I Stepped On A Nail And It Went Through My Flip Flop.

(Is the word “flip flop” supposed to be hyphenated? The English language is annoying.)

This whole week has been like stepping on nails and misspelling words. (Note: I just misspelled the word “misspelling”. Exactly.) It’s been the kind of week filled with sadnosity and the quasi-suicidal-ness that only comes with being over dramatic.

Today for instance, I didn’t realize my pants were inside out until someone at the grocery store asked if I was really a size 7. I wanted to ask why they were reading my pants, but I’m nice so I said yes, and then proceeded to discuss the price of chicken for what felt like an hour.

Then yesterday, I had a “First Blood”-esque fight/manhunt with a spider that might literally have been the size of Sylvester Stallone. I hid in a corner for 30 minutes armed with a fly swatter and piece of cardboard that I made into a shield. Eventually, [my boyfriend] just came over and hit it with his shoe and then asked me to clean up the fort I made out of sheets and boxes because it was blocking his office area.

I reluctantly said yes, but Vietnam changes a man. That spider could have pursued me for weeks.

"Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don't turn it off! It wasn't my war!"
“Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don’t turn it off! It wasn’t my war!”

Then I found out that my ex boyfriend/first love got his girlfriend pregnant and I totally freaked. I realize I have no right to be upset, but we were gonna have a baby too and I lost it. (Pity me and I’ll stab you. Don’t make this blog sad.) Mostly, I’m pissed that everyone I’ve ever loved or been best friends with has replaced me with a fat and less-attractive redhead.

phone 466

Seriously, even my best friend all through middle school and high school dropped me for another redhead who was just a poop version of me.

(I bet Lindsay Lohan deals with this sort of thing all the time.)

So all in all, the nail-in-the-flip-flop-thing wasn’t so bad. Things could always be worse, like being hunted by a large spider or wearing inside-out pants to church.

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White Girls Be Like

Hey there, I'm Alanna. I can't give you my last name for legal reasons, but you probably won't pronounce it right anyway. This is a blog about various occurrences in my life and also some of my thoughts and feelings about things, otherwise known as "what white girls be like". It's true. We be like... "Cats, Lana del Rey, Coors Light, and Twitter". If you disagree, please comment and tell me to shut up. Otherwise, enjoy! :)

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