Matt and I go “shopping” today and of course I manage to find the one deep V-neck T-shirt located in the entire men’s department of Bloomingdale’s. Heather grey with a screen-printed rainbow on it. And it was on sale for only $15 – imagine that! I buy it with only the faintest intention of ever actually wearing it.
Walking past Abercrombie, the topic of the prosthetic arm lawsuit comes up and I say to Matt, “Would Abercrombie hire me?”
“Probably,” he says.
PROBABLY?
“I mean, yeah, I’m sure they would.”
Um.
“They probably wouldn’t hire you because you’re just so BIG.”
Ding ding. Now we’re talking.
On an unrelated note, I have isolated spots of cystic acne all over my face. This is what happens when you stress out about stupid shit that won’t even matter in six months.
i didn’t mean you weren’t attractive enough, i meant that you were too old.
Isn’t acne a byproduct of roid usage (which you haven’t done, of course)?
Hmm, did you just give away your boyfriend’s real name, while you toil away under a pseudonym?
I’m with you on the excessive worrying. Miss you!