Conversations lately...


(driving with Sam and "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton comes on my iPod)
Me (in all seriousness): This song is making a comeback.
Sam (with 'tude): Yeah...in our cars.

Cheryl: Did you get my email?
Me: Yes, it was brutally honest. I'm pretty sure your hand came out of my computer screen and slapped me across the face, but I needed that.

Me: If I pile all of the blankets from my bed on top of me, it feels like there's a person on me. You know, like that quote from Sex & the City about just needing a man on top of you? Not in a sexual way.
Sam (laughing hysterically): I can't believe you just said that.
Me: It's true.

(after an intense lunch convo about how depressed we are)
Cheryl: I'm taking away your scissors.

Heather: I was just at an audit near your office.
Me: You should have stopped by. I was figuring out the best way to jump out of my first-story window and really make it count.

(reading a news headline)
Me: There's a bus-size asteroid that is going to give Earth a close shave.
Cheryl: Good, maybe it will take us all out.

(joking about a guy in one of her classes)
Hilary: He has a southern accent.
Me: Oh my god, ask him what he likes for breakfast so I can make it for him when he sleeps over.
Hilary: That's the perfect ice breaker.
Me: You can also tell him I think fall is a perfect time for a wedding.
Hilary: You can have a southern wedding.
Me: Yess! I'm hoping to be pregnant by then.
Hilary: Good idea, then he'll have to marry you. No southern guy knocks a girl up and doesn't marry her.
Me: I bet his parents are Republican; his mom is really into charity work, and his dad hunts.

(still joking the next day about the guy in her class)
Hilary: His accent is REALLY southern.
Me: Oh no, like Louisiana southern?
Hilary: Not ignorant southern, just twangy.
Me: Those are perfect descriptions. We can still get married.

Me: I liked him with a beard. I don't know, he just looked so...warm.
Sam: You know, I was thi--wait, did you just say he looked warm??
Me: He did! Like a bear.

Sam: He's going to ride out there with us.
Me (pauses): But I gotta rap in the car!

Cheryl: Does she have a boyfriend?
Me: No, she's a loser.
Cheryl: Oh.
Me: ...that was mean.
Cheryl: Notice how I wasn't surprised.
(I'm going to miss you, beetch)