My Worst Enemy


Let me tell you people about a little something I like to call my worst enemy.

Every time I am forced to partake in involving myself with my worst enemy I swear it’s the last time. But it never is. I’m still poor and therefore must be reunited with my worst enemy on a regular basis. Because I’m also 23. And I like to party. My worst enemy makes me nauseous. It’s unsteady. It smells like a mixture of Burger King and the people who eat at Burger King plus 25 year old carpet. Which means I now smell like that. When I finally get away from my worst enemy I will forever smell like that. I will feel filthy until we meet again which I swear will be never – but it’s usually about a month.

I’m talking about the bus people.


The dreaded, evil, “coach” Peter Pan, goddamn bus. Peter Pan flew to Never Land first of all. And I’m pretty sure that’s not fairy dust in that guys pocket. Every time I buy another bus ticket I die a little inside. I took it every freakin’ weekend in college and I swore that once I graduated I’d never take it again. It’s a hard knock life because I spend a lot of time in New York but I live in Boston with my Ma and I like to keep freshly manicured nails and an updated wardrobe… So you better believe there’s no $200 to splurge on the Amtrak.

So here I sit in the Devil’s lap. Stuck in traffic and trapped in Hell. And you know the first thing you do when you get on the bus is take a seat and offer the one adjacent to your bag and or feet and stick your headphones in to look as uninviting as possible but someone always sits next to you.


“Is this seat taken?”

“Uhh yes it is. You can tell by my menacing stare and the size of my carry on, thanks!”

And it’s funny too because on a full bus what do you do? You look for the seat next to the most non-threatening person you can find – which is usually not much of a selection. So here I sit, all 115 pounds of white meat with my clean blonde hair and Macbook and the fat smelly guy looking for a seat just hit the jackpot. I’m doomed. And what the hell is that smell by the way? Because I’ve never smelled anything more horrific than the smelly guy on the bus and I’ve been to the bathroom at Six Flags.

The guy sitting next to me now is ok though. And I’m not just saying that because he’s reading over my shoulder…


But since you are… Hey…



Ever Since Graduation, I’ve Been Slowly Dying…


With graduation season in full swing a lot has been on my mind. Partly, that I’ve been a big sassy real-worlder for a whole wide year already; but mostly, that with that year came a level of softness I thought I could never attain.

Thirsty Thursday used to mean high heels, short skirts and Long Island ice tea specials at Monkey bar, followed by a Celeste pizza for one in bed (10 for $10 at the local supermarket YOLO) and a truly sinister Friday morning. Now I lose my balance in my heels when I’m sober and all Thirsty Thursday means is that I’m dehydrated from hot yoga and I’m shopping online for clothes I could only afford if someone was paying me to blog.

Oh how the mighty hath fallen.

A caramel macchiato does now what a 20mg a day Adderall prescription did just 12 short months ago. I don’t even know what would happen if I popped one of those suckers in this condition. I think my heart would explode. Is this what old people feel like when they reminisce about how it used to be easy to walk? If this is to continue my future looks very, very grim.

“Dying is a very dull, dreary affair. And my advice to you is to have nothing to do with it.” – W. Somerset Maugham

Easy for you to say W. I’m 23 and I have lower back pain.

Peter Pan said it was supposed to be an adventure. Idiot. What are we doing listening to him anyway? He also thought he could be a kid forever.

Thanks a lot Peter.