Hey, firecrackers! Welcome to another Friday Open Thread, in which we speak freely about misandrist collectives and then share pictures of our cats. I’m all in for pictures of dogs, stories of love lost and gained, and you bitching about your job. I’ll relate no matter what. My experiences are wide and varied. I contain multitudes.
I’ve really missed y’all! It’s been a while, hasn’t it. Seems like only yesterday I was here before embarking on my weird and wonderful trip to Philadelphia to watch Hillary Clinton make history, only that wasn’t yesterday, it was like two weeks ago, it’s just that lately I feel as if time is both moving at the speed of light and crawling through gridlock on the 110 at 9 AM. Tag yourself, I’m the one crawling through gridlock on the 110 at 9 AM screaming along to something on Spotify while I chain-smoke in my car.
In the short time since I last welcomed you all into my loving arms virtually in the comments of a FOT, I’ve bought about a zillion crop tops, a shopping cart’s worth of Smart Water, a snapback that says simply “MOOD,” some liters of Perrier that were on sale, a bag of granola and four greek yogurts, an inappropriate amount of Hillary Clinton merch that I’m still waiting on the edge of my seat for, and more milkshakes from In-N-Out than I wanna ‘fess up to. I’m also the proud owner of a crop top emblazoned with the words “AIN’T NO WIFEY,” but that wasn’t something I bought, it was something that arrived in an envelope to my office from our satellite office in DC simply because my brand game is so strong it’s felt by others across the country.
I’ve enjoyed my new favorite hobby, hemorrhaging money, but I’m also here to beg you — like outright just beg and plead with you — to make me stop shopping. Please make me stop shopping. Help, I can’t stop shopping. Somewhere along the way on this journey we call my life, the switch in my brain that used to make it impossible for me to even indulge in paying for coffee instead of making it for myself completely flipped and maybe even just straight-up disconnected from its wiring and now I find myself going into H&M to get a dress for a wedding (did I mention I’m going to a wedding tomorrow? A gay wedding! A gay wedding uniting two ‘straddlers forever in sin!) and coming out with a crop top and shorts, or going into Forever 21, AKA crop top central, to pick up something I ordered online and coming out with said snapback that says simply “MOOD” and three, duh, crop tops, like in addition to the item I picked up, which just so we’re all aware was a cropped pullover sweatshirts that says MIXED EMOTIONS on the hood. I’m probably gonna return it, though, only honestly if I return it I have to go back and who knows what’s gonna happen. Anything could happen! I could buy a baby pink varsity jacket! I could buy a bunch of sour candy!
I, Carmen Rios, do solemnly swear to stop shopping. Maybe. But only if you come on down and tell me about your life to distract me from the big, bad world of nice, neat, shiny things! So hop to it, little bunnies! I wanna know every little detail about your life, as per usual, because I’m madly in love with you. Let’s go!
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