Baby Fever

There’s a reason I work at Planned Parenthood: I hate babies. 

Babies are like these weird alien things that, no matter how new or hideous they are, make everyone around them turn into cooing creatures who think they’re adorable.  

 

 

 

 

And now everyone in my family is popping them out. 

My sister should be popping out her second any day now. 

My step-brother called me on Saturday to tell me that he impregnated his 40+ year old girlfriend and they’re expecting a baby in March… his first.  Her fifth. 

And yesterday, I got the dreaded call from little brother saying he knocked up his stupid girlfriend.  No seriously, she’s stupid (they both are)… no form of birth control at all.  And they can’t even pay all their own bills now, with just the two of them.  

Congratulations, Mom.  Looks like you’ll be raising another kid. 

And to that- I’ll drink.

Because I still can. 

 

We Have a Genius on our Hands!

Sometimes I don’t know if I’m a genius or if everyone around me is just a fucking idiot. 

I’m new to this coffee drinking thing, and after getting a quick rundown of how to make coffee (yes, I was that clueless) I quickly perfected best practices. 

We have one of those double warmer-coffee makers where one pot is for normal people coffee and the other pot is for decaf.  (What the fuck is the point of decaf coffee, anyway? If it doesn’t keep you awake, why drink it?!)

 

Someone watched me make coffee yesterday and actually called me a genius because I used the decaf pot to pour water into the machine…and no coffee spilled as it was being made.  …And here I am thinking that was common sense. 

 

And yes, I work with one of those people who labels EVERYTHING… because apparently the coffee pot is going to grow legs and walk away.  We need to make sure everyone knows it’s OURS. 

 

Why So Serious?

Things aren’t supposed to get serious. 

We were doing a REALLY GOOD JOB of not getting serious. 

And then we spent four nights together and have seen each other five days in a row. 

 

The weirdest part is that I’m not even getting sick of him yet… I’m just not use to spending this much time with another person.

Going For Gold... And Falling Short

If given the opportunity, or, at least when I decide I'm ready, I like to think I'd be a damn good girlfriend. 

 

Lenny was having a bad weekend (the Knights and Jags lost...again) so I thought I'd be the best and surprise him with a six pack of his favorite beer, a Calfiornia burrito, and a box of condoms.  (Seriously, what more could a guy want, right?!)

 

So there I am, walking around Ralphs (in my pajamas, sans bra because it's still hot as balls) looking for the condom aisle. Well, turns out there isn't a condom aisle, (c'mon! this was in Hillcrest!)... they had condoms... but none big enough to fit him. 

 

 

 

So I just showed up with a six pack of beer and burritos. 

 

Still awesome, but not has awesome as it could have been.

YIKES

 

 

I only have six months left of being in my twenties...

 

Time to get cray cray!

San Diego in September

Is brutal.  Eleven months out of the year, we have wonderfully perfect weather.  And then September rolls around and it's hotter than the devil's dick. 

 

 

 

It's almost 90 degrees every day, the humidity is off the charts, and no one has air conditioners.  I seriously enjoy coming to work because I'm getting paid to sit in an air conditioned building.  

 

It was so hot on Sunday I was dripping sweat laying naked on the bed in front of the fan.

 

With Lenny. 

 

 

The End of an Era

GQ has been quite the recluse this summer... but I suppose that's what happens when you're an engineer, and a model, and a grad student and all those other things. 

 

After making and breaking a million plans this summer, we finally hung out this weekend... and he broke the bad news:

He's moving to LA at the end of the month. 

I mean, yes, it's great that he landed his dream job and they made him an offer he can't refuse...but how is he supposed to fall in love with me all the way in LA?