Derek

I like, shouldn't even be telling you this, but the thing is that i don't even know if there is a You, but I can only assume there is (I mean, I've learned from the past, and not much I ever do stays behind the scenes. People. Will. Talk. Soon enough.) - I'm like Julia Allison that way, so I'm guessing that pretty soon all of these will be looked at under a microscope. Which I will keep in mind, and edit accordingly, but what is a blog if i can't dish a little bit and be myself? I'm sure you would see through it if I just, like, talked about good movies or the new fall line or something. Which I will do. But right now I'm fucking obsessed with what derek said. And his name isn't derek, I know better than to use real names. But derek almost is ruining this story, because I knew a derek in high school who was disgusting (isn't that so awful when someone gross ruins your idea of a name? especially when it's a pretty name. And like, your friend or aunt names their baby that name, and you're like "it's pretty, it's a pretty name, but I knew someone years ago with that name, and they were fucking disgusting, and that's what i think of when i look at your infant." The name Emily. I think it's really pretty, but there was this loser girl that smelled so bad and never did anything about it I knew in grade school, and I could never name my daughter that. Or even a dog. Such a bummer.)
Anyways, okay, his name is Doug. (it's not doug, but that's better than Derek. Sick)
So he was getting long sleeved t-shirts for our group for the breast cancer walk (Support, People! You know you know someone ... who knows someone). And he g-chatted me and said "what size do you want?" and I said "probably a small?" ... because, like, I'm thin, but I wasn't sure if there were like, tiny women sizes - you know how those cheap t-shirts are sometimes like all men's sizes so smalls are really big, or maybe they are women's and the smalls are like for children- and I'm 5'10" almost 5'11", so I don't want to have this obnoxiously small t at a breast cancer walk, you know? But I figure Doug can figure it out. So ... later on we were all getting drinks at some disgusting, like, bar that smelled like college and I was so not into it (the kind of place where you don't even think about ordering wine because you know it's like, 2 buck chuck or something, and it's been opened since the last asshole ordered a glass of "chardonnay or something" two weeks ago) (I got a gin martini, with a twist, you can't really fuck that up too bad, although the guy pulled the lemon off the rind to make the twist with his bare hands and so i almost gagged, but thought maybe the alcohol might kill some of his east village germs). Anyways. Doug says, "Brie, I still didn't get you a shirt yet" And i'm like "why, retard?" and he's like -- hold on, i'm going to write this out like a play:
D:"what size should I get?
Me "are you serious? I don't know! I don't really care, just get me a small or a medium or something!"
D:"really? don't you like, have long arms?"
Me: Um, I'm tall, but i'm not like a giant-freak. Tall girls are still size small. Hello, ... models!?
D: Well, I was going to get you an extra large.
Me: (laughing) ha ha
D: (serious)
Me: What?! you were going to get me a size extra-large?
D: Well, you're tall, and, I don't know, don't you want the sleeves to be long enough?
Me: Whoa, you are so freaking weird. Okay, girls do not care about sleeve length if it would mean that the torso is huge. Even girls who are size xxlarge would not want a guy to buy them an xtra large.

And it went on. Do you believe that? I would have died if he handed out all our t-shirts one day, and he had gotten me an extra large! Wow. I . Would. have. Died.

Doug. now that name is ruined for me too.