"I do graph theory." I say, assuming by his question that he knows something about math. "Oh!" he sounds excited, "So you're a sports mathematician?"

I wonder who is going to sit next to me. Will it be a hairy teen, a loose bouncy french woman, a talkative farmer, or a soulless statistician. It could be anyone. It feels like I am on the program 'The Good Place' waiting for my soul mate.

I have good pees and I have bad pees. And nobody comes down on me harder than I good when a pee doesn't go the way it should.

An open letter to the guy in Paris with the blue suit and the bag of apricots: You aren't better than me just because you have a bag of apricots.

"Wow, you girls killed those cherries!" I yell. And why not yell? No one listens to me anyways. But I guess Lisa did this time.

Service on the plane is great. They have mango juice. My review of Etihad: shitty website, great planes and service.

Student 1: Hey, you know that bald professor? Student 2: The foreigner? Student 1: No, the other one.

He deals out the cards, and the first one is very clearly the Death card. "What does that mean?" I ask, a bit concerned.