I don’t friend request people that I’ve only met once. I may have an epic-sized friend crush. The sort of friend crush that has me envisioning a future where I’ll be known as Aunt Sarah and live down the street and it will be ahhhhhmaaazing. Even then, even under such extreme circumstances of friend-crushery, I’ll resist the urge to contact them first. No one likes a stalker, kids.
When in doubt, show up with a bottle of wine.
When stuck in an awkward social situation, grab that bottle of wine and head to the bathroom. Ain’t no party like a bathtub party. Trust.
I don’t care if it’s yellow. I will not let it mellow.
Even when Andre eats all of my pita chips, the ones that I bought expressly for dipping in hummus, I resist the urge to yell at him. Among other things, he tolerates my tendency to leave the cupboard doors open. In exchange for his unwavering patience, I’ve learned to deal with him noshing like a kid fresh out of fat camp.
Girl code. I live in a city of 8 million. There’s no need for me to go swimming in someone else’s pool.
Re: #7 I’m kidding, friends. No need to hide your boyfriends.
Give generously of my time, attention and money. I will also give generously of my uninformed opinions [see: this blog].
It is totally acceptable to eat an entire mini cheesecake if, hypothetically speaking, you find yourself home alone watching He’s Just Not That Into You. Under no circumstances should anyone else bother to rent this movie. However, if you are looking for an excellent source of mini cheesecakes, I would recommend taking a trip to 355 Court Street. Try the espresso flavored one.
As much as possible, avoid asking “So what is it that you do?” Both the question itself and the likely answer, show a definitive lack of ingenuity.
