is that cornbread I smell? I think I smell cornbread...

I don't even know. You don't even know. 

I have this thing I do, and it’s called “Naming My Autobiography In Everyday Conversation.” I also like to make everything into the title of any sort of book. It’s a pretty annoying habit, but it can be entertaining when the timing is right. For example, just now my roommate had a boy over (not unusual biznat). So I reintroduced myself to this boy, who in this story we will call Dave. You see, Dave and I had met before, but he didn't remember.

I’ve discovered that since being on the yearbook staff in high school, I have been cursed with a sore cursing. I remember everyone and nobody remembers me. If you do remember who I am, it’s only because I did something embarrassing or said something embarrassing to you which made you feel embarrassed for me, and now that feeling of humiliation has been stamped on your brain forever. “Oh look at that poor blogger who once bled all over her pants and then her tween-crush saw her in that awful state, oh the poor, poor blogger lady.” See what I mean?

So the point is, I said to Dave, “Hi Dave. We’ve met before.”

Dave: “We have?”

Me: “Yes.” (isn’t this riveting)

Dave: “Are you the couch girl?”

Me: ‘I’m sorry?”

Dave: “You’re the girl that was on the couch that one time.”

Me: ????????????? (pretending like I don’t remember but if anybody deserves the title “Couch Girl” it’s probably me, and I guarantee you I wasn’t wearing a bra that time either)

Dave: “I’m pretty sure it was you.”

Oh great, I’m thinking. He only remembers me as couch girl. The girl who is constantly invalid and probably has to have her fruits and veggies blended up to the consistency of Gerber baby paste and fed through a tube while she watches Office reruns through her thick bifocals because her sight has gotten terrible because she never looks at anything besides a computer screen because she is COUCH GIRL. 

So I said the only thing I could think of in that moment which was, “Yeah. It’s me, ‘The Girl Who Was On The Couch That One Time: An Autobiography.” He looked perplexed. I finished tying my shoes and walked away. 

I have been naming my autobiography for the past year. And now you can too. Simply chime in with “An Autobiography: By Me” anytime someone says a phrase that you feel personifies your life. 

To help get you started, I’ve compiled a short(?) list of my current ideas. The list keeps growing. help. I’M ONLY 24. When I’m 80 it’ll probably say stuff like “I Went On Thunder Mountain and Peed A Little” but it will still be true.  Just different, is all.

p.s. all of these are straight-up excerpts from my journal circa 2014. I just capitalized the words and made them into book titles. SHA-BOOM.

• I Used My Roomate's Razor Because I Left Mine in My Room & Now My Legs Are Itchy Do You Think This is Karma Rash?
• On A Scale from One to Making a Mixed Tape How Serious Is This Relationship?
• I'm Pretty Interested In Eating A Lot of Bread
• I Should Probably Do It But I Really Don't Want To
• I Burned My Mouth On A Hot Roll Because I Was So Hungry, Not Because I'm Hardcore
• Work, Cry, Bike, Food, Cry Some Mo' (the entire journal entry was this sentence. NO CHISME)
• I Took A Nap at 10:30pm #WishIWasJoking
• The Ratio of Dark Chocolate Covered Pretzels I Have Eaten to Number of Tears I Have Cried is DIRECTLY Related. What A Dumb Sentence.
• Life Would Be So Much Easier If I Was a Raccoon Who Dropped Smooth Jazz Albums For A Living <-- this is gonna become a doodle. mark my wordzz

I'm on a horse. ...or is that a donkey..??? gUYS WHAT are AnimaLS EVen