you guys think it's OK to drink while you're pregnant if you're planning on giving the baby up for adoption?

Don't take 'no' for an answer. Keep knocking down walls until someone says 'yes.'

The only people I owe an apology to are my dead parents. Except my father because he's still alive.