Since 2005, I have committed a few faux pas on Facebook. I don’t think my sins will ever approach the gracelessness of a middle-aged mother on Facebook (that’s a jab at my own), but I am not some beacon of social media poise. I have accidentally poked, unintentionally shared, and once even tagged myself in a stranger’s profile picture. That last blunder may be most embarrassing moment – until last week.

I have known “Phil” for several years. We share the same friendship circle, see each other monthly, and have the rapport of managing elevator talk if we even communicate at all. However, by proximity, history, and mutual friends, I daresay we are more than acquaintances.

I have never stolen anything. Okay, I take that back, or else I wouldn’t be writing this post. I have never stolen anything intentionally.

In elementary school, I remember my mom took me to the Dollar Store, and I found some toy ball. Five minutes down the road later, I realize I’m still holding said ball and immediately shout, “I took the ball!” My mom insisted we return to the store and return the ball. At least she believed me that I hadn’t tried to steal it. Which was true. I hadn’t.

You might be wondering, what on earth could you possibly have left to say about weight loss, Sara? And that's a fair question. I want to talk about DietBet. 

For starters: What is DietBet?

DietBet is an app which allows users to pay money into a weight loss challenge. The winners split the pot at the end. I hemmed and hawed about doing one. I knew from Biggest Loser that money motivated me to lose weight, but I only knew one person who has done it before. I also couldn't decide how much to bet or which type of game to do. 

We realized we can't sit here and declare the best biscuit in Richmond alone. While yes, we have a food blog and eat a lot, we can't make that call all alone. Instead, we turned to our ATOB Instagram followers to vote.

The Biscuit Bracket's Creation

Running alongside the World Cup bracket, we started our own bracket. We arranged a bracket with 16 local restaurants with biscuits on the menu and asked people to vote in every day's match up via our Instagram stories (which means voting is only open for a day). The winner would then move on to the next round. 

Pull up a bar stool and order another round. We’re about to talk about one of those dating urban legends that we all know is true, but we hate to be reminded.

We all know about the one who got away - the mythical first or maybe second or third love that stole our breath and then our hearts before vanishing into the night, either by their own devices or by some hand-spun twist of life and destiny. You’re probably thinking of your own now - that beautiful creature who slipped away no matter how much you argued, chased, and fought. And that’s why you need another drink: you know it’s true.

A few weeks ago, I had to drive home for a family dinner. My brother accompanied me. We hit the road late (I blame my brother), and it was only when in the driver’s seat that I realized my gas tank was a quarter full. Now I’m one of those people who seldom lets their gas dip below half, so I’m not sure how I reached this point. Nevertheless, I decided we could make our two-hour journey without filling up. Plus, while home, my parents planned to switch out my current car with a newer one, so it would be a waste of money to fill up the tank. I would save the most by riding close to empty.

The first 90 minutes of the ride passed without incident. We passed many gas stations without notice.

I've been annoyed for some time with private meme accounts. It's never really been at the forefront of my thought, just kind of the fly buzzing around the room, bringing with it some annoyance.

When someone is DM'ing me something they think is relevant and funny to me, I don't particularly want to go through the effort of following someone, waiting for them to accept me and then days later, smirk at whatever someone sent me. It's too long of a build-up, so then the meme is remarkably less funny.

This past winter, I met someone. For a month, it worked out, and then due to a host of inevitabilities that I'll save for future blogposts rants, things fractured. The day following our split, I went on Bumble out of spite. I wanted friends to report Cazey is back in the game (was he ever in the game?), he wasted no time, she meant nothing, he really is a Slytherin. I also wanted to keep up momentum – dating had been fun for an inexplicable moment. Maybe several moments.

“Juliet” was the second person I matched with. She was obviously attractive, tall, well educated, and prompt enough at replying. We also maintained conversation slightly above small talk, though we did regress to discussing central air conditioning by day six.