I have the good toilet paper

7 Feb

I’ve turned into an old lady since slightly before my 5th 29th birthday. I’m even crankier in the mornings, I need even more sleep, I have a bedtime now, I’m stuck in my routines which makes having houseguests a unique form of torture for me, I can’t drink white wine after dinner and I carry antacids in my purse. As I grow older, one of my best friends has decided she would rather be 22 again for some reason.

One night, late at night *eyeroll* – it was like 9pm – she called and told me we were going out ‘dancing’. Now, this is Albuquerque on a school night, there is nowhere to go out dancing and if you pretend to you end up in some total amateur shit hole questioning your life decisions and wondering how humanity could have failed us so colossally.

I considered my sweatpants, my pizza bagels, and the fancy toilet paper I had just bought. I thought about pillows and snuggling Frank and warm running water.

Instead of saying anything coherent or normal I answered “No, I don’t know what kind of toilet paper they are going to have.”

This is what my life has become.


Mi quinto 29

28 Jan

Things I would like for my birthday:

A haircut and my nails done
An electric drill
A robot
A garden in the backyard
Peace of mind
Some focus
Comic books
A trip to Maine
Someone to tile my bathroom for me
A vacation
A full tank of gas
A cheeseburger

A mulligan for the last 17 years


Also, these are my other birthday lists, if you are interested in the evolution of Lindsay

It happens

7 Jan

So here’s my last two weeks in a nutshell.

My old English professor came over in a bathrobe, crying, so now he’s staying with me.

My colleague already lives with me.

My colleague told HR I wanted to file a sexual harassment complaint and that wasn’t real.

Then the man I never wanted to file a complaint against crashed a motorcycle and died.

Then my friends got in a fight, kind of, and I spilt town. Went and had a Santa Fe day.

I can’t do it. Call me when it’s over. There’s too much drama at the holidays.

Parks and Wrecks a Haiku

5 Oct

I told a coworker to write a poem on the old typewriter I found. I could see him counting on his fingers and thinking of phrases silently. A normal person would assume he was writing a Haiku.

I got this instead:

"Lindsay in disguise

Grinchy grin always wins

Always use the half rule"


I actually kind of love it.

Spirit Animal

26 Jul

I come from a bobcat. True story. Explains a bit, I suppose (I’m also a descendant of pirates).

So before I get to the story of my birth, let me tell you about my brother’s. It’ll give you a little context to my understanding of life and death.

My mom and dad wanted to have a kid for forever and had all these complications and then finally my mom got preggers with my bro. So as she went into labor and headed to the hospital my family was all a buzz and excited. My Grandmother and great-grandmother got in the car and headed down the mountain (we’re Appalachians) to the hospital to see him be born. It was a time of excitement and happiness. But a terrible car accident happened on their way and my great-grandmother died. My Grandmother was badly injured, I think she broke her legs and all. The joy of my dumb brother was interupted by this tremendous tragedy. So I always assumed that my great-grandmother, Granny Meade, was my brother’s spirit because he kind of is a little old lady on the inside. Very much.

So then came me, the whoops baby. Or as I like to say, the most awesome miracle and best news ever.

My dad worked for the phone company while he was doing his post grad. He climbed up the telephone poles and fixed stuff. I don’t really know, it was back in the days of land lines. He found a stranded kitten one day, put it in his shirt pocket, and brought it home to my mom.

Oops, it’s a baby bobcat.

Anyhow, they raised the bobcat and named it Chris. There are pictures of Chris cuddling with my brother as an infant and then as a toddler. He was a good *big* cat. So anyway my mom was pregnant with me, broke her femur (largest bone in your entire body. Go big, mom) waterskiing, was recovering from getting the cast off her leg, and Chris started acting weird. He curled up under the table and was having trouble breathing. My mom, extremely pregnant, still mostly one legged, crawled under the dining table to lay with him and hold him. She called my dad crying. My dad, thinking she’s gone into labor, rushes home. And as they sat with Chris the bobcat as he died, under the dining table, guess who came into the world?

If you guessed me, you’re right. So my brother has Granny Meade and I have a bobcat’s spirit.

It all makes a little more sense now, huh?


7 May

A little video of our summer together…

Grinchy Smile

25 Mar

My best friend and I have a way of describing one of my moods- grinchy. I get that grinchy smile like a Dr. Seuss character and then I do something random and mildly annoying like putting wasabi peas in the M&M’s or setting the alarm clock for an absurd hour like 3 a.m. when I know she’s tired or give her boss a full on moon.

So when I was in the Cayman Islands I had this smile A LOT.

One morning after Aaron left for work I somehow stumbled into a rando’s Netflix account on his TV. He used to AirBnB his place out when he traveled so someone a year ago had logged on and it was somehow still there. All the queue was like the Dick Van Dyke show and Fresh Prince and Friends and Disney movies- wholesome shit- so I put on Forensic Files and went to the beach. I came home, we BBQed, went swimming and hung out….14 hours later it was still playing Forensic Files! I fucked up some random person’s queue so bad!

And once we realized what I had done….

we put on a porn. Just to make it super extra weird whenever they log in again.

Grinchy smile.

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