I Come Off Better In Writing

  I got my first apartment when I was 19 years old. I had none of my own furniture at the time so I got an Ashley Furniture credit card (four years, zero interest) and hit up IKEA for the rest. This was the beginning of me having my own stuff. I’ve been called a hoarder for years and I might be… but I’ve worked damn hard for my money and if I choose to spend it on something, I value that item.  I am too stuck up to sleep on a used mattress or sit on someone’s used couch. I mean, seriously. Gross. I know what happens on my couch and mattress so I can only imagine what happens on someone else’s (...grow up). Those were both somewhat pricey investments. I can tell you that the $600 couch I got (that was black velvet material and oh so squishy) moved into that apartment, and then moved four additional times over seven years. It didn’t really look like it belonged in any of my apartments after the first, but I still loved and cared for it.  WHY am I talking to you about a couc...

On a scale from 1 to angsty, I’m currently at a 30. If you’re confused, let me clarify. I’m currently listening to Avril Lavigne’s “Let Go” album. I think I’ve already headbanged to “Thing’s I’ll Never Say” about ten times. I’ve got the feels.  How am I doing today? Well, last night I noticed my left eye was sorta red. Figured I just poked myself with my new eyeliner. Woke up this morning in a lot of pain, and my eye looks like it’s been overtaken by the devil. It’s not an infection, I’ve had enough of those to know the difference. So besides resembling Satan and sitting at my laptop with a bottle of Clear Eyes next to me, trying not to count the number of drinks I had between Friday night and last night, I’m just fucking wonderful. Was fun had? Oh yes.  If you’re really close to me, you already know this. I tend to be pretty consistent (check a previous post with the list of things everyone tends to know about me). I love live music. More specifically, I love a good cover ban...

In the spirit of always being pretty honest, let’s be honest here.  You’re basically trash if Netflix is asking you “Are you still watching …?” and it’s light outside. Or, it isn’t light out but it’s the second time you’re seeing this prompt in the same sitting.  So being single and poor and having no friends is playing out nicely on my Friday night. Technically, I didn’t work today so I have been in this spot for quite some time. I did get up for a glass of wine. Then I didn’t finish my wine before my fasting time started. The struggle, my friends, is real. Intermittent fasting. Basically, you stop eating after a certain time in the early evening, and then you don’t get to have anything for about 16 hours. So I can’t have a drink at night, no snacks before bed, and no. fucking. breakfast. I think it’s working and there are a lot of people who speak highly of it so I’ll play this game for a bit longer before I re-apply for Victoria’s Secrets’ model program.  Oh, you’re su...

I know I don’t write anymore so here’s a summarized update and then I’ll begin a much-needed vent. So I bought one of those new scales that tells you your BMI and body fat percentages and all that, and it’s fascinating. I’m on the thing four times a day trying to figure out if that glass of water I just drank registered (it tells you your water percentages too, whatever that means). Do you know how you’ve gotta spend money to make money? Well, my weight loss journey was a sort of gain more weight to losing weight. I just love carbs too much. I was going to try being Keto, (I’ve heard it actually works) and got 36 hours into a Keto diet before becoming sicker than I’d ever felt in my life. No carbs or sugar? YEAH. OKAY. It’s called the “keto flu” and it makes the actual flu seem like Disneyworld. Wasn’t much longer after that I was shoving quesadillas and beer down my throat to revive myself. Since that didn’t fucking work I now intermittent fast which means don’t eat for most hours of ...