David The Intern (Part Two: Spring Cleaning)

The way my week begins always says a lot about the kind of week I’m going to have. So when I woke up at 8:15 on Monday morning to 6 missed calls and the following 14 text message (all from Babe) I knew it wasn’t going to be a good one.

“Where r u?”

“Where r u?”

“Where r u?!”

“Literally, where are you?!”

“I have an emerrgencyyyyyyyy.”

“I might be dead.”

“You’re useless.”


“Can you pick me up a juice on your way in?”

“Anything green with dandelion extract.”

“Actually wait, nevermind.”

“Just hot water with lemon and Splenda.”

“Actually, no Splenda.”

Also, I feel like you’re always late, and it’s note cute. Just saying.”

Although I’m not expected at “work” until 10, my day starts whenever Babe gets up. So even though I was 1 hour and 45 minutes early, I was somehow already late.

When I finally got to Chateau Babe at 9, she was categorizing her closet for spring. (note: every few months Babe re-organizes her clothes for the upcoming season). Since explaining this process would be a breach of my contract I’ll spare the details.  What I will say is that the entire ordeal requires hours of manual labor, an eye for distinguishing one black Tom Ford dress from another, the precision of a surgeon, and a military-like ability to follow instructions barked at you from a fashion Nazi.

Babe gave me a detailed list of things to do, then left for a work lunch with her book agent. Now, usually when Babe goes out to lunch, she’ll ask if she can bring me something. Nice, right? Well unfortunately what I ask for and what I get never end up being the same thing. That’s why I wasn’t at all surprised when I asked for tomato soup and Babe returned with edamame, which were half-eaten and cold.

I spent the rest of the week locked in Babe’s closet wading through spring ready-to-wear. When all was said and done, Babe had called me a “heathen” twice, told me that I should go to “intern school”, and used the phrase “think before asking” ten times, at least.

I’ve learned not to underestimate the rigors of spring cleaning with a self-proclaimed Closet Psycho. 

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I was gonna cancel, then I realized not showing up and not saying anything about it would be more powerful. #whitegirlproblems

My Boyfriend: Friday Night Lights/Tim Riggins

Lately I’ve had a little bit of extra time on my hands. My book is done, my body is in a fine place, and my love life is stable. So my Netflix game has been on overdrive.

I’d resisted watching Friday Night Lights for years despite the fact that every person I know tells me to watch it at least 43 times a day. There was absoultley nothing appealing about it in my opinion. Football = no. Texas = unclear. High School = never.  But half out of wanting to shut everyone up and half out of seeing that Connie Britton was in it, I relented and watched the pilot.

That was 4 days ago. Today I’ll finish the entire fucking 3rd season. I’m UH-HUB-SESSED.

I love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, it. It’s less about football and more about life’s struggles in a middle class, Texas town struggling with it’s own identity and racism. So chic.  

I’m currently pretend dating one of the characters on the show, Tim Riggins. Might seem like an obvious choice, but it’s not like that. He’s really complicated and deep. Trust me.

I feel so much better about myself now that that’s off my chest. Like a huge weight has been lifted. Thanks for listening.

Posted in Actresses, Babe, Babe On FIlm, I Am Culture, I Am Love, My Boyfriend, Relationships, Television | 1 Comment

You look full. #whitegirlproblems