Chivalry is alive and well.

At Starbucks this morning, two other people were just ahead of me. The man gallantly opened the door for the woman, and made an exaggerated, jokey proclamation of being chivalrous. And then he unknowingly closed the door in my face.


Part of me is still convinced that my 7-year-old self was right and this IS the best song of all time.


For those of you whose minds burn with the question “who is Amy Borton?,” here is the easiest answer.


Get your popcorn! Get your hot dog!

At work today, I was explaining what a concession stand is to two seven-year-olds.

Girl: Do they sell snacks?
Me: Yep
Girl: Do they sell souvenirs?
Me: Sometimes
Boy: Do they sell butt cheeks?


Family bonding time includes sharing the best jokes we play on our significant others, AKA demonstrating why Bortons are the worst.



Come along, Bort. [x]


Take me seriously.

From what I hope was the everything bagel I had for breakfast today, I just found two poppy seeds in my belly button.

Wait… no, three poppy seeds.



Saturday Night Fever.

Sorry, can’t hang out tonight. Gotsta spend almost 2 hours reading up on Prussian history for no reason whatsoever.



After two minor-but-still-disconcerting “episodes,” I visited the ol’ M.D. and, although extremely grateful it is not anything serious, I am NOT pleased to tell you that I’ve been diagnosed with the lamest medical issue ever.* It ALMOST brings me one step closer to fulfilling my dream of being like my favorite character from Arrested Development, except it is the wrong Lucille. Hmph.


*You’re welcome for that unnecessary run-on sentence.