Problematic

If I were a baseball player they'd play the ending part of Roses, where they just repeat "crazy bitch" over and over, when I walked onto the field. I have been to two baseball games, so I know about things like this now. I think they also have theme songs in boxing? I am not aware of any personal theme songs in basketball, football or futbol. And that is all of my knowledge on sports. I have been working on a lot of posts. It's been a really productive time. I wonder if my habit of taking weekends off my meds is contributing to this in any way. Like how periodic fasting is supposed to be good for your body/metabolism based on the pseudoscience that all dietary recommendations are. Either way, I am getting a lot of stuff started, and potentially not going to finish any of it, as per usual. In this process of kind of cataloging my entire existence I decided that this is the new direction of the blog, for a little while at least. Which I guess was the original purpos

Also Titled: Because I Wanted You To Know One of my biggest fears, especially when I am using a song title, TV reference or lyric to title a post, is that I am going to use the same thing twice. Like a fool. Some people are a time capsule. I am sore today because I danced last night like I could shake off the years I wasted. Or, more accurately, wildly-thrash-and-jump off the years I wasted. I got a couple of good songs for my nostalgia playlist out of the night, too. It was a strange sensation, though, being around people with the same love. A lot of people looked like everyone I knew from high school, when I knew them in high school, but much whiter, because I am now in Austin. The guys of Austin have never looked better. I hate myself for having an era of nostalgia. And even more for a type. There was a guy there that looked like the kind of mistake I'd dive head into. He had sharp facial features, a ponytail, and he wore all black with hanging suspenders. To be honest, I

I finally got to the point in this blog where more than 10 people are reading a post. While I'm editing, I mean. I reached the blog post where I first got over 10 views. I am thrilled that this is a more common occurrence now. I still haven't reached 100 views on any one post, but I'm honestly just glad you're here. I have a large chunk of hair missing. This is my fault. I don't think it's quite golf ball sized, but it's bigger than a marble. Maybe a large marble? I remember playing marbles as a kid and really enjoying it. I love marbles as they are- the shiny and often colorful round things. They're so smooth and cold, they seem perfect for shoving a bunch in your mouth. Not that I've done this. I think I got a bean up my nose once...maybe a pebble? But I definitely didn't stick a fistful of marbles in my maw. I would tell you. It just seems like a good idea. Anyway, it wasn't just the appeal of the marbles themselves that I liked. I don&#

I have finally started editing this thing, which means that I am re-reading this thing. I am incredibly boring. And I was far more boring in the beginning, which I guess is growth I should appreciate. God, those first posts are fucking awful. Not that it's become gems of insight and hilarity since, but- ugh, I was so terrible. I am reassured by the idea that I will either, in the future, feel I've grown from the person I am now, or figure out this was the most interesting I have ever been. And the most well written/ communicated. Also, I didn't use enough commas, so I think I'm overcompensating now. I will never understand commas. I am pretty sure I addressed that in an earlier post, but I haven't gotten there yet. I had to stop after the first five "episodes". I am comforting my sense of failure by listening to 'The Only Thing' on repeat, because I am definitely going to drive this car half-light jack-knife into this canyon at night. Death comes

Also Titled: Even In His Heart The Devil Has To Know The Water Level Or: All of Me Wants All of You All of Me Wants All of You is not as loving as you might think. I started a new skin care regimen. Or, rather, I have started to actually use the skin care regimen things I had. I at one point bought a lot of random Korean shit off of Amazon. I have started using one of the night time super moisturizers. I feel like it's working. It might not actually be working, but I feel like it is. And progress is like 70% perception, right? I have also lost 10 of the 15 sadness pounds I put on during the worst of my fighting with Scott. It's a relief, and I hope to soon look like the person I was before him. I liked her better, I think. She is dingy and fearless in my head. More comfortable approaching people at least. I have thoughts: Have I ever mentioned how bad I am at parking? I always have to check that I am within the lines when I get out of the car because it is obvious th

Yesterday I was obsessed with Cardi B's debut album. Some of it more than others. Then I became increasingly obsessed with the artist herself, because she is weird up on Instagram, I was missing out this whole time. Her reveal on SNL was brilliant and cute. I don't know that she's a nice person, but much like break-out comedic star Tiffany Hadish, she seems like a fun person. She co-hosted the Tonight Show last night and I am currently all about that, especially because he has John Mulaney on and I am a sucker for his dapper mannerisms and effervescent smile. Jimmy Fallon seems out of his element with her trilling, which, by the way, is an amazing sound and I am also disappointed in myself for not absorbing this sound in my brain space earlier. She definitely out oukurrr's Ru Paul, which I think takes skill. The canned laughter is perfect. I need to learn the resting amused/surprised face that she has. After she does something wild she just pops into it like, "What

I have some concerns. They aren't big concerns. They might be serious concerns- but as a woman with anxiety I really have no idea how seriously I should take anything I think. Like, literally anything could be me blowing things out of proportion, only a concern because the world is gas-lighting me, or be a manifestation of generational paranoia. One concern kind of leads into the other. I bought like a little over a hundred dollars worth of lingerie, which isn't really a lot of money, but it's not hella nice lingerie...so I have several pieces.  I guess a third concern is that I make some slightly expensive impulse buys with an alarming regularity. I'm going to set that particular personality flaw to the side for now, though. I really like lingerie because I like the idea of feeling sexy when I never feel sexy and I think most problems can be solved by buying something. I do not need self-acceptance if I have a full length mirror and a chemise with push-up cups. The i

Warm rain has a different sound. A summer scent. Every heavy drop kicks up pollen fallen from its mating dance. Life, in it's adolescence, feels like it's in its prime. The rolling roars of big cats of the storm break through the quiet midnight sky. The warm rain carries sleep through the day so the night is restless. Let's catch up: I don't know if I mentioned that I got my mom a smart phone. She uses it to look up the weekly specials at the drug stores. She and my father like a very particular type of instant coffee. It's Taster's Choice, and it's about 8 dollars for a little glass canister she holds tea in when she's finished it. If she's lucky it will be on sale at Walgreens or CVS for 7, which still seems incredibly high for something that in my heart I do not recognize as real coffee. It's nice- but it's as coffee as Tang was orange juice. Or is. I can never remember what has become of Tang- can the drink of the astronauts have real