TGIF

Smile. It's Friday.

-J

mirror mirror

"The difference between how you look and how you see yourself is enough to kill most people." - chuck palahniuk

and nothing but the truth

I just spent fifteen minutes searching Facebook for one particular post I received over a year ago because I needed to jumper-cable some emotion. It worked. I am currently fine being ten pounds overweight except for the fear of ruining Zach and Kelsea's wedding photos with a double chin. At least twice a day I go on the Virgin America website and price out trips. I am only obsessed with Virgin America because flying them makes me feel fancy. I feel tremendous guilt for not exercising, not capitalizing on a creative outlet, and not going home enough. I am more torn up by realizing I control all of these choices. At twenty-five years old I'm still very much learning how to let go. I'm not sure I'll ever learn. For the first time ever I'm choosing to repeatedly see the same individual in social settings and it has nothing to do with sex. This terrifies me. I maybe lied about it being the first time. The terrified though, that's true. I want to try Zumba. I do not understand Excel spreadsheets, Youtube sensations, or anything regarding political unrest in the Middle East. I finally make enough money to fuck around, and it feels awesome. San Francisco may not be the greatest city on earth, but I'm convinced it's the greatest city for me. I want a dog but fear the commitment. See also: tattoo. I don't have insomnia but have a subconscious resistance to sleeping at night, leading to hours fruitless internet usage much like this. And porn. I am consistently reminded of how wonderful my life is, now more than ever. I miss a lot of people. I'm not sure what compels me to start, and alternately to stop, writing in any capacity.

And that is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Or as close as anyone realistically gets anymore.

How's THAT for an entrance back into the game?

Lovingly serving up slop since 2003,

J

hearts and shit

Not only did I lie alone in my bed in the dark on a Sunday night watching "Camp" on Netflix, but I also re-wound it to watch Vlad in the swimming scene at the end..........more than once. You don't even need to know this train wreck of a B-movie to know this was the most pathetic pre-Valentine's display of gayness in the history of time.

I did however double-check to make sure I wasn't an actual pedophile, and the actor was 24 even though he was playing a high school junior. So in my mind that makes it less creepy.

What's MORE creepy was I found his birthday when googling him to make sure I wasn't missing out on any questionable low-budget films he may have also made, including but not limited to any roles without pants.

And THAT'S how I spent my Valentine's Eve.

This post brought to you by the Committee to Make You Feel Better About Your Life In Comparison.

words to live by

I still want this framed above my bed. Got to figure out a way to make that happen

the problem

"So, what you're saying is that you have a problem that is totally your problem, but you'd like to find a way to make that problem my problem. But here's the problem, Newbie: it's not my problem."

-scrubs

wish you were here

Oh wait, I will be there. In twelve days. I'm even going to upgrade my flight so I can drink free champagne to excess 35,000 feet above the desert. And then, you know....glitter. And neon. And all sorts of delightfulness that I'll neither confirm nor deny takes place because the internets keep no secrets. This is why I wake up most Sunday mornings and fight with travel agencies on behalf of other people. Those lights. Right there.

Speaking of places I'm about to be:


See those buildings with the red roofs? Starting next month, I live in one. Fo' serious. If I can't motivate myself to run with all of that out my back door someone just needs to throw me off the bridge because I'd be a damn lost cause.

Of course this officially ends my time in Neverland, because as of this weekend I'm back to paying rent and champagne over the desert will become fewer and far between, but that's okay. Give and take as always. Plus I think writing that monthly check won't hurt so bad when I realize it's paying for a dream come true.

Speaking of dreams, it's night-night time. And a good week to all.

-J