Best Wifey Proposes

If you haven't heard of Wade Cothran: "The Best Roommate Ever" then congrats on your recent discharge from the State Penitentiary.  You have a lot of catching up to do.  Assuming you know how to use a computer; visit apple.com it will blow your mind, google 'social media' (this may require assistance), oh yeah... NASA is gone, and our President is black. Back to this blog and it's author...as a little girl, when I pictured my dream guy, he wasn't holding a beer stein...then along came Wade.  A perfect stranger from Alabama who made me laugh when I read his Craigslist ad that a friend reposted on Facebook http://www.bestroomyever.net/the-ad/

I did what any normal girl who's fallen head over heels for a guy she met on the internet would do; I proposed on Craigslist.  Below is my response to "The Ad".

Best Wifey Ever! - 26 (SF Bay Area)

---

Date: 2011-12-16, 8:32PM PST
Reply to:

---

Wade I'm in love with you!

Best roommate ever? More like best husband ever!!! You clean toilets, cook, and read books!? Well shit Wade baby. . .what more could a girl ask for? Dude, let's be honest; most women are just looking for a guy who's not a complete douche, who can make her laugh, while being only slightly better looking than Jonah Hill. Seth Rogan at his skinniest couldn't hold a candle to you. Yeah I said it; you're fucking hot!

Plus you cater to vegetarians? Make sweet sweet love to me right now! Most guys think chicken is part of a vegetarian lifestyle. Zucchini and yellow squash Carpaccio? Are you effing kidding me? That's not a word in the average male vocab, much less his recipe collection.

If you didn't have me at "watch the shit out of movies" I was all yours at "love getting baked and listening to Bob Dylan." Seriously, where did you come from? Oh that's right you said Alabama. Well I've never been there, but seeing as how it's the birthplace of Helen Keller and ummmm. . . you; it must be pretty awesome. I'm just your average lady looking to get swept off her feet, and let me tell you sir, you swept the shit out from under these piggys. Your words are sheer poetry. And then I read that you own a guitar! One I assume you'll be playing while you serenade me with original love songs about the two of us. After that line, I was putty in your hands. . .the one that isn't holding your two duffle bags of clothing. How modest. You know I bet some girls are bummed that you're not a flaming metrosexual and only own eight pairs of shoes but I think it's incredibly thoughtful. More closet space for me. . .how fuckin' sweet are you!? And to think all I had to do was stumble onto Craigslist to find my perfect match.

Babe, let me just say I can offer your nomadic ass more than just basic shelter and a bathtub. I'M NOT SURE ANYONE HAS EVER ASKED THIS ON CRAIGSLIST BEFORE, BUT WADE COTHRAN WILL YOU MARRY ME?

Here are the following reasons why I'd make a kick ass wife. . .

I'm confidant. No insecure lady sitting at home checking in with you every hour that you're not at home making me bomb ass vegetarian dinners. What's that you say. . . you like to frequent the strip club on occasion? Not a problem teddy bear, I already went to the ATM this afternoon and got you a shit ton of singles. So hand over that Monopoly money so you don't get kicked out again.

Too tired to cook Carpaccio tonight? No worries, I go H.A.M in the kitchen! How does penne a la vodka, with a tossed salad, and red velvet cake for dessert sound? All in a days work hot stuff.

Don't like pet names? No prob; I was never that attached to them anyway. Like to booze it up with your lady but hate when she spills on your oversized couch? I'm not a spiller. Party fouls have never been my forte. With a stem or without. . .in a solo cup or in a beer bong. . .I don't spill a drop. Yeah you guessed it; you're gonna want me on your beer pong and flip cup team, cause I've got mad skillz and I'm super competitive.

Just before you assume I look like a big dyke, you're wrong. I'm a  petite brunette, and my measurements are the same as the ones Sir Mix A Lot rapped about. You know. . . "36- 24-36? Ha ha, only if she's 5'3." That's me to a 'T'. So yes, I'm pretty banging, very feminine, and a total girls' girl. Which means you'll have to open jar lids for me, hold on to my arm when I'm sporting 5" heels, and expect that it takes me at least an hour to shower and get ready for a dinner date.

Did I mention that my sexual appetite can rival that of most frat guys? Plus I'm a theatre major so I love to role-play. I keep it spicy by nature. . . trust me boredom has never been an issue. Plus I studied dance for sixteen years. Excellent for posture, body awareness, self-confidence, and oh yeah. . . flexibility. You get it.

Before you think I want to ruin our lives with a bunch of mini Wade Cothrans, you're wrong. Having babies doesn't interest me. Which is good news for us. . . we'll have plenty of money to travel, buy oversized sofas designed by super models, and stock our bar with expensive liquor. And most importantly I'll never get saggy
tits.

And don't worry I'm open to relocating. I currently reside in Cleveland; it's the Paris of Ohio. While the sunny bay area sounds enticing, I'll warn you that it'll take some convincing to pull me away from the shores of Lake Erie. If you've ever been here, then you know exactly what I'm talking about.

So Wade, if you're reading this and had to think of your grandmother at least once to suppress a boner, then you should seriously consider my marriage proposal. After all, girls like me don't come around on Craigslist everyday.

*Other applicants need not apply; my heart belongs to Wade

• Location: SF Bay Area
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 2757284148

Office Holiday Party

They're flying off the shelves...

Break-ups

                    I broke up with my boyfriend, 

                                                                                                    (solution)

                 broke up with my waxer,

                                                                                 (remedy)
and I broke up with my therapist...

                                                            (answer)

But now that I don't leave the house, 
I'm saving so much money on gas!

Online Dating Tutorial: Profile Pictures 201

This post is a continuation in what I'm sure will be a series of self help tutorials aiding clueless males down the littered back alley of online dating.  There truly are so many things to be said for the importance in carefully choosing ones profile picture.  

*Disclaimer: If at any point while reading you find yourself lost or disconnected in regards to the content, please refer back to the prequel to this tutorial entitled: Profile Pictures 101.  In my first guide I gloss over the fundamentals, structure, and building blocks of profile pics while highlighting common mistakes.  202 is an in depth analysis as we step farther away from the 'common man' and delve deep into a sect of males I like to call "guys who just don't get it".  Below is an honest female perception of the following profile pictures after a prudent and thorough five second viewing period.

1. The Army Dude

Let's be totally honest here.  Nothing says Skype dates and pleasuring yourself with your vibrator like dating a guy in the military.  No offense, but long distance is rough.  And dating someone overseas with limited access to a telephone, is long distance for extremists who are reeking with patience and copious amounts of self control.  Moving along...


2. Committing Arson in my Spencers T-Shirt

Okay buddy let's get real, that fire is beyond us two getting cozy and toasting marshmallows.  That's the kind of fire you destroy evidence in...the kind of evidence you don't want to be recovered...EVER!  It's down right reminiscent of the guy posing with his rifle in Profile Pictures 101.  I see this photo, and I take this as your solemn promise to burn me alive should I ever break up with you.  Starting a relationship off with scary promises of bodily torture isn't a killer way to find your match (both puns intended)...but hey, I'm no expert.
Secondly, your shirt says "Plays Well With Self".  Classy.  And from the looks of you, painfully obvious.  But let's not start out by spouting off about our masterbation habits right off the bat...we haven't even met yet.  Save something for date number two.  Perhaps you yourself (reader) are like this guy and don't have a lot to brag about.  I mean aside from building ridiculously large fires in desolate areas (most likely full of human corpses) and your right handed girlfriend (unless of course you're a lefty) maybe you should try and highlight other positive qualities you might have.


3. The Name Dropper

We get it you met Giada DeLaurentiis.   And in addition to you wanting me to assume you're a bad ass cook, and hoping I blind myself with visions of us cuddled up watching the Food Network, I'm also supposed to think you're the coolest guy I've ever met right?  Talented in the kitchen, perhaps he's on the sensitive side...I'm on to you asshole!  What really infuriates me about this picture is not your potential love of Italian cuisine or whatever fetish you might have for petite brunettes, but that you are exploiting Giada!  After she signed your cookbook did you ask her if you could post her picture on www.nolongerlonely.com?  (yeah, it's fucking real...click that shit)  Don't do that to Giada, or your kids, or your grandma, or your ugliest friend.  It's not cool to expose a third party just to make yourself look cool, sensitive, or more attractive.  Plus it didn't earn you any brownie points...in fact they've been revoked!


4. The Knee Slapper

"This picture more than adequately depicts my sense of humor and flair for tomfoolery.  Let me break down the series of events surrounding this picture so you can fully understand why I chose this as the one and only picture in my profile, and thus the only means you have to judge me as a person (besides some poorly worded paragraph I wrote about myself.)  
I opened up a present on Christmas morning and then proceeded to put the ribbon from the box on my head.  I'm sure I'm the first person to ever do this, so unknowingly this photo also portrays how original and spontaneous I can be.  My sisters kids got a real kick out of this one.  (note little bastard I was unable to fully crop out)  I guess you could say I'm a bit of a practical joker.  Regardless, if you date me I can guarantee there is plenty more where this came from!"


5. Grow up you fucking babies!

No woman in her right mind is sitting on her couch sifting through personal ads saying, "I just want a boyfriend to take care of...the kind of guy who's searching for the mother figure he never had growing up."  Stop portraying yourself in odd pictures partaking in little boy activities.  Get off the swings, take off that stupid bucket hat, and grow up.  Did I mention the removal that heinous hat?  Because that's almost more offensive that your love of tree swings.
As for the gentleman spooning his teddy.  I really hope he's trying to be funny and this picture is actually a witty commentary on how he doesn't take himself or online dating too seriously.  If not I'm worried.  Worried for single women everywhere, as all hope for us is seemingly diminished with each click of a new profile.


6. I Spy

Let's talk about what we see in this picture.  Aside from the obvious thug tatts, ugly shower curtain, and wife beater tan lines...why does this guy have 5 tooth brushes?  1 dude, 5 tooth brushes, and 1 washcloth sized towel.  I'm no mathematician, but this just doesn't add up.  Roommates you say?  Ugh...I have failed you as a teacher.  WRONG...it's worse than four roommates, we're talking kids here.  While there is no mention of him having children in his profile (not even in the drop down box titled 'children')  Take note of the plastic tree frog behind his head.  Take an even closer look, and you'll also notice a second wall decal, precisely at a toddler height level. Something cartoonish and colorful...the kind of shit that bemuses children while they bathe.  This guy definitely has kids...I'm willing to guess about four; unless he just has a compulsive brushing habit and a really horrible sense of aesthetics when it comes to home decor.  In that case I take back what I said about his plethora of little angels.  Either way, steer clear of this one for a variety of reasons!

My Hallmark Commentary on Relationships

The Virgin Mary

I always think it's strange when my doctor asks, "Any chance of pregnancy?" 


Why bring chance into it?  I guess anything is possible; look at the Virgin Mary.  She was on the ultimate birth control and she still got knocked up. 


So to answer your question, "Yeah I guess there's always a chance."

Online Dating Tutorial: Profile Pictures 101

I'm not a relationship professional or an online dating aficionado, but as a female with strong opinions, I have a few pointers when it comes to males and how they advertise themselves on dating sites.


The following is a tutorial for men on what not to do when uploading a profile picture.  No computer algorithms were used to derive these conclusions, there were no in depth panel discussions, no board certified doctors present during this research; but I can personally guarantee that these men are not getting dates.
So guys read on, and discover how to stop cock blocking yourself with a bad pic and actually meet some ladies.


Exhibit A
College Forever Land

Wow, I'm impressed!  Some men may assume that security, intelligence, wit, and dashing good looks are at the top of a woman's list; but they're wrong.  Most women are more concerned with whether or not their man is going to dominate in a rowdy game of beer pong.  No lady wants to be embarrassed at the bar by her guy's less than average ball tossing form.
It may surprise you, but 3 traits listed higher than your skills in the bed are: his ability to rack up points in beer pong, speed and agility in flip cup, and form/cleanliness when bonging a beer.  It's tough to find a 35 year old male who's trapped in a world where he never stops playing college drinking games.  Exhibit A proves he's out there, and I can speak for all women when I say, "Thank God!  He really does exist."


In all seriousness we get it dude.  This was a proud moment and you've captured it on film.  But keep this one buried in a box in your basement.  Highlighting your beer pong skills when you only have a limited number of photos to upload is a total waste.  So was the money you spent on that XXL t-shirt, but that's fairly minor in the scope of what's happening in this picture, so I'll let it slide.  Also, no need to list how many shots of Jagermeister you can down in an evening.  Feel free to omit that from your profile, most ladies are interested in more traditional stats: height, weight, income, etc.


Exhibit B
Check dis shit out!

Sadly, this is the same guy as Exhibit A (no joke).  Nothing quite says, "I'll probably blow your head off when you break up with me" like this picture.  If this photo is supposed to depict a profound love of hunting, perhaps he should have listed that under his hobbies.  Or taken this photograph while wearing hunting apparel in the middle of a forest.
Instead he threw on his favorite tee, parked it on his couch, and had his friend photograph him holding a giant rifle.  (Friend w/ camera) "Dude what's this for?"  (Scary gun owner) "I just started online dating and I need some kick-ass pics to reel in the ladies.  Now let's go down to the basement and get a couple of me by the beer pong table."


Exhibit C
It's hard to avoid looking like a douchebag when you're taking your own shirtless photo.

 
This guy is naked in all of his pictures.  Having to view one picture of a guy with his shirt off is a deal breaker (depending on his biceps), but 6 photos!  After a brief overview, any lady perusing these photos is going to realize that your dating venues are seriously limited.  Second thought, why is his camera so handy post shower!?  This is a sure fire way to totally weird a girl out.  Also his screen name: hot_guy69_4you_baby.


**There are exceptions to being shirtless. Here is an example of an acceptable shirtless photo: 1. He isn't taking the picture himself  2. He is taking part in a shirtless activity  3. He has a great bod

Exhibit D
I love to read

Not all bad photos are of tools and douchebags.  Some lame photos are of intelligent fools like this one.  Here's the thing buddy, you can just tell me that you enjoy great literature and I'd believe you.  Just as I'd believe you if you said you love Mexican food, that you work out three times a week, or have a  really organized apartment.  I don't need a picture of you eating guacamole, red faced and sweaty on the treadmill, or a photo of your in-home filing system.  I get it, and I believe you.  I have no reason not to; you're a perfect stranger and you can paint any of picture of yourself that you want to.  


Exhibit E
You wanna date me?  F*&k you!

Positive aspects of this pic: the bike, it's cool.


Deal breaker: flicking off the girl who was interested enough in your profile to glance at your photos.  Not a great kick off to a romantic relationship.  This appears to be a candid photo, what with his lounge position, but then he gives the middle finger to the guy he asked to photograph him?!  I guess I'm supposed to think he's cool?  A rebel?  A badass?  Basically the only way this pic would be acceptable is if he was fleeing the paparazzi while riding the bike, and flicking them off during the high speed chase.


To sum up this tutorial: if your mother wouldn't frame it, and put it above the fireplace; don't add it to your profile pictures.

Zumba Scares Me

I attended my first Zumba class earlier this summer after my sister begged me to sign up with her. (In case you are unaware, Zumba is a Latin dance exercise class.) It's sweeping the nation...where have you been? We took the six week session...it was awesome. It was Super fun, a great workout, and the teacher make it look so easy. After week three I was like, "psshhh... I could teach a Zumba class". 

In typical Jen fashion, I found a certification class, signed up, and put it on my credit card in five minutes flat. That's right, no real thought was put into this decision. It was a couple hundred bucks. Ok, a couple hundred dollars I didn't actually have, but I kept telling myself, "Education is never a bad investment." I'm a pro at rationalizing purchases.  

Training day rolled around and I drove to the YMCA and hour away.  I was ready to learn everything I needed to know to become the Zumba instructor I'd been dancing behind for the last 6 weeks. The class was taught by two white, middle aged, married people. Married to each other that is...a fact I'm glad they mentioned because the husbands sexuality was beyond questionable. The two of them were cut straight from an infomercial and pasted into the YMCA. They're entrance into the gym was choreographed and cued by music. Their Zumba apparel even framed their Zumba tattoos. Yes, that's right! Both of them were sporting the Zumba logo which was tattooed on their body...in ink...FOREVER! I was getting sweaty, were tattoos mandatory to graduate? It was barely 8am, and the two of them stormed into the basketball court painted gym like a coked out pair of the SNL cheerleaders. "Who's ready to Zumba!!!??? Well come on!!! Get up and let's get craaaazaaaayyyy!" I looked around and people were actually running to get a spot in front. There were no door prizes...why the fuck was everyone running!?! I woke up late that morning and didn't get my Starbucks. I thought it would be ok...I thought we'd start with an informational video or something a little more sedentary.

To sum up the day, we danced a ton, we watched the husband and wife team grind a lot, and we were all brainwashed into joining the "insiders club". The super cool, elite, club for instructors that offers DVD's, music, and discounts for the low low price of $30 a month. I walked into the YMCA repeating this promise in my head, "Don't join the 'insiders club'; no matter what it comes with, or how good it sounds, DON'T PAY TO BE IN THE CLUB!"

I am a weak willed person; especially in the presence of great sales people.

Yes, I am still a member of the stupid insiders club. This will serve as a reminder to myself to call and cancel asap. I got home from the training session and realized I just spent several hundred bucks to watch a white guy "brush the dirt of his shoulders". What the hell did I really know about Zumba!? I didn't walk away with a lesson plan, or dances, or even music. (I have to wait for that shit to come in the mail) I just attended a motivational seminar that got me so pumped to teach I didn't realize that I was only leaving with a club card and a diploma.

The cherry on the sundae of this story is that in typical Jen fashion; I secured a job teaching Zumba about a week before I took the course. I had the daunting task of filling an hour with Latin dance. Dances I know like the back of my hand, so the people behind me can follow along.  Do you know how many songs fit into an hour!? Nearly 16! Talk about pressure...why did I do this to myself? I'll say it; I'm scared of Zumba.  Unfortunately, next Thursday it's on!  Me...faking Zumba in front of a classroom full of people expecting a coked out SNL cheerleader.

  

List Making

I made a list of all the reasons you suck!  That way on the off chance that I forget, I can reference it and remind myself why we stopped talking.

Seriously, where the hell did I put it?!?

People Watching

My inner thoughts while people watching for three hours at the Atlanta airport...

An attractive guy walks by:
Hmmm... I wonder what he looks like with his shirt off?

A really attractive guy walks by in the other direction:
Wow...hot!  I bet his has a big one.  At least I hope so...

A girl in pajamas shuffles by:
Come on girl!  Seriously!?

An overweight guy walks by (belly hanging over pants) :
I bet he's really funny.

Wandering Hands

Remember that kid from high school who would creep up behind you with clammy hands offering to massaging your shoulders?  Well not exactly offer... more or less just straddle you from behind toboggan style, while putting a death grip on your trapezius muscles so you couldn't get away.   If you don't recall that kid then your subconscious has done you a favor, and if you do then he definitely makes a cameo in your nightmares from time to time.

I learned an important lesson this week.  "Hands" grows up...and unfortunately he never grew out of his compulsion to invade the personal space of others.  In fact he doesn't even know what personal space is!?  I know this because I work with him.  It's not actually the same kid from high school, but a grown up adult version.  In the work setting this translates into body contact with every social exchange of words. 

"Excuse me" =  his hands on your back or shoulders as he mimes squeezing past when there is actually more than 3 feet of room between you and the wall
"This is nice" = him touching the fabric of your clothes and rubbing it between his fingers like he's never felt cotton before
"Do something different with your hair?" = him fingering the ends of your locks (your hair is the same as it is everyday)
"I didn't want to startle you" = he approaches your desk and immediately puts his hand on your shoulder
"A lot of rain lately huh?" = he gives you a baseball style butt tap (ok not really, but I'm sure it's coming one of these days)

This man is skilled and doesn't pick up on body language or social cues.  I've literally power walked down the hallway and he still maintains constant contact with his hand on my lower back.  I've done "fake outs" and changed which hallway I decide to turn down last minute, I've cleared the better part of a staircase in one jump, and use the reflections in the glass picture frames to avoid a chance run in...my success rate isn't that impressive, but it's a pretty great workout.  Maybe someday I'll stop suppressing the word vomit and tell him to get out of my bubble...until then I'll work on honing my cat like reflexes.

He Could Have Been the First

The first guy who actually 'got it'; who was on the same page.

The following entry is not about suppressed word vomit; on the contrary it's one of the few times I said what I wanted to say... and not just to myself, but out loud.

I met Bob...um scratch that, let's call him Ryan.  We met back in December and went out on two dates.  The first date was really quite great.  His humor and excellent choice in restaurants had nearly overshadowed the fact that he was average looking and overweight.

Second date: another great restaurant, very funny convo, and I think he even ordered a bottle of wine for us to split.  I don't know why, but when a guy orders the whole bottle I feel like we're both ballers.  And I mean that how black people use it, as in 'ballas'.  This guy was hilarious and a great story teller.  I know, I know, it was Marilyn Monroe who said, "if you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything."  But as I like say, "You can't sleep with someones personality."   I wasn't even interested in making out with his.  I mean we did, but that's only cause he caught me off guard and because I was trapped in his car.  This 'surprise attack makeout' has happened to me on more than one occasion.  I must have horrible reflexes or seriously need to come up with a standard line to use when I see an unwanted guy going in for the kill.

After the second date I didn't hear from him for a month and I found this really gratifying for several reasons.  First off, it was refreshing that we were both mutually uninterested.  Totally mutual breakups almost never happen; kind of like simultaneous orgasms.  Second, his not calling meant we were on the same page.  He saw it like I did... and was sparring me that weird quasi breakup speech where he makes me dump him even though we were never dating in the first place!  I was ready to write him down in my book as 'the guy who actually gets it'.  Thank God...finally a guy who is really astute to social cues.

I spoke to soon cause a day later he sent me a text that accused me of ignoring him.  That series of texts went something like this:
R: What's up I get no response!?  Geeeeez.  Guess you're just crazy busy with work or your play...that must me it.            [I was actually producing/directing a play I wrote during this time]
Me: Actually I am...the show opens this weekend, pretty hectic.
R: Exciting!  However I think you need to prioritize appropriately...let me help.
1. Return Ryan's calls 2. Work on your play 3. Eat 4. Sleep.  See how helpful I can be?!  Give me a call when you're free and we can get together.
Me: I thought it was pretty obvious after date 2 that we weren't really clicking.  Plus any interest that might have been there faded when you let a month pass b4 contacting me again.  1. If you're interested pursue the girl 2. Your the guy and that's your job 3. You should see my play, it's full of dating advice that you might seriously benefit from 4. You're not the only one who can be helpful :)
R: Haha.  Holy shit!  Good luck with that play, you're seem to be a dating expert so I'm sure it will do well.  Bye...

I let him have the last word cause it was not only funny, but well played.  Sure it was just texting, but that was some serious word vomit that I managed to let fly, and I wasn't even drinking.  Big step forward for Jen Griffin.  Back to the story though, his recontact was disappointing... the month lapse was totally unacceptable (that's dating 101), much like the surprise makeout; he totally cornered me into having the pseudo break up conversation that I was trying to avoid!  But mostly I just really wanted him to be the first guy who actually 'got it'.  I wanted that so badly; much like my naive desire for a heterosexual male best friend, but I'll save that for another blog session.

So What Are You Doing Now?

A couple of friends and I went to Cedar Point ( an amusement park) and in an effort to cool off; ducked into one of the air conditioned theatres for a show.  Long story short I saw that one of the peformers went to Ball State University where I studied, (well drank a lot) during my Freshman year of college.  Cedar Point is a pretty legit summer job for a college kids studying Musical Theatre.  I spent a summer singing and dancing in one of their shows making $500/wk and thinking I was totally loaded.  Which is totally loaded for a 19 year old without any living expenses.  Heck, I think I actually make less than that now.  After we had named all the teachers we both had, she looked at me with her wide naive eyes and in the sincerest voice asked, "So what are you doing now?"  She begged the question with the most hopeful, unjaded, and optimistic outlook of a kid still in college.  Obviously a girl who's never gotten up at 4:30am, to take a subway 140 blocks to scribble her name on the 'unofficial non-union sign up sheet' (at three different audition venues) hoping she'll get to sing her best sixteen bars for a casting director before her restaurant shift at one.
I didn't have the heart or humility to tell her the truth.  I gave her some vague bullshit answer that didn't include getting cast in a Broadway show after my first couple auditions.  I wanted to tell her the truth that it's hard and that post grad life as a musical theatre major looks something like this...I'm working a souless job in marketing which I really have no experience in, but my dad knows the boss so he got me in; and it sure beats waitressing!  But I haven't totally abandoned musical theatre, I'm currently in a community theatre production of 'Chicago'.  No it's not a regional theatre or even summer stock.  Just an unpaid gig in a small barn in the middle of Ohio.  Kind of a shame about the unpaid part cause I'm drowning in student loans but I'm hoping to start paying them back now that I moved back in with my parents.  The local paper just dogged the show in their review, but on the up side we've pre-sold a lot of tickets.  And I did get the lead, so it looks like my 120 thousand dollar education in the performing arts is finally starting to pay off.  So I understand you're going into your senior year... seriously if it's not too late you should really change your major.

Did you like my cake?

No! It was drier than the dead potted plants on your window sill.  You can find the rest of it in the trash.

(that's what I wanted to say; but in reality I nodded yes, and said
  “ Mmmm chocolate is my favorite”)

Why do we have to pretend to like bad cooking?  Subjecting yourself to an upset stomach to spare someone's feelings??  This has gotta stop.  From now on when the cook asks, I'm being truthful.  No more heaping spoonfuls of half assed compliments that give the domestic flunkee a false impression that their dish is a real "crowd pleaser." 

Before you know it, you've created a monster that brings a heaping plate of raisin bars to Thanksgiving every year!  Nobody likes raisin bars!!! They're dry and unappetizing.  Raisins are the most useless fruit on the planet...they don't deserve to be the main ingredient in a dessert!  They're a "helper ingredient" that belongs in a bagel or oatmeal cookie (hopefully in groups no larger than five).  The bearer of the raisin bars is your great aunt who doesn't recall much; except for that one time some loud mouth said, "What's this?  Raisins?  (bite) Not bad."  Honestly, I don't think she knows my first name or how we're related.

So the next time someone plates me up a dessert I didn't ask for, I'm going to tell them after the first bite why I'm unable to choke the rest down...and introduce myself... and tell her she's my great aunt.