Author: Editor in Chief

Blog, I am in fact perplexed about why I was able to _not_ share that which I have not been sharing yet. I am deeply troubled, blog, by my ability to keep this morsel of noteworthy goodness from you. Are we not dear friends, blog? Do I not share everything with you? Why have I been so distant? Who knows?! Don’t take it personally, blog, it’s not you. It’s me. Maybe. Maybe it’s you, blog. Maybe you’re bad at keeping secrets. I told you about eating yogurt once, blog, and sure enough, next thing I know, a couple days later, one person asks me about yogurt. How could he have guessed I eat yogurt?! You probably blabbed, blog, you have no restraint. I can’t tell you anything.

What have you got to say for yourself?!

Whatever blog. I forgive you. I mean, technically the yogurt thing wasn’t a secret.

Anyway, like I was saying, I have some pretty big news.

I got a new cell phone. It’s sleek; it’s sophisticated; it’s sexy; it’s totally me. The ring tones that come with the phone are all inspired by rave music, so every time someone calls it’s like a party in my hand. Other people look on when my phone rings, enviously no doubt.

The phone also has a built in camera, so I am able to take pictures of a quality resolution when I feel inspired by something. For example, the other day I saw a good looking guy. I was inspired and took his picture and set it as the backdrop on my cell phone.

I also bought a kit with the phone that lets me treat it like a music player too. This way, when I am not using the phone to chat with my friends, or taking inspirational pictures, I can be listening to music.

The phone, dear blog, has also caught the eye of many of my peers and friends. I’ve heard people making admiring comments like, “Is that your new phone?” and “New phone, huh.” Sometimes I’m embarrassed by that kind of hullabaloo around the new phone.

“Yeah,” I’ll reply sheepishly. I don’t know why they make such a fuss about it. I mean I know why, because the phone is sleek, sophisticated and sexy and can take pictures and play music, but like is that stuff even important? I guess so. I mean, yeah, it’s pretty important. Who am I kidding? It’s really important. Oh blog.

It’s too bad you are not as cool as me with my new phone. Maybe that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. The truth hurts.

Anyway last Tuesday, I asked, “What are you wearing Monday?”

He said, “I was thinking about wearing this,” pointing to the t-shirt that we both own.

“Oh, but you’re wearing it today. I wanted to wear it on Monday,” I replied.

“Okay, you can wear it Monday,” he responded. I am very good at negotiation.

This morning I excitedly threw on the shirt, and then threw a fit. The shirt was not flattering at all to my phsyique or my complexion. I thought about calling the whole thing off. “I’ll just tell him he can wear the shirt today. I’ll pretend like I had a change of heart. He’ll think I’m the best girlfriend ever, letting him wear what he wants, when I allow it.”

But then I thought, “No. Surely he will soon realize there was more to my change of heart. He will know.”

There was only one thing to do – ACCESSORIZE! I promptly threw on a necklace and a headband. I also added some intellectual glasses. I thought about braiding my hair and then decided against it. Pig tails are risky and should only be used in times that require extreme cuteness. Then I thought, “You are being absolutely ridiculous. This IS one of those times. If this isn’t an ECR (Extreme Cuteness Required) moment, I don’t know what is.” I braided my hair, more fiercely than ever before in my life.

So there I was, heavily accessorized, in braids, still not looking fabulous, and rather looking borderline absurd, in the t-shirt we both happen to own. But if it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t both “happen” to own it! It _certainly_ wasn’t luck that made it so we both owned it. I rued the moment I told him, “I want that t-shirt too.” I sighed heavily, staring at the mirror. I remembered that moment like it was a couple weeks ago.

After realizing it was getting late, I threw on a jacket and then headed to work. Now here I am, sitting in my cubicle, looking not-as-good-as-he-does in the t-shirt we both, you know, happen to own.

First, I reviewed the contents of the rest of the fridge, thinking maybe my yogurt had been moved to some other shelf. 

However, my search soon ended in vain, and I realized that the unthinkable had occurred.  My nonfat, blueberry yogurt was sitting comfortably in someone else’s tummy!  I knew what I had to do. I took a casual stroll around the office to review the contents of everyone’s trash bin.  I soon found the culprit – the empty yogurt container was in the first bin I passed to get back to my cubicle.  Torn between confrontation and passive resistance, I sat down at my cubicle to think about how to approach such a, dare I say, awkward, situation. I imagined many scenarios.   Confrontation Scenario 1:

Me: Hello! I notice you have eaten my organic, nonfat, blueberry yogurt.
Him: Yeah, what of it?
Me: Uh, nothing, I just wanted to let you know I’m very observant. 

This scenario was awful. I promptly imagined another.  Confrontation Scenario 2:
Me: Hey, uh, I’m sorry. There seems to have been some confusion.  I probably should have labeled my yogurt, but I’ve been eating it every day for the past two years, so I thought every one here knew that was my yogurt.
Him: Wow.
Me: Yeah, so, it’s no biggie, but I’d appreciate you not eating it again.
Him: There’s other yogurt in the fridge.
Me: I can’t just eat other people’s yogurt. What is wrong with you?  

 This scenario was an improvement, but then I thought about emailing the entire office.  Confrontation Scenario 3:  

Dear Office,  Every day my mom packs me a lunch of fruit and organic, nonfat blueberry yogurt.  She puts a lot of time into picking out a fresh container of yogurt for me, and it is very important that I eat it.  It is delicious, it ensures timely bowel movement, and it provides me with my much needed doses of calcium and vitamin D.  (Insert picture of the yogurt.) So you see, when you eat my yogurt, you’re not just eating my food. You’re killing me slowly.  

This scenario was a tad extreme. I decided against it.   On Thursday, I ate my yogurt first thing in the morning, so no one could eat it before me.  Then, when a co-worker casually asked me what I was having for lunch, I said loudly, “I eat yogurt for lunch everyday!”  The co-worker stared. I continued, “Yup! Blueberry yogurt!”
The co-worker looked around: “Okay. Uh do you eat anything else?” 

I replied, still articulating loudly, “Sure sure, but the nonfat, organic, blueberry yogurt happens EVERY DAY.”