I’d love to think that at some point my life will mean something.
But since that is so embarrassingly unlikely it would be ideal just to find ways to entertain myself to some degree until I can catch the next train to deadsville. I’m thinking sand art.
but don’t bother getting me anything. I already got the greatest gift one could ever receive — they are ceasing production of PT Cruisers by end of year. I owe you one recession!
if you don’t consider that the most sparkly of all silver linings…well, it’s gonna be a long life for you Mr.Negative.
People…down the street…are starving.
On an unrelated note - I know all organic food tastes like cardboard, but seriously Kirkland Farms, how does one manage to fuck up ANIMAL CRACKERS?!
Frustration nation on the Catalano Ranch tonight.
Wait no, it’s JUST ME.
In true holidalyssa fashion, I am letting dusty mistletoe and my brother playing imaginary beer pong with his girlfriend’s “ball” nose get the very best of me.
I rarely give in to the general public’s agenda to make me feel miserable about being a single lady (ALL MY SINGLE LADIES!), but I have to say this year the impending new year leaves me wondering if I’m not constructed of complete stone.
On second thought, I’m probably just getting my period soon.
PS. I’m an inherent genius, yet I make such terrible personal decisions sometimes. GOD I’M SO LITERARY.
Happy Christmas
I can recall four nights in the past six months that I found myself staying awake through night till morning. One of these nights was incredibly well spent - reliving the glory (and err, i’ll say it, disappointment) of mall madness with Molly and watching her sob hysterically (round two) through the Sex in the City movie. All the while realizing through my more or less blank reaction that I am, in fact, empty inside.
HOWEVER, the other three nights, tonight included, have all been spent in the exact same manner — reading bios/gossip and youtubing clips of the jonas brothers, demi lovato, taylor swift and pretty much any other tween sensation that comes to mind. At first I deemed this behavior/interest as pretty standard, but with further thought, I realized that I am nearly twenty three years old and that just makes me - well - a fucking creep.
But THEN, upon FURTHER thought, (I can think, like, REALLY FAR!) - I concluded that while this obsession certainly dances on a fine line between justifiably intrigued and weirdly pathetic - it probably IS normal (APPLAUD HERE AT MY CURVE BALL, EDGE OF YOUR SEAT DEVELOPMENT THAT YOU DIDN’T EVEN SEE COMING BUT NOW FIND TO BE A HIGHLY RELATABLE AND COMFORTING COMING OF AGE TALE OF MATURATION).
Uh, anyways…I am going to chalk it up to being completely dumbfounded and, dare I admit it, a bit jealous, of these high school aged icons living the life I so painstakingly wished for in my developing phases. Back then I had not even considered the perks of a limitless wardrobe and weekend getaways to Hawaii. (PS. why do they all goto Hawaii? LAME.) All I longed for was a guitar and a stage ..john mayer to stumble upon my demo and decide to casually come by one of my gigs (we still called them gigs then, sometimes, i think) and decide halfway through one song that he couldn’t live another day knowing that my head…could hit my bed….without his hand behind it. oh how i miss the days when compact discs existed and dry humping your pillow while John mayer ran through the halls of his high school meant you had an awesome weekend.
I bet Nick Jonas and Selena Gomez ACTUALLY dry hump. Like, each other.
Oh to be young in the two thousands…
womp. womp.
Instead of doing anything of even remote productivity today, I’ve spent most of the morning-into afternoon-into soon to be late afternoon hours doing research on what Blake Fielder-Civil’s pre-lockup profession was. Turns out he has done pretty much nothing with his life but bang Amy Winehouse and expose his chest more than the average bear. Just like that, THE SEXY GET SEXIER! How is a complete lack of ambition so damn becoming on some people? Since the only descript of him that points to any sort of career is when he is referred to as a “grammar school dropout” and “Pimp” I like to think that it is my liberty — no…responsibility to create a professional history for him. Yet to work out the details but fairly certain it will include a short-lived bohemian career of street portrait sketching (failed due to uncanny resemblance of every portrait to a “hangman” board) and fingerbanging British schoolgirls in McDo’s bathrooms for their lunch money. Hey, a girl can dream.
