Lilibet Snellings
is writing in the third person.
hopes that someday she and her best girlfriends will outlive their husbands and move to Miami to live like The Golden Girls.
has never met a Gemini, a Canadian, or a person from Maryland she doesn’t like.
was once an assistant at a modeling agency. Getting models to go on castings is a skill she likens to herding domestic house cats.
realizes “domestic house cats” is redundant.
is terrified of what kids can do on computers these days. Doesn’t trust anyone under 12.
is fairly convinced the only people who read her writing are the editors who are paid to do so, and her grandparents, if she mails them a copy and writes a sweet note.
does a lot of ridiculous things to support herself while living as a freelance writer in Los Angeles; chief among them sitting in the giant glass box behind the concierge desk at The Standard Hotel, for seven hours at a time.
was once in an Alamo Rental Car commercial, but it was only on the Web. Was once in a Nike soccer ad, but only her legs. Was once on an episode of Entourage but only her elbow.
won a free-throw shooting contest in 4th grade making 9 out of 10 baskets. Got her picture in the local newspaper (small town, must have been a slow week for rabid raccoon sightings). Has been terrible at sports with teams and/or balls ever since. Excels at sports with no teams, and no balls.
still runs lots of miles most every day.
ran a marathon and actually quite enjoyed it.
once drove off with the gas nozzle still stuck in her car. *
her personal purgatory would be forever looking for her car in a never-ending parking garage with John Mayer’s “Your Body Is A Wonderland” playing on a loop.
hopes heaven is a giant breakfast buffet.
once drank an entire bottle of hot sauce for 500 dollars. Doesn’t suggest doing this. The burn is twice as bad on the way out as the way in.
wants to know how Bob Costas knows so much about so many different sports.
has always wanted to know: Who PUT the cat IN the bag?
really wants to know what the hell ever happened to The Food Pyramid.
used to find it wildly amusing when she was little and her brother would pretend he was retarded in public places, and, at, let’s say, KB Toy Store, or, Toys R Us, would throw himself on the ground screaming and flailing around until her sweet Southern mom had enough and would grab him by the arm and yell, “Get up! Get up, damnit!” and strangers would be like, “Oh what a horrible mother treating her retarded son like that.” (He was really good at this.)
is sorry if the above offended anyone.
is pretty sure flip cups (which on the East Coast we call “Cups”) was invented in her basement in 1993. If anyone has any evidence to the contrary, please let her know.
used to have a pet goldfish named Tuna until he popped**
has no idea how the Internet works. Would love for someone to explain it. And until someone does, is going to accept “it’s magic” as the explanation.
has no idea how dry cleaning works. Believes that it too is magical. Doesn’t really care for an explanation.
once had her credit card company ask if she was considering a new line of work.
has a lot of good stories.
hopes you read them someday.
*There are conflicting theories as to whose “fault” this actually was. There are four potential suspects: Me, because I was driving the car. Rachel, because she was pumping the gas. Katie, because it was her car. And Heather, because she accidentally forgot to pay for her bag of Fritos inside. The prevailing theory is that it was Heather’s fault because of Karma and all (we went to Boulder).
**There are no conflicting theories as to whose fault this was. While I was out of town, Heather (same Heather, bless her) my roommate at the time, was supposed to feed poor Tuna (R.I.P.) three flakes of food a day. Instead she fed him three handfuls of food a day. And he popped. Like actually exploded.
