I don't need to have read Catcher in the Rye to know you're a bunch of a fucking phonies.

I forgive your inconsideration, but I won't fall for your feigned kindness again.

I don't carry anger as much as I carry disappointment.

I'm done thinking about it. My life is rife with good things and opportunities right now.

That's how I am choosing to think of it. I have a friend who should think this way, too. With the end of a broken relationship, can come new beginnings. Literally, there is nothing you can't do, now. I will have a new job soon, and when I make money, I am going back to Minneapolis, because it's not fair that Alex had to pay for everything. Then I am making Spenser come with me to visit Seattle.

My boyfriend needs a vacation more than anyone. Alright. I got shit to do.

I love yellow flowers.

w(h)ine blog

so whatever fuck i will drink this glass of wine and fucking blog and not use punctuation or anything

Away We Go

By "we" I mean me.

I am going to Minnesota, to Minneapolis, to visit my friend Alex.

Spenser bought me a book about drugs, to read on the plane. He bought me Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I commend his efforts on trying to get me to open up to the idea that not all drugs are horrible.

Also, I am semi-officially a cocktail waitress.

Exile is good for me.

A List of Things I Need (ASAP)

1. A lot of wire
2. Various knick-knacks
3. Picture frames
4. Wood (and tools)
5. Taylor Swift's new CD

I've got art burning in my arms.

"You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. You are the best thing that's ever been mine."

Briefly

I allowed myself, for a moment only, to feel hurt by knowing she is still relevant to him. I think it may be the last time I allow myself a moment like that, because truly, no longer is it any of my business, and also, why should I care who falls for it?

I am someone worth falling for, as it happens. So there. Take that, bruised ego, take that compliment and frame it on the wall where it belongs.

The end.

Accept Loss Forever

My friend has this quote tattooed to her leg. It has always been one of my favorite tattoos I have ever seen, and I am not even really into Kerouac.

I have lost a lot, lately. But luckily bad things come in threes, and the third thing just happened, so I am free of it, at least.

New, and good things abound.

Spenser and I drove to Milwaukee on a whim. Last night we watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3, and baked Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies. So that has been bringing me out of my funk. He is defensive of me, which is nice.

Also, old friends are good to see again.

It's sad to me, though, how quickly some people will burn bridges. Alas, alack. I'm not embarrassed, or ashamed to admit that I feel a little betrayed by people that painted themselves as one thing, but are obviously, and ferociously not. I see my own faults, and mistakes, I admit them, I'd admit them before being confronted with them, but to be shunned by people who I have done so much for, is really unfortunate. To be cast out is not something I would wish on anyone, especially to be cast out by people you trusted.

Eh. What's done is done is done.

I'm done thinking about it.

The cookies are perfect. My boyfriend is a good person. He can be irritating, and we may argue, but he would never be malicious toward me, or toward anyone. He is respectful, and caring, and I am grateful. I like being soft, I would choose every time to be soft, and compassionate, even if it means I am socially awkward.

It took some turmoil and loss to me to see myself and like what I saw.



I like this a ton and a bunch.

Fuck All That Mess, a purge

Trust, and relationships get ruined.

It's for the better.

I won't lie though, it stings.

Fuck you very much.

Your High Horse Ain't Worth Reachin' For

Intuition is a funny thing, and so is getting face fucked for trying to be helpful, and a good person.
I've been in a lot of bad places lately, and they keys of my macbook, much like my bathtub, are becoming good and pink.
I've been thinking a lot about you, and you.
You in my dream life, and you with my ex-boyfriend.
You are both sour, shrill and exhausting.
God, I don't even know either of you.
I prefer it that way.
Anxiety gives me muscle spasms.
I'm tired, nauseous and achy.
I've needed to purge your shit anyway.