You know what it was like? It was like thinking I was heading to a surprise party and instead it was a surprise pap smear.

When I hug her, I notice she's still wearing yesterday's false eyelashes. Mom? You know those come off with a little makeup remover and a cotton pad?" I'm not taking them off." Why not?" I spent $180 on that makeup job and I refuse to wash my face until I get my money's worth.

Writing is something that I've always loved. That stems from my love of being a reader.

Really? If I could hate my trainer? That would be ideal. I'd prefer to despise this person with the fire of ten thousand suns. So when I walk - nay, crawl - out of here at the end of my workouts, I want to lull myself to sleep by picturing my very talented and inspirational trainer getting hit by a bus. A bus that I am driving.

I'm not lazy. I'm simply judicious about excess movement.

No, it's not a 'corpse thing.' I feel I lack the emotional capacity to deal with those in mourning.

When did the cell phone become a license to be rude? And why must I be subjected to your personal conversations?