What's the frequency, Kenneth?
13 September 2004 at 10:17 am

I think I'm starting to become slightly repetitive, but I don't really care at this exact point in time.

A conversation that still pisses me off:

Coworker: So, I was listening to Howard Stern this morning...

Me: Ew. Continue.

Coworker: And there was this guy who wrote a book or something on how likely it is to get married, statistically speaking.

Me: Where is this conversation going?

Coworker: And if you're short, there's very little chance you're going to get married. And if you're past a certain age and over a certain weight and have a certain hair color, there's no way in hell. So since you're, you know, short, I guess it's good that you're in a serious relationship already, lest you be LONELY AND PATHETIC FOREVER since you are not, statistically speaking, the marryable type.

Me: There are so many things wrong with that sentiment. The first fallacy is the idea that women still identify themselves by their ability to latch onto a man and never let him go, as though there is no other way to feel as though we have led a worthy life. The second is the whole idea that you can know how likely it is to get married by how tall your are. My mom's 5'2" and she's been married twice. I know a girl who's 5'3" who was divorced before she was 21. Maybe you can make assumptions about the inverse relationship between height and divorce rates but don't be telling me that my love will never be recognized in a court of law because I lost the genetic lottery.

If only I could be so articulate instantaneously.

And then there's people like Suzy. All she ever wanted was someone to go to the Exploratorium with her but her brain chemicals didn't match up quite right. Did they factor that into their equation?

And then all I ever wanted was someone to bring me gummi bears at 2 in the morning but when he did I broke up with him. Aaron doesn't even know I like gummi bears, but he leaves chocolate cake on my purse for breakfast.

Netflix is clairvoyant. They put Auntie Mame on my recommended list -- how did you know, Netflix? How did you know.

I spoke with Matt Wh33l3r on Saturday night. We've been AIM pals for well over a year now but hadn't spoken over the phone except to trade voicemails until that night. Though he had heard my voicemail message, he felt the need to say that he expected my voice would be deeper. How does one respond to that? I apologized. The conversation from that point on was semi-forced, though I carefully avoided saying, "Welp, I'll let you go now," because I Loathe when people say that. Just call it like it is: "I have better things to do than talk to you, so I'm hanging up now." No point in avoiding confrontation in favor of being polite, for the latter will leave both contributors wondering where it went wrong. Closure.

I think someone spiked my coffee with coke. I'm feeling shifty. And snotty

one year ago today: "So maybe I won't be going to college after all. But whatever. You know?"

two years ago today: nothin.

three years ago today: nothin.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.