Gaby Dunn

I’d sit at the front desk of my motel and drink coffee from a Marlins mug and eat orange slices and watch the waves move back and forth.

You shot back at me, “I love you. I love you. What does that even mean to you? What does that mean?”

If you don’t have a heating pad for your cramps, you are not treating yourself right.

The study says that people are so overcome they can’t actually handle how this fluffy or adorable thing is making them feel.

Look, I like Spike but why are the show’s writers acting like he’s the only character everyone cares about?

They make fun of your clothing choices. Like, you get dressed, meet up with them and they say, “Oh man, is that what you’re wearing?” Yes. Because I am out of the house and outside this bar with you. So yeah, it’s what I’m wearing. Thanks for the self-consciousness.

Even if they said they wanted to be beside me, I’d start to feel guilty and probably suspect they’re only there out of obligation — or not wanting to look like the dirtbag who dumps the sick girl.

I remember watching this the first time around with many people romanticizing and squeeing over the Buffy and Spike relationship.

Maybe like Robert Johnson sang, you’re willing to sacrifice, to trade your soul or some freedoms or some other paths you could go down just to pick a side of the crossroads to trek down. 2013 is the time.

They will fight you, kicking and screaming, and still not realize they are in trouble.

Others were Infinite Jest-style burdens. Heavy on your back or in your purse. Weighing you down all the time.

You know the person you’re with is just not good enough for you but somehow that makes you feel powerful instead of shitty.