This happens to me all the time.

I'm minding my own business, happily going about my day, and hoping for the best. I drive to my favorite gas station, the one I always stop at on the way home from school. It's a Meijer gas station--well-lit and big enough that I don't feel like I'm on display. Their candy isn't stale (stale candy is the worst!) and they don't have too much merchandise, so that it's overflowing and falling into the aisles. I hate that. And they're always getting new things, like Bagelfuls. I never buy the Bagelfuls, but I like that this particular Meijer gas station moves with the times. As a rule, I try not to use the bathroom, but today I had to. It's a nice, private single bathroom with a working lock that is usually very clean and airy. I went to open the door...LOCKED. God damn it, someone's in there!! Why the FUCK does this always happen to ME?! That's what I was thinking. Then I said to myself (in my head), "Calm down, Liz. It's probably just some very well put-together soccer mom who is reapplying her lip-gloss and will be out in a hop, skip, and a jump." Do that in your CAR you ignorant BITCH! I shook off all my angry feelings and busied myself looking at the road maps of Michigan. It's funny how if you look at something like that long enough, you'll start to think, you know, I really need a Michigan road map. I can't believe I've gotten along all these years without a Michigan road map. I've been looking at the road maps for quite some time and I start to think, what the hell is going on in there? I think, any minute now I'll hear the toilet flush. And I did start to hear noises, but not good noises. Whoever was in there must have been attempting to rip the toilet out of the floor while hacking up a lung, spitting, burping, yawning and slamming a fist onto the paper towel dispenser. After I finally heard the toilet flush, a behemoth man-beast emerged from the bathroom, clad in a stretched-out gray tank top and tight fitting black jeans and a skull cap. He smiled at me. One tooth.

Gravel--bane of my existence!!

Today I saw "Hamlet 2." It was very good. I recommend it to all of you who read this. That means you, Kate. It's a funny delight. After watching Hamlet 2, I went with my parents to Sam's Club and was dismayed by the lack of free samples of mini quiche there. Usually, weekends at Sam's Club mean a veritable feast of freebies. We went to Sam's Club because I've been thinking about purchasing a new iPod. Sam's Club often has good deals on electronics, and my parents are members. I bought my TV at Sam's Club. Kate can attest to the fact that it is awesome. My TV is the kind of TV that you really want to watch your shows on. And I love shows. While we were looking at the iPods, my dad starting ranting about how technology is "ruining" society and how he hates cell phones, but refuses to pay for a land line. Earlier in the day, he lamented that gas pumps "these days" are "so hard to figure out." I thought to myself that when he says things like this, he sounds like an old man. It's not fun when you have a moment where you see your parents as the elderly folk they're sure to become one day. Later, we went to Courtland Center mall, where my dad was dismayed by the fact that all the restaurants in the food court except for Sbarro's and a pretzel stand had closed. He said the guy at the pretzel stand claimed to be able to make hamburgers, but my dad didn't see how that was possibly since the only thing behind the counter was a conveyor toaster. I don't know about you, but some of the best burgers I've ever had came off a conveyor toaster. We walked around the Steve and Barry's superstore and my dad complained that he "doesn't look good in horizontal stripes." Then we went to JC Penny's, where I was super-excited to show my mom the new Sephora that's built right into it. My dad moped and said he "liked it better when it was Mervyn's." He'd look forlornly at a silk tie display and say, "This used to be the cuff link section when it was Mervyn's." After that, we drove to Davison for a fish dinner. Supposedly I got melted butter with my baked scallops...but only if your definition of melted butter is "chicken broth." I also got some high-school cafeteria style mashed potatoes and gravy, which I could barely look at, let alone eat. And it only cost us $55 for dinner! What a steal. Ironically, my dad had nothing to say about that.

I was thinking that it might be fun to post some of my old emails, so here's the oldest one I've got (it's from March of 1998 when I was a Junior in high school):

"matt,

first of all, i don't know if it was you or tom who fucked with my
password, but whoever it was is gonna be majorly fucked over because i
didn't think it was funny. it took me forever to get on tonight but
i've got a new password now and you can be sure that neither one of
you will EVER find out what it is. and whoever wrote on my outgoing
mail "lizbian queen of the dykes" i didn't think that was funny
either. and ducks can too have names.

liz

p.s.what's so awkward about interracial relationships?"