"I Would Never Eat Avocado Toast Again If We Could
Live in a House Together & Smoke Weed on the Roof" by Kat Giordano

We’d get a really nice Persian rug to spread over the floor and it’d
be the only nice thing we’d own.


Every time we’d have a party our friends would have to sit on it
and we’d hover over them the whole night, making sure they used
napkins with their chips and salsa to catch the drippings.

If somebody passed out on it we’d gently lift their head up and
slide a washcloth underneath to catch any spit-up. The best parts
would be the mornings when everyone’d stumble out of the place
hungover and leave us by ourselves. We’d sigh with relief every
time, knowing we’d protected our rug yet again, both of us
secretly wishing we hadn't.


When I was 12 my parents got a new couch for the attic and it
was bright white and terrifying. The first thing I ever spilled on it
was Diet Barq’s Root Beer. I knocked it out of my crush’s hand
while trying to prevent him from seeing my selfies on the 2
megapixel Nikon my grandpop got me for Christmas. Later, I
took a photo with my eyes crossed and followed a Photoshop
tutorial to surround myself in realistic-looking pink bubbles.

It got a lot of likes on Facebook.


I used to only post pictures of myself with straightened hair but I
got over it after my aunt tagged me in a photo from Halloween
where my hair was wet and I was dressed like Popeye the Sailor.
Once something is dirty, I can get as many stains on it as I want.

I used to call you every night but now I just send a Bitmoji of
myself with a cat on my head.

I used to try and leave my bed by noon but now sometimes I
don’t leave it at all.

I used to only let myself eat perishables in my room but last week
I had Mini Wheats and left the bowl of milk on my dresser for
days until it grew a culture.


It’s the beginning of summer, one of the first yellow, sticky
afternoons, and from my spot on my paisley pink childhood
sheets I can hear the neighborhood kids fighting with each other.


I’m lying in bed at 4 PM with my hair still wrapped in a towel,
completing a Facebook quiz called, “What will your friends do
when you go missing?” I grant it permission to access my wall
and friends list, but it doesn’t load the page.