Don't Be Early To The Party

9:02 pm

Check email.

9:15 pm

Watch “Charlie Bit Me” video on YouTube.

9:25 pm

Check email.

9:26 pm

Microwave a couple of frozen pizza bites, so you won’t be hungry all night.

9:45 pm

Send “Charlie Bit Me” video to some friends who might be interested. Ask if any of them are going to party. They might.

10:00 pm

Talk about “Charlie Bit Me” with one of them for a while. Say things like “CHAR-lie” and “he bit me!”

10:15 pm

Check email.

10:16 pm

Look at the Facebook page of that guy you liked for a while who was probably really into you before he moved to Guam.

10:24 pm

Notice how skinny his current girlfriend is.

10:25 pm

Do a few crunches.

10:30 pm

Feel sheepish, report crunch-doing to friend via AIM. Ask if she’s going to party. She isn’t.

10:45 pm

Discuss sorry state of feminism with said friend.

11:00 pm

Microwave a few more empowering frozen pizza bites.

11:10 pm

Check email.

11:14 pm

Click on YouTube link mom sent you in her latest email to the “Mom Song” sung to the tune of the William Tell Overture.

11:23 pm

Send “Mom Song” link to friends on AIM, with message “my mom sent me this. Ha.”

11:27 pm

Feel a little guilty, consider calling mom to tell her you love her.

11:28 pm

Write note to self to call her on Sunday.

11:30 pm

Finish off box of pizza bites.

11:40 pm

Discard box with small sense of accomplishment. Empty garbage and put it in a new trash bag.

11:43 pm

Check email.

11:44 pm

Text to see if anyone is not online because they’re already at the party. They are, but people are starting to leave. Check time. Notice it’s getting late.

11:46 pm

Text friend to tell him you’re just gonna have an early night.

11:47-4:13 am

Nonsense.

4:13 am

Sleep.

Brain teaser.

You are driving a bus.

Three people alight.

The swirling fans of autumn surround them

As they move out among the pear-cheeked babes

And dogs with rabes

(six more step off)

And sticky stacks of newspap’ packs

And strolling cars

And men from Mars

And girls with weights on roller skates.

The light is red.

Four more aboard.

Their leaden bags are gnawing thoughts

As they move down past taken seats

A man that reeks,

(and nine step on)

A mother’s legs and ciggy dregs

An apple core

Upon the floor

Here ends the wait, they hesitate

For some unseemly puddle on the seat.

A dozen on,

A dozen off,

This man will drink,

That man will cough.

At midnight comes a quiet bliss,

And youngster now I ask you this:

What color are the bus driver’s eyes?

I'm formulating my thoughts on true love...

unless you voters give me a reason not to.

In the meantime...

Dear Sir/Madam;

I am writing to apply for the position of Analyst, which you posted on My friend Greg told me about it. Because of my many years of experience in analyzing things, I believe that I am an excellent candidate for this position.

As a senior citizen for over 3 years, I demonstrated my excellent attention to detail, strong communication skills and fantastic swaddling and analyzing skills. My supervisors called me Grandma, and entrusted me with such independent tasks as taking Charlie and Emma to the zoo. These experiences have given me the skills needed to excel in this position.

Please strongly consider my application and contact me if you have any other questions. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth “Grandma Lizzie” Ackerson

Cover Love-Letter to a Prospective Employer

Dearest Hiring Manager,

My lips trembled when I saw your posting for the position of Administrative/Editorial Assistant. Alas, I have been rejected time and time again, and I find myself as a thirsty woman in the desert, clinging to the cactus that is Random House. Though I have striven to repel the impulses that lead me to compose this cover letter, even now I am pulled onward, onward by the thought of the retirement plan you may one day grant me. Health benefits aside, my loins ache for the chance to have my very own cubicle, where I could display a portrait of your holy visage, until Human Resources asked me to take it down.

I am attaching a list of the inane activities I have heretofore used to distract myself from you, my one and only love, whose name drips like honey from the tip of my tongue: Hiring Manager.

With my undying love,

Pancake Lady

XOXOXOXO

Introducing: Our Hero

Rising from the smoke, his blue tie askew, with rumpled suit and gleaming eyes, he is: the Superdelegate.