I am Hannah...from Girls.

So it's been two weeks and my lady parts didn't get "the" call.

Thank fucking god.

Cause I really didn't want to have to leave this gem of a voicemail: "Oh hey... I know we haven't talked in months, buttttt I have HPV and I think its from a dude I had sex with before you, so that means you probably have it too... So yeah... Sorry about that..............You crushed my heart... Mmmmmmkay. Byeeeeeeee."

Watch my doctor call me tomorrow and be like, "Whoops, don't know how we missed this but you have every possible STD known to man. Oh, and we found remnants of some twisted Cheetos puffs circa 1999. No judgement but, ew."

Cause that's how my life works. Things will never happen the "normal" way for me. Seeing as I am not a "normal" person.

Am I complaining? Uh, yah.

It's just sooooooooooo much fun watching my life slowly become more and more like Hannah's life from "Girls."

Did I mention that I fell asleep on the F train... After getting hammered... and woke up in Queens plaza last Friday night?

I live nowhere near queens.

None of my shit was stolen, well nothing asides from my dignity, or more accurately, whatever was left of my dignity.

I threw up that night too. Like a lot. And naked. I threw up a lot while naked. Jealous?

Do you see the picture I am painting?! You don't want my life. Normality isn't overrated. Normality is fucking awesome. Something I'm never going to experience. Feel privileged, if you are one of the many "normal" ones.

Everyone is always like, "Ohmegawd! But your life is hilarious!!!! Lolololololol."

"Yeah. Cause it's not happening to you. Lololololol."

"But you're a writer. Don't you feel like it gives you so many great stories?"

"Maybe I don't want to write about these great stories. Maybe, I just want to write about unicorns and horses."

Side note: I don't want to write about unicorns and horses.

It's a weird place to be. Because you know both sides are right. And depending on that particular day, your opinion changes on the matter.

Associate producer from Dr. Oz contacts you to be on their show: You love not being "normal!"

Associate producer from Dr. Oz informs you they accidentally overbooked for that particular show: God dammit.

Meh, I'm complaining when I really shouldn't. There are moments where I'll catch myself going, "Whoa, this is cool." And then I'm are hurling into a toilet...naked.