personal space.

hey lady, i don’t mean to be rude (lies), but if you don’t back the hell away from me, immediately, i’m going to have a panic attack and be forced to kick you in the virginia. 

i don’t know what has caused the sudden uprise in people crowding around and touching me while in public, but it’s starting to make me feel like a psycho. i’m not sure if i’ve started emitting “stand on top of me, breathe on me, and if it’s not too much trouble go ahead and touch me, stranger” pheromones or something, but i can’t seem to shop, eat, or buy groceries without randars invading my personal space. as a general rule of thumb, i would prefer if all strangers stayed as far away from me as humanly possible (unless said stranger is of the tall, dark, and handsome variety and meets the criteria mentioned in the “boyfriend application”, in which case i would prefer that aforementioned individual actually stands as close to me as humanly possible while shucking out hundred dollar bills in the general direction of the nearest pair of shoes). recently, i was shopping, looking at accessories, when a lady came up behind me, reached around my body, mexi-hold style, and starting checking out a pair of fugly feather earrings somewhere around my bellybutton region. really bitch? you can’t wait 37 seconds for me to decide that these earrings are gross as shit and move? you want my body? i get it, woman; everybody loves me, but you are a stranger. everyone knows that strangers don’t wash their hands after using the potty. or how about at the grocery store when i am trying to check out and you ram me with your basket and then literally breathe down my neck while i’m trying to pay? are you trying to steal the pin on my debit card (i can assure you, if there is money in my account it won’t be there for long), you wanna go halfsies on a bunch of bananas or are you hoping to get to second base in publix? whichever way, hate to break it to you, i’m not interested (see above for “unless stranger is of the tall dark and handsome variety...”). although i’ve found that looking at the invasive individual and simply saying, “is this real life?” works quite well, i am forced to consider more drastic alternatives as you people just can’t get enough of my lovely lady lumps. although i’ve been told that holding ones arms straight out to the sides and spinning in a large circle not only clears an area in width approximately equal to your own height of any bystanders who may be too close, but also defines clear personal space parameters, i believe there is a more effective solution to this common problem. the next time i go out, i’m taping a sign to my back that reads: “massive, explosive diarrhea. please stay back”. i’ve learned that poop is always the best way out of uncomfortable or unwelcome social situations (thanks, bronwyn/lindsey). 

in conclusion, unless you are a bestie or a sexy man please stay away from me and my kitty cat as we are no more fond of strangers touching us than we are of heinous footwear. 

if you're close enough to know whether or not i'm fresh, you're too damn close.

of course, i can't talk about personal space without my good friend luuuuuuuda!