Next they're going to kick us out for taking showers.

Sorry I disappeared for so long, but I didn't have internet for awhile after moving. Anyway, the new place is great... in itself. It became immediately evident, however, that the landlords are completely incompetent scumbags. Ever since we moved in, we have had one problem after another. Pretty much everything that can leak, is, and multiple attempts at "fixing" them have failed.

Now we come home to find this on our door:

OK, this wasn't on our door. The version minus the stickers was on our door.

These fools gave us their last key to their own property, consequently did not have access to their own property as required by law, and are proceeding to try to evict us for their own mistake.

I'm still looking for an appropriately ridiculous frame before I display this on the wall in a prominent location for the next time the "maintenance" people come over. They should just rent out our guest bedroom since they're here practically every day anyway.

I'm just waiting for the ceiling to cave in from our bathtub leak that they keep "fixing" and then get charged for it.

The cherry on top of this absurdity is that before we moved in, they changed our doorknob from one that locks from the inside to one that only locks from outside so that we wouldn't lock ourselves out and come running to them for a key. HAHAHAHAHAHA

The internet confirms: I am Pirate Cinderella.

I wanted to be Cinderella for Halloween but I only had a pirate hat... so Pirate Cinderella, it is. If you Google "pirate cinderella," you find this picture of Cinderella wearing a pirate hat with my name on it.

It was meant to be.

How did you know, Google? Are you in my brain??

I think my blood is trying to tell me something.

I got my results back from the lab and hoped I only had six months to live so that I could shuffle off this mortal coil, but alas, everything was normal. Everything except...

Stop looking at my abnormal bun.

I am quite sure I do not have any bunions, so I indignantly showed my mom the report. She read it, paused, looked me in the eye and said, "Your buns are low." Thanks, Mom.

I did some research and it turns out that I am not sentenced to an early death, so I guess I'll keep shuffling on...

At least he used the magic word... mom taught him well.

I'm not sure why this is happening, but it seems that the older I get, the younger the men I attract. This was a record, though. After church service, this scrawny kid walked up to me and wordlessly handed me a note. I took it and read: My name is Carter. My number is ###-###-####. Really? Cute! I wasn't sure how to respond. I didn't have any paper, so I just used the speaking-words. I believe "um... I'm old" are the specific words that came out of my mouth. I asked him if he was in college and he said no, but he's twenty-one. Twenty-one! He handed me another note: Can I please have your number? Sparing him the horror of my age number, I nonetheless insisted that my phone number was not a thing he wanted, and he left.

Awkward enough... then his mom showed up and wanted the scoop! She assured me that he was a sweet boy but was going down a wayward path, so when he calls me I should just try to get him back on track. I explained that her son was ten years my junior but didn't have the heart to tell her that I wouldn't be exhorting him because I didn't actually give him my number.

People, I have visible gray hair. I don't know if I need to dress differently or what.

I failed my gyno exam

...not in the sense that I was diagnosed with an STD. More like the opposite. Read on for too much information...

I am a thirty-one-year-old virgin (by choice, obviously.) Because I haven't had a physical in years, and I haven't had sex in, um, ever, this was my first Pap smear. (I figured this is the only action I'm going to get for awhile so I might as well take advantage. Just kidding.) It's always funny how the doctors don't readily believe me. No, I'm not; no, I never have been; no, not even oral.

First she wanted my tongue and then she felt me up, I guess wanting to run the bases in proper order. She told me it wouldn't hurt, so I wasn't expecting it to be so painful. She had to try the smaller size speculum. (I wear a size two so I don't understand why she didn't choose the smaller one in the first place... who are they for, middle schoolers?!)

Afterward she just left me lying there naked, but came back to discuss the future of our relationship. She advised me to start using something called a dilator in order to prevent pain next time. She informed me that such a dilator can only be purchased at an adult shop. I can just see myself now... Doctor's orders, I swear!

T-Rexes are nowhere mentioned in the dress code.

I went shopping for "work clothes," and all I came home with was three bracelets and these:

If I wear them to work, that counts, right?

I was in denial until I started suffering withdrawals at work.

Mom: Here, have my month's supply of Ambien! According to my doctor, it's totally not addictive at all!
Me: OMG THIS STUFF IS AMAZING. I AM TAKING AMBIEN FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.

Me: Brother try this Ambien, it's like magic. We're giving it out like candy over here! I am totally addicted. Ha ha, just kidding, because it's not addictive.
Brother: Indeed it works. Do you have more of that?
Me, protecting my last pill: MY PRECIOUS!!

Me: Doctor please give to me the Ambien... I uh... I hear it's good stuff.
Doctor: Well you know Ambien is addictive.
Me: ...Is it?

Me: Ambien is addictive!
Mom: Well, my Doctor didn't say it wasn't non-addictive...
Me: Get your devil pills away from me!

Me: Ugh, all day I have been so dizzy and nauseous and I don't know why. It's really unusual.
Coworker: Maybe you should eat something [and keep your rehab at rehab].