After creating quite the surprise in my class by eating chips with chopsticks, my friend gently asks, "Tiffany...I don't mean to be racist, but do you own any forks in your house, or only chopsticks?"
Yes, I do own forks.
But the ratio of pairs of chopsticks to forks is around 4:1.
My best friend and I finally have the talk most people have been having--where do we move to if Trump becomes president?
1. She says Canada.
I'd rather get off the continent entirely.
"But..." she smiles at me. "The Canadian prime minister is cute!"
2. I hear Switzerland is a good place to go.
"I don't like Swiss cheese." She says, adamantly.
3. Japanese countryside?
"Mountain or plains?"
Mountains are nice, I nod.
"If we're talking about mountains, then let's go for the Hokkaido region. They have good ice cream."
I'd say we have some good options on our hands.
As I sit on one of the couches at my school, I hear the sounds of a baby crying down the hall. Just moments later, my classmate comes into sight, pushing a baby carriage. He frowns and looks down at the carriage, reaching a hand into the carriage and spanking the child. "Shh!"
He continues his walk down the hallway, as we gawk at him and the baby carriage having nothing inside but his phone, playing sounds of a crying baby.
As my classmate explains his fine art project to a friend, a commercial-focused friend starts sneezing nearby and turns to me frowning, "I'm allergic to bullshit."
"Are you cold?" My friend asks my on the way home from our photoshoot. "Are you tired? Do you want some chocolate milk?"
"Why do you have chocolate milk?" Our other friend asks.
"Why don't you have chocolate milk?"
I thought it was the most inspiring thing I'd heard all day.
I have always been told that my sneeze sounds like a dog being stepped on.
My friends know that well, and upon my last photoshoot with one of my friends, I turn away from him to sneeze. When I turn back around he sings quietly--so quietly I almost missed it--"Who Let the Dogs Out."
Well, woof.
