Coworker treat fit for a queen (or scavenger).

My coworker was in town from LA last week for a special training. I teased her for eating a portion of a fun-sized bag of chips and then saving the rest for later because I'm pretty sure no adult human has ever been able to achieve such a feat.

Then I came to work on Monday and found that right before she left for her flight back home, she left me this delicious and ever-so-snarky treat on my keyboard.


But the joke is on her because I ate it. And paired with a banana, it was the tastiest and sneakiest breakfast I do believe I've had in a long time. Did I scavenge her scraps? A little. Am I cool with it? Yes ma'am I am.

I'm proud of my rooftop lunch today.

I know I regularly eat like a little kid. But I bet you didn't know that was pepperoni and pepperjack cheese hiding in that sandwich, did you?

No matter what you say, oh health-minded people, wheat bread is gross! Give me some hearty country cottage white and I'm a happy anna. (Don't worry about my impending obesity. The sandwich has miracle whip light on it.)

Fun with audio files!

1. So I went on a first date a while ago. You guys heard about it. But what you didn't hear was the voice message I got from the kindly gentleman the night before. I had called him from a concert, asking him if he wanted me to wear a tiara on our date the next day. The following was his reply. (*swoon!)

Download: Sweet caboose

2. You also remember the adorable voicemail I got from my friend Michael that was so precious it made my smile hurt from being stretched so far. Of course, being the sweet friend he is, he has not left me wanting for more. And neither shall I for you.

Download: Hello to you

Download: Germany to France to CA to urban straight guy

Thanks goes out to all of you patient downloaders and for the unfortunate males in my life whom I did not ask permission of to post these files. Sorry guys! Except not really.

Welcome to the House of Sunshine.

Listen. Listen to me! I moved. Into. A NEW APARTMENT.

Neens, I will try to be sensitive about your current debacle. But having been one of your besties for a good, oh, twenty to thirty years now, I know that not many can rival your insatiable Craiglist-scouring abilities. You, dearest wyfe, are an apartment-finding, web-searching, insta-emailing, house-touring force to be reckoned with.

But seriously. My first ever one-bedroom apartment is the sunniest, happiest place on earth.

You walk in and oh, you find yourself in a dainty little kitchen! There is a fridge displaying The Current magnets, a family Christmas photo, a recipe or two scattered about and a card that sings wishes of praise from an adoring gentleman caller. There is a sink, rarely donned with dirty dishes, and a perfectly sanitary covered garbage bin underneath. The drawers house kitchen supplies and neatly organized Tupperware (each piece complete with lid for ease of use).

Take a couple steps further and oh, you're in the dining/living room! There is a round wooden table for you to daintily sit or eat at (choice of four matching chairs) or a large green couch for you to rest your weary bones on. Perhaps you are too tired to read but not yet sleepy enough to retire for the evening. No problem - would you like to watch a movie? Open the top drawer of the dresser the TV is resting on and you shall find yourself a plethora of cinematic options. And of course, a swift look to your right will show you reading nook #1. Yes, you saw right, that chair nestled into the window nook is accompanied by its own book shelf, in case you wish to be reading but have reluctantly forgotten a book.

Ok we've spent enough time dilly dallying. Let's get down to business. Walk past the kitchen through the entryway and - gasp! - what is that you see? A bedroom! Look past the gigantic cloud bed on your left and you shall see an enormous built-in drawer system with so many drawers that you literally have two empty drawers that are just waiting for you to toss your crap into. And then, I know this will make your eyes a little misty, look to your right and you will see reading nook #2. Yes, that is a built-in actual nook! Made of wood, covered in cushions and blankets. Complete with backrest. It's an actual nook, made for actual reading, in an actual window. Believe it.

Now let us take a walk into the next room and you will find yourself a delightfully pristine bathroom, complete with a large shower whose stream reaches far beyond the width of your shoulders and starts high above even the tallest of humans. As you let the duck bath mat tickle your toesies, take a look at convenient full-length mirror on the wall, notice the stealthy cabinet mirror system, delight in the ceramic giraffe toothbrush holder, and gasp at the storage space in three corners of the bathroom allowing you to shelve three tiers of bathroom supplies, socks and undies, and even the vacuum cleaner for cripes sakes.

And there you have it. A walk through my House of Sunshine. I'm so happy you could take my tour on this, the second week of my living there. Come again, sire! Come again, m'lady!

Good day to you.

Even soldiers sleep on Spongebob sheets.

Goodbye Global Village. Sad day.

I'm glad I got to help them say goodbye a little.

Want to see a human brain?

In another installment of how my job can be substantially cool sometimes, look! Thanks to the nuns for letting us hang at their convent and the brain for letting me look at it with my camera.

I have the coolest job ever.

Got to edit and help shoot this piece of awesome.

My smile hurts.

And it hurts because I have been using it so much lately. Last night my friend Michael left me the best voicemail I have ever gotten in my life and I keep listening to it over and over. No less than 10 accents were used and it's 1:14 of pure hilarity and joy.

It just makes me so happy! It'll make you that happy too.

This may be an overshare.

I hate first kisses. They're awkward, they never work out, they make people so nervous they shake all over and drop things, when they don’t happen it’s disappointing, when they do happen it sometimes is still disappointing, and there is just no way – NO WAY – to make them happen smoothly. And if you tell me there is, then all I have to say to you is "It's nice to meet you Hugh Grant, may I have your autograph?".

(What I’m saying is, perfect first kisses only happen in the movies, people.)

Case and point. My first boyfriend and I went three months without kissing, and it's not like I was a bashful 12-year-old...I was 17. All of our friends knew about it and the anticipation built up so much that I would literally hurl my body out of his car and run to the house at full speed to avoid the awkwardness of the "thanks, I had a good time" conversation followed by anticipatory looks. Finally after three months I offered him a kiss on the cheek to which he said no, sending a shock through my entire system and making me stand there, stiff, outside of the car not knowing what to say or do. "Well can I kiss you on the mouth?" he said. "NO!" I said. Then he said fine, I could kiss him on the cheek, and when I went in for the innocent cheek kiss he turned his head at the last second to try to steal a full-on smooch, thus resulting in a complete disaster of him missing completely and two sides of lips mashing together and quickly being retracted back to their rightful place while looks of horror stretched across both our faces.

The slightest slip! There merest mishap! The tiniest tip of the head!

And it is ruined.

I know what you're thinking. Of all of these terrible situations I've been in, and there have been many, what’s the common denominator? It's me. I know. I get this. But I swear it’s not my fault. Almost all the dudes that have had the pleasure of my smooch have pretty much ruined the first one by missing, being too awkward, making terrible jokes, doing a bad job, or once – I even got the dreaded mom kiss. You know, the full-lipped completely non-sexual mom smooch. And I, at 24, still have as much difficulty with the first kiss as I always have. It just makes me shudder to think of all the ways it could go wrong, and to touch your lips to someone else’s for the first time seems like the ultimate showing of bravery to me. A bravery of which I have not yet conquered.

I feel bad for the kindly gentleman that I recently went on a date with. You would think after 11 hours of PG fun including the museum, batting cages, dinner, a live show, and a movie, the poor kid deserved one measly kiss when he walked me up to the front door. But what did he get? A handshake, an "I had a good time" and me staring at the ground until I awkwardly slow-motioned walked into the house. Sorry pal. It's not you – it's that I'm traumatized by the world’s eight to ten most awkward situations anyone has ever been in.

But the thing is – I think there's a solution. If you have to deal with people like this (like me), the best thing to do is sneak attack them. Get it over when they least expect it. You spare them the anticipation, the nervousness, the shakiness, and you will have officially gotten them over the hump. You will have allowed them to avoid being terrified about it, and you can both hopefully tell your kids about it someday.

And then mom smooch them afterward.