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Fan Fiction: A Day In The Life Of Your Standard Manic Pixie Dream Girl

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You guys know about the Manic Pixie Dream Girl phenomenon, right? Think Zooey Deschanel in 500 Days of Summer or Natalie Portman in Garden State (minus the epilepsy). Without much personality detail or access to their internal monologues, these characters usually work as ciphers that the protagonist can project his emotional baggage onto. But what happens to the manic pixie girl when you're not around to play with her?

8:00 a.m. Alarm goes off. Snooze by throwing Converse sneaker at clock. Works every time. It's a red sneaker too, d'oi.

10:00 a.m. Get up and brush teeth while shaking butt and jumping up and down to new Ted Leo album. Hop around on one foot, grin at the mirror.

11:00 a.m. Go to work at coffee shop. Best job ever because I don't really have to do anything and get paid well enough to afford giant studio in the middle of the city. Think about my last job as a secretary at a quirky boutique firm. That place sucked.

12:30 p.m. Shy boy with hair in his eyes has been scribbling in his notebook for awhile now. Keeps sighing and looking out the window. He seems really deep. I wonder if he wants to go on an adventure to that abandoned Silly Putty factory I heard about.

1:30 p.m. Best friend stops by. She is so loud and wacky! We have lunch. I wiggle my toes. We have fun.

2:30 p.m. Cute guy with a guitar on his back orders an espresso and I overflow the machine again! So embarrassed. This happens every time!

2:45 p.m. OMG I think I'm in love. Cute guitar boy (CGB!) asks me to go to an abandoned Silly Putty factory he just heard about! Is it fate? I say yes, but not before I check his sign. Virgo. <3 <3 <3

3:25 p.m. Boy and I definitely falling in love. He plays me a song on his guitar that he just wrote for me. I tell him about my dad dying when I was 10 and how I've never been able to trust men that I date.

4:00 p.m. Time for my medication but you know what screw it I don't need the pills and I don't need this job! Boy and I meet up and decide to head out early so we'll have time for a quick game of paintball in the park. Fuck you, Dr. Wienstein, I'm not coming in today!

4:50 p.m. Paint is all over my clothing! Guitar boy and I have so much fun! Life is awesome!

5:20 p.m. Crying jag.

5:25 p.m. Tell guitar boy that I think I might be in love with him. We go to a convenience store where he distracts the cashier and I grab a six-pack of beer. We run out laughing and holding hands. Fun!

6:00 p.m. Can't actually remember where this Silly Putty factory is but my boyfriend says it doesn't matter he has a friend named Tango that's holding an ounce for him. “An ounce of what?” I ask. He laughs and we kiss. Also it is raining. Magic.

6:30 p.m. Tango's house smells bad. It's dark in here and I don't like it.

6:45 p.m. Crying jag.

7:00 p.m. Boyfriend keeps knocking on door telling me I have to get out of the bathroom and he's leaving so if I want a ride home I better shake my ass. Decide to climb out window instead. The walls are melting.

7:30 p.m. I'm okay I'm okay I'm okay I'm okay I'm okay I'm okay.

8:15 p.m. Walked home in the rain. Would anyone even miss me if I'm gone? Pull out all the pills from my drawer, contemplate suicide. But then who will take care of my chinchillas? Decide to knit something instead.

9:00 p.m. Go out for some alphabet soup at diner. Waitress says they don't make soup with alphabet letters in them but I can have chicken soup. Have to explain that I don't eat soup unless I can spell my name on a spoon. Notice shy boy from this afternoon sitting in corner booth. Still writing stuff. He must be so smart!

9:15 p.m. Tell waitress I'll cut myself if she doesn't bring me my soup along with a strawberry milkshake. Boy didn't even look in my direction when he got up to leave! Today is the worst!

9:45 p.m. Home again. Put on old French records, finish bottle of rum I was saving. I'm going to give away all my clothing to Goodwill tomorrow. Start fresh! Get a new job! Tonight I'll just make a fire and snuggle down on my couch.

10:10 p.m. Sit in bathroom with fire that I made by dumping my old poetry books and diary into bathtub and pouring lighter fluid on top. Toasty! Phone rings!

10:12 p.m. Someone tells me to go look outside. Now what?

10:20 p.m. Oh my gosh! Cute shy boy is standing at my door, holding a dozen paper mache roses! I tell him that I'd invite him up, but there's a couple fires I need to put out first. We laugh and I kiss him. We run out into the street. Cute shy guy (CSG!) asks if I heard of the run-down Silly Putty factory near here. OMG!

11:45 p.m. Oh god the blood there's blood everywhere I don't think it's mine oh jesus christ what did I do? I just need to get home and think for a minute. Are those sirens?

12:00 p.m. Apartment not on fire. Poetry books still on bookcase. WTF? Can't think straight. What.

8:00 a.m. Alarm goes off. Snooze by throwing Converse sneaker at clock. Works every time. It's a red sneaker too, d'oi.

UPDATE: Sarah Palin Retweets Us. Then Deletes Us.

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