More Tales from the Accidental Asshole: The Egg Lady

I don’t usually go to Halloween parties. I don’t like to dress up in a costume, and this is the part where you get to snark, “Is that because you’re usually wearing some kind of crazy outfit anyway?” to which I will say, “Yes.”

But I’m not a hater, and I don’t think it’s stupid or childish, and I like other grown-ass people having fun on Halloween. All the sexy turtles and literal interpretations of catchphrases. It’s like watching Facebook memes come to life. It’s delightful.

But that’s once a year, and that’s how it should be. (I am not a crack pot.) This is why I’m not excited when you Evite me to your Themed Birthday Party. Continue reading

Tales from the Accidental Asshole: The Wine Tasting

I am not the best when it comes to names and faces. I will remember one or the other, but I cannot seem to put them together. And I’ve even tried the thing where you hear someone’s name and then you imagine them wrapped up in their name, like “Monica Berg” becomes a cheeseburger moaning in ecstasy or whatever, but the next time I see that lady, you can bet I’ll somehow end up calling her “Patty Cheesescream,” right to her face.
Continue reading

kicking it.

Pam: Hey, how hard is your kickboxing class, man?
Patrick: … You’re going to be blogging about it tomorrow.

Consequently I’m in bed. I’m about to get up, but I want to make sure my entire body is awake before I stand. I haven’t actively engaged any muscles other than my arm to lift this laptop, and my fingers to type these words but… I have a feeling my lower half is angry with me. Continue reading

zenophobia

I met a man over the weekend who lives in a Zen Buddhist retreat. I think he’s technically a monk. He’s the kind of guy who had major life changes and then moved away, found inner peace, and now lives off of next to nothing in a remote, self-containing, life-affirming, meditation-and-chanting sort of way.

In other words, the kind of person I find fascinating, yet would never, ever want to be. I started asking him questions. Continue reading

lattes of the rich and the famous…

The constant social disconnect that is Hollywood can be fun, but it can also get frustrating. I’m at a Starbucks staring at a man who is either:

A) Someone I met recently and had like, a single conversation with, which means I met him at a party, or I had a meeting with him, or he worked on the pilot somehow for a day…

or, more likely,

B) Someone who was recently on television or in the movies. Continue reading