Problematic

I need to get a skinny European boyfriend so I can call him my Blonde Flat White. As I have finished dinner I realize that I cannot become a rapper, because if I nervous-vomit before my rap battles I have no explanation for why there is celery in my mom's spaghetti. I don't think this is something that other rappers would just let slide. I certainly wouldn't. "Bitch, did you have papaya in- what...Shepard's pie?! Hell naw, I don't play with this." She might be a culinary genius. I do like the play on texture. It's been really hard to get myself into writing lately. I have a lot to do. I have three group projects that I don't completely understand. The amount of interaction I am being forced to sustain is becoming overwhelming. Outside of that I've been trying to foster good, consistent people-seeing in an effort to aid my socialization. I'm feral and I need puppets to play with to prove I can come inside the house. Before I go...

Okay, so.... You have to binge On My Block IMMEDIATELY if you have not already. I am typing this through heaving sobs, it's so tragically fantastic. I will admit, that since my last post I still have not slept. And I know that does things to your brain parts and the emotion parts of your brain parts. I think this is more a product of how completely blindsided I was by the way this show evolved. It totally maintained the sometimes cheesy over-dramatic dialogue that I thought initially made it seem campy (probably, mostly, because I am using that term incorrectly.) But it transforms in these brilliant and meaningful ways that I just did not expect. It's a coming of age comedy, mixed with, what I assume, is the authentic drama of living in an LA hood (I have only ever lived near Houston hoods, so I can't like, definitively say it's authentic) and this insane treasure hunt. The characters are smart and have depth beyond the stereotypes they draw from, but there's so...