On my first ocean fishing trip, my good friend Elaine captured this iPhone photo of me and my first catch ever:

I was proud of him even though I had to throw him back and was told that he wasn’t even big enough to make a fish taco. That is, I was proud until the guy right next to me caught this fish within seconds of mine:

To make matters worse, immediately after this photo was snapped, the big fish squirmed away from the guy. It landed on the deck of the boat. Then it threw up a fish the size of my fish right at my feet. That’s right, folks. His fish eats fish like mine for breakfast.

 

Which leads me to other things I’m not proud of:

– I once hitch hiked on the Jersey Turnpike with an ex boyfriend when our car ran out of gas. The guy who gave us a ride was super creepy.

– I threw away Kosta’s favorite sweatpants because they had become ratty. I think he’s still looking for them.

– I once took a photo with Eli Manning.

– I split my pants at a wedding climbing over a sea wall in La Jolla last year. I was wearing hot pink underwear. Thankfully I had something with me to cover up my bum the rest of the night.

– That was not the first time I had split my pants. I thought I had a little butt!?

– I have cried through every episode of Extreme Makeover Home Edition I ever saw.

– I make everything into a competition. Whoever-finds-the-gluten-free-soy-sauce-on-the-grocery-store-shelf-first-wins! Ready, GO!

– And I will fight you over getting to be the hot pink ball in miniature golf. Classy, I know.