17 posts tagged “thank you”

So somewhere down the line I started having a lot of people follow this blog who live in Texas. In fact, right behind New York and Los Angeles, the majority of my readers live there.

So, HEY YOU GUYS! HEY TEXAS! Thanks for reading! 

As soon as I am in the position to travel more, I want to come visit your gigantic state and party all over it. 

It's where Beyonce is from, ya know. And Anna Nicole. 

OMG, if someone from Mexia started reading this blog, I would freakin' die. 

Made for me by the talented and awesome Tara Marie. 

...but that's for real my email inbox. If I haven't responded to your email yet, I pinky swear I'm not a cunt. Just hang in there and in the meantime, listen to one of my all time faves. 

This will make you feel so much better than anything I can put in to writing:

Don't you feel better and less ignored? I hope so. I'm sorry. Some of you write me emails that change my entire day because they are so positive and caring and like... really real. A lot of times I read them on my Blackberry when I'm out at the bar crying about a boy or something, so trust me, they get to me, I just don't always have the will to write back with the tiny keypad and then by the time I get home your email has been buried in 100 other emails. 

So for real: email me. I read them all. If I don't respond it's because you either totally offended me (that's happened like... once) or were so nice that you blew me away and I wanted to give you a proper response but then forgot because like 20 other things happened and then I got all flustered and flakey. And honestly, some of you really have given me a lot of hope for the universe. So like, yeah... Especially you high school girls. I don't know how you find me, but I love that you're here. Also, I didn't drink or smoke pot until I got to college, so don't be some drug-head booze hound like me because you think it's the way to be. It's not. This is what happens when you spend the first 19 years of your life sitting on your hands, being afraid of your mother and trying hard in school and extra curriculars. Your day to guzzle cheap wine until 4 AM will come, but after a lot of hard work and actually acquiring reasons to make drinking worth the inevitable weight gain, hang overs and potential social embarrassment. 

But yeah, the emails. They're great. Thanks. 

Hey, I really hope you didn't lose the receipt you had me write my information on and if you did, that you have a Google-savvy son. 

I got you your Ellen tickets through my web-bro Delbert Shoopman (yeah, that's really his name and yeah, I'm for seriously real with you about having the Ellen tickets for you if you can fly yourself to LA/Burbank and put yourself up for a night or two.)

Anyway, email me: mollymcaleer@gmail.com. 

So, you guys, I took Best Newcomer Boner in the Bonie Awards, run by my most favorite blog beside Hipster Runoff, Boner Party!

I honestly never thought I'd beat Megan Fox or Joan from Mad Men in any contest ever, even when I have the internet on my side, so I made a video to say how thankful I am for you guys tossing some votes my way.

When I'm packing my shit to move home to Boston in three months, I will remember that I won this and LA won't seem like such a wash. (Jokes? Am I telling jokes? Who knows?!?!?!)

So, I've been sitting here in sunglasses for hours, I don't know why. I put them on to see how they felt on my face and I forgot.

For the last half hour I have been doing disgusting things to the brownies that my number one supporter (who's not my mom) Lorraine sent me in the mail. They are from a store in Akron called West Point Market and they are the best brownies I've ever had in my life.

If you're going to send baked goods over the holidays, send them from a place like this over 1-800-Flowers or something. I dunno, the idea of brownies from 1-800-Flowers makes me nervous.

Anyway, thank you again, Lorraine. If I haven't jammed my spit-covered fingers in all of them before I see Alexis tonight, she just may get one, too.

Thanks for talking me off the ledge about my eye cancer, Justine. You made awesome points including:

1) This has never happened before in pictures (I pointed out that I blatantly photograph myself daily, more or less)
2) Eyes are wet and shiny thus they often appear glossy in photographs.
3) I'm apparently too old for this condition. It mainly appears in children.

I don't have eye cancer, you guys.

I'm going to keep telling myself that.

I just took this picture of myself looking like a freakin' boy in my bathroom in the dark with the brightest flash so I could show you all that I don't have eye cancer.

Thank you to everyone who sent me emails, Facebook messages and hell, even joined this blogging service so that they could warn me that I was about to die. I somehow highly doubt that they offer chemotherapy at Planned Parenthood. Frankly, it would ruin the rest of my short life to think of the medical bills, so I really would just rather ride this shit out and start feeling really crazy one day and pass out and hit my head and die and have everyone find out that it was because of a tumor AFTER the fact because all we're going to do up until then is cry a lot and clip coupons.

I ask you to take this stance in to consideration when pondering whether or not to email me warning me that the new mole on my arm looks strange. I'm mental and I don't need you freaking me out. A stronger person would take it as concern and help, but I am weak and helpless when it comes to things like numbers, filling out paperwork, showing up to my chemo on time and remembering to take a million pills a day.