but she’s got my back when it comes to footwear.
Category: THANKS, MOM.
Um ok, Mom…

currently awaiting an explanation as to WTF this means
Making plans at 5:30 AM to meet up with my mom in D.C….
over the phone as we both make our way to our respective airports:
Mom: “Are you bringing your yoga pants?”
Me: “I mean… those are all I ever wear, so, yes, but I don’t intend to do yoga or any other form of exercise in them.”
Mom: “OK. I’m really cutting it close!”
Me: “No you’re not. You have 3 hours until your flight.”
Mom: “Ok, so after we both land, we’ll meet in the Delta terminal.”
Me: “OK–”
Mom: “–or do you want us to meet you at American?”
Me: “No, that’s fine, I’ll find Delta. We all have cell phones, so if all else fails…”
Mom: “Well I’m just thinking if they die [CHARGERS, MOM. CHARGERS]. OK so worst case scenario, we will just meet at Delta.”
Me: “.. Yep”
Mom: “And then we’ll grab a cab.”
Me: “Or we could Uber.”
Mom: “We could… There was a really scary story about two Uber drivers in Denver who raped someone and afterwards Uber was like, ‘they weren’t with us–they did NOT register like you’re supposed to.'”
Me: “… Thanks, Mom. Way to bring it down.”
And so it continues…
with my Starbucks stalker who is from Dubai. As you may or may not recall, I had the misfortune of meeting this guy a few weeks ago and failed at saying no when he asked for my number. Since then, I’ve become one murder-in-an-alley-with-body-parts-chopped-up-and-subsequently-dispersed-geographically-within-a-few-mile-radius away from becoming a cautionary tale. I’ve gotten the below texts from him, so I photographed them in their various stages, because I want you to feel the same Jaws theme-worthy, dreadful anticipation as you view them that I did in real time. Per my mother’s suggestion, I saved his # as “DO NOT ANSWER” as a would-be helpful reminder. But it turns out that being jolted by the sound of a text message while simultaneously looking down to see “DO NOT ANSWER” glaring at me menacingly, while I’m alone in the dark on the living room floor of my apartment and what I’m doing there isn’t important, is actually completely terrifying. So, once again, thanks, Mom.

*Perhaps the most menacing of them all, this appears to be a landscape orientation photograph of his head in silhouette as he lay on his bed. When I screen-shotted this to my mom, she aptly replied, “What is that?”
THANKS, MOM.
When you ask your mom for a small bit of help with your cancer research fundraising efforts and she sends you this email subject line. 👌
THANKS, MOM. 👌