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turns out the swimsuit model from Miami isn’t bisexual. She’s monosexual…for women.”
But maybe this show is too much of a feminist wasteland for anything like that to even be possible.
“You’re like an antidepressant in human form,” I tell her.
Sierra says I’m indecisive, but I like to think I can make any meal tapas, so whatever person is willing to tolerate that might be my soul mate.
“The lock combo was—get this—90210. Is Mom old? Do we need to teach her about how to make good passwords or whatever?”
After crying through one of most delicious meals I’ve ever eaten,
It takes a certain kind of desperate to walk through a New York City apartment building barefoot, but I did not need to add climbing four flights of stairs in the tallest heels I own to my growing list of struggles today.
