what living looks like

I need to release this. I need to get it off of my chest because I'm fucking pissed right now. Maybe not even pissed. I don't know. I'm aggravated. I'm confused. I'm antsy. I'm worried. I'm completely baffled. I want to address the people who feel the need to comment on how looting is wrong. Not because looting is wrong, because I completely agree. Material destruction is not the resolution I seek. The corruption we see, the unfairness that's felt, the audacity! That's what I seek to destroy. If you feel like kneeling during the national anthem was inappropriate, check your privilege. If you feel like people saying he's not my president is wrong, check your privilege. If you feel like it's important that everyone likes the president, check your privilege. If you feel the need to intervene to say blue lives matter, check your privilege. If you feel like black on black crime vs police brutality is a fight you want to have, check your privilege....

Facebook is so great. [insert sarcastic smile here] I just had cousin message me about a girl he liked. This cousin is one that I know, acknowledge, and can giggle with when we're around each other. So we're not really close. We don't share stories, tell secrets, in fact he blocked me one time!! I thought we were having a mature back and forth on the internets and he did not feel the same. In fact, the next time we saw each other, he kind of kept his distance the start of the event. I'm guessing at some point he felt comfortable enough to come and hang out with us. Then as we got into a rhythm of having fits of giggles and snickering, he told me that he'd blocked me because he was upset. I would've never guessed let alone known! Totally unrelated to the actual story, but this is my brain. My thought pattern took me back there. Anyway, he likes one of my Facebook friends. Which I don't like and find odd. Why are you browsing my friends in your free time. It...

It's my birthday week coming up soon. I've been really moody lately. Well, if we're calling it what it is, I've just been upset. A mixture of sadness, being overwhelmed, and being a little pissed basically. I also realized that my period will be starting in 2 days (or so). I'm not saying that's why I'm in these feelings, but I am taking it into account. But I'm making an effort to feel better on my own. So, this [upcoming] week, I was looking at pictures to remind me of how I spent my last birthday. It was fun and I was happy. I'd just realized I the joy of a three-day weekend because I can and because I deserve it. I genuinely had a really good time. I would do it again in a heartbeat. So that's the plan. Post the pictures, bathe in the nostalgia. Feel good. Then I bought some food so I can make myself a birthday dinner. Food-- good. I like food. Next is getting my birthday cake. It's already ordered and I'm excited to get my hands on it...

I like reading Adult Romance. If you'd asked me in junior high, when I was reading Sarah Dessen religiously, if I could see myself being interested in Adult Romance, I'd be like "what? no!" Let me just tell you, I'd be in denial. At that age, movie sex scenes meant the world to me. If your child is reading Sarah Dessen, make sure you've already had the safe sex talk with them. Because thinking back on the romances in those novels? Definitely a precursor to Adult Romance. Those books are right on the edge of literary genius and cheesy. We used to go into the library looking for those books. If we saw someone we knew with a new one we hadn't read, we'd stop them where they stood. "Hey! Will you please come and find me when you get ready to turn that book in? I want to be there with you so I can check it out next. Please!" We ate that shit up. Adult Romance is basically the same thing. Except when the two people realize they have fallen in love,...

I don't know who I am. I don't know anymore. And not in a sad, woe is me kind of why. Not even existential crisis-ish. I feel like just need to get that. I know who I am as an actual person, but I'm still digging to figure out what's inside, what am I composed of, what makes me who I am. Two physical beings made me, spiritually one entity created me. But for me personally, where I end up and who I end up being -- that's based on my choices. The butterfly effect is both a crock of you-know-what and scarily realistic. I do believe it's true but I try not to get caught up in it. It's as black-holey as time travel. But my choices will continue to form and shape me literally until the day I die. Every time I try to even consider "redefining" myself, it never works. Because I can't seem to follow through on the choices I'd need to make in order to see results. I want to be better for myself. I'm almost always ready to help someone else, give ...

Or at least I feel like it. I just bought my url, updated my profile, and visited to see what it looks like. I have had this blog for 4 years. Four freaking years. That means I have been pulling at my hair for at least four fucking years. Four years! I thought I was fucked before I logged on to write. Now that I'm here, and I've done all this, it's like a kick to the gut. On one hand, my hair is growing back. Or had grown back for the most part. Then quarantine started, I got anxious, and my hands got right to work. I decided May would be the start of me fixing my habit. It's not going great, but I'm trying. I'm trying really hard. I'm trying to actually take the tips I find online and utilize them instead of looking at them and then spiraling. When I was reading the tips (for the unteenth time) I noticed the "there's no cure" phrase over and over again. Reworded, sure, but the basis is the same. There's no sure fire way to quit trichotillo...