The Cruise

I found this when I googled "Tampons Cruise Ship."

I was afraid to use a tampon until I was a sophomore in college, when my family went on a cruise over the Christmas holiday. My sister and I were sharing a cabin, and I told her I couldn't go swimming. When she found out why she gave me a fist-full of tampax and trapped me in the bathroom. I tried to get out but she leaned all her weight into her shoulder and kept the door pinned shut.

"Do it," she said.

At least that's how I remember it.

This post is brought to you by me getting my period  Every. Single. Christmas.

Sorry

Working on getting a movie blog off the ground, so I have been neglecting this one. Which is decidedly notnice. But look, I am also working on a movie script and some essays, I work 6 days a week, started writing for a coupon website, and somewhere in there must find time to rub the belly of my puppy. So, I'M SORRY. Once everything is up and running, I'll post more hilarious stories about me eavesdropping in ladies' bathrooms.

Could you say no to this?

Update!

In case anyone was wondering how my battle with sugar is going (I may have stupidly declared this "No Sugar November," lol Brooke), I recently bought a dozen mini-cupcakes and hid in my bedroom and ate them all while watching Paranormal Activity 2.



What makes this story even more alarming and pathetic (if you can believe it) is that between buying the cupcakes and consuming them I watched Thor with one of my housemates, his girlfriend, his sister, and her husband. This would have been a great opportunity share the cupcakes and to be a nice person and a good hostess and also ensure I would not eat all 12 cupcakes myself. But I kept my little secret and I ate the shit out of those cupcakes.

 Then I ate a cookie.

The war rages on, my friends...

Update November 14th: Consumed an entire 9" cake by myself. Okay, my mom had once slice. When will it end?

The Worst Thing I Heard: At A Restaurant

"Can we get our check? We need the drinks on one tab, and then everything else on four different tabs. Ohmygosh thank you so muuuuuuch!"

INSIDER TIP: Saying "Thank you!" doesn't negate the complete asshole-ness of your request. :)

BOOK REVIEW: Streets of Laredo

SPOILER WARNING FOR ALIENS AND ALIENS 3 AND I GUESS LONESOME DOVE AND ALSO STREETS OF LAREDO


It was difficult for me to enjoy Streets of Laredo, the sequel to Lonesome Dove, because Larry McMurtry seemed to be suffering from what I call Aliens 3 syndrome.
Basically what happens is the storyteller takes the survivors from the previous movie or book, and the good feeling when you were like "Ughhh, they killed Bill Paxton but at least the little girl got out safely," and they KILL THEM. IMMEDIATELY. No, no, that's not right. THEY ARE ALREADY DEAD when the story picks up.
I'd like to punch David Fincher and Larry McMurtry in the balls. You know what? Everybody gets punched in the balls today. BALL PUNCHES FOR EVERYONE!


In all seriousness you should read Lonesome Dove immediately.

2 things

1. I am annoyed that I like this song. 




It's so manipulative! It feels like a computer wrote a Rolling Stones song. It's right but... it's not quite right. Still, I paid $1.25 on iTunes and listened to it as I walked my dog through the Tenderloin at night. I punched my foot through the fog with that first kick of the drums, completely helpless.


2. After looking over that last post which, granted, is half in jest, I think I need a vacation from the internet. Man, do I.

BROOKE F. IS A WHORE

It is a mystery I have never solved. After first period on my first day of high school I found bathroom graffiti about myself. In the second stall in the second floor bathroom, someone neatly penned BROOKE F IS A WHORE on the toilet paper dispenser. I hadn't even been in high school for a full hour! Surely there was a Brooke F in a higher grade with a nasty reputation. How awkward for this freshman, to share a name with the school slut.

I searched for this hussy in the school directory. She was not there. Just me. I was the whore! How could this be? Who hated me enough to slander me during the first 50 minutes of school?

There was only one real suspect: Heather from summer school basketball. That bitch would have knifed me if she could have gotten me alone. 

I don't know why she wanted to smash my face with a basketball. It was instantaneous. I think it had to do with my shorts, which were cutoffs. I missed the first two weeks of training because I was on a school trip, and I missed the day they told us no jean shorts. My Umbros were long gone; I cast them off in seventh grade, when I figured out girls hate girls who wear Umbros after elementary school. The cutoffs were all I had and, since NO ONE told me they were forbidden, I wore them every day. 

Layups in my jorts. 

Suicide runs in my jorts. 

Scrimmages in my jorts. 

Trouble with girls AGAIN because of my shorts. 

I later heard from a few girls that they thought I was giving the finger to our coaches and everyone by wearing the cutoffs and I was probably an asshole. These girls eventually learned that I'm not an asshole, but Heather never caught on. She ran laps behind me, whispering "bitch" with each pound of our feet. 

So I guess it was her. I don't know why calling me a whore would be anyone's priority on the first freaking day of school, unless maybe it was my ex traveling back in time? He was pretty fond of that word, too. 

The moral of the story, my friend, is to be very careful about your shorts. You don't know who you're gonna piss off. 

Way Harsh, Facebook

So I sent a friend request to an old pal and former co-worker, kind of against my better judgement. I'd just caught up with a mutual friend and this guy's name came up. I thought: "Hey, I kind of miss that guy. He was really cool and very nice to me." I knew he was tight with some people I don't get along with, but I figured I'd give it a shot.
He didn't reject me, but he hasn't approved, either. Which is actually just fine. I knew I was taking a chance when I sent the request and, after perusing his wall, it became apparent it might be awkward for us to be facebook friends.
Like I said, that's fine.
But facebook keeps giving me the news flash that he's adding all these other people as friends! What the hell! Why is facebook rubbing this in my face? The dude didn't accept my friendship, so why should I be getting updates on his activity in the first place? And for it to be like "Hey, dude accepted like 5 more friends today. Hmm, funny, you're not on the list!" is uncalled for.
It's a cruel game, Facebook, and it's not appreciated.

My Biology Professor

I got an A. 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Naw, I actually heard this was pretty bad.

customer service

I am a terrible cashier and should never handle money. I was a good cook but it made me tired and very cranky. I feel too stupid to do anything. My drawer is never even and I am starting to wonder if someone in the cash up office has it in for me.

I take the money I count the money I count the change back I give the change back. How can I keep messing this up? It makes me feel fucking stupid. Why do I pretend I could do something more complex? That I could handle going back to school? It makes me very depressed. 

I used to get good grades. When people told me I was a good writer, I almost believed them. 

I was good at bagging groceries, even though that woman accused me of smashing her tomato (a lie). 

Maybe it would help a little if customers didn't treat me like an idiot. I know you don't pack frozen food with hot soup, you whore. And this woman today, talking to me as though I were an exasperating two-year-old. She was upset because the bags of ice someone had kindly filled for her to keep her fish and meat cold were LEAKING and the girl said they wouldn't LEAK but FEEL THEM they are WET AND I HAVE TO DRIVE AN HOUR AND I DON'T WANT MY BAG TO GET WET and I said "they are just sweating, ma'am. Like a toilet." And maybe you should buy a fucking thermal bag if improper refrigeration gives you hives. I thought she said she wanted her cheese in with the fish and I asked "You want the cheese with the fish?" and she lost her shit over that. I said, "That's why I asked," because it seemed like a dumb request but here at FOOD STORE we do ANYTHING THE CUSTOMER WANTS with no regard for our personal dignity. Then she got mad because I wasn't going to put the ice on the bottom, WHICH WAS THE WHOLE POINT OF THE ICE, HELLO!, except I thought maybe having the ice sandwiching the fish and meat items might be better, since there were so many of them quite a few were not even touching the ice when I stacked them all on top. She sighed at me so many times and then I regurgitated those sighs in front of other customers, and I felt bad because I was just frustrated with my fucking life and not them. 

But I'll tell you I spent the day with Mark and it feels wonderful to be with someone who treats you like you're worth a damn.