dear x: in pieces

dear x,

when i started this challenge, there were two very specific people for whom i would not write. let me make this clear: this is not a love letter because, honestly, i wish-- with everything i've known, do know, and will know-- that i had never met you and subsequently am repulsed by any memory of you.

but it took an episode of "glee" and a scene between quinn and shelby to procure some serious feels this morning that prompted me to reflect and share. i have spent the last few years in self-quarantine, because i am afraid of ever being stupid enough to allow myself to be glamoured into trusting someone as shallow and cruel as you. i let you bully me into considering that i was less of a person because i am not like every other girl you know; i'm not dependent or conventional--for better or worse-- and you continually suggested that i have been and always will be a disappointment to my family, friends, gender, race-- species-- because i say no to thunder.

you shoved me into a corner and expected me to fall in love with you. i didn't. you forced me to make choices and i truly believe i did the best i could. i made mistakes as a child, i was 23, and the secrets haunt me. i allowed your poisonous seeds to germinate and take root in my mind, now so deeply implanted in my own self-view and self-worth.

to dive into nothingness, into the abyss, into the recessive dark-- is to place myself into that wretched corner that i still struggle with. i tiptoe to it and curl into the fetal position. but it's time to recognize that letting go of the anger and shame is not the same as surrendering.

you are unforgivable.

but that doesn't mean i am.

without a trace of love,
a.

you wrap me in your arms

and chill me to the bone

grocery shopping

i hate grocery shopping.  you know, the planning, the driving around, the excuses, the time commitment, the letdown, and the eventual leftover baggage.  it's really a big ordeal for me.

first, there's the list-making.  you have to determine what you need and what you want.  or you can just go in cold: you'll know what you want when you get there.  some of us only think ahead for the week-- short-term fixes--while some can plan ahead for years.  then there's the temptations once you're shopping, what looks (and sometimes smells) appealing but you know it's not good for you.  food like that usually goes straight to your hips.  or just leaves you with a tummy ache and heartburn.

then, you have decide where to go.  somewhere large that's well-stocked but the quality is questionable?  perhaps a smaller, local market where you have to wear the right clothes and are judged by what you leave with?  or maybe just a quick drop-by wherever is convenient?  sometimes you just never know.  or maybe you're the type that shops with a friend to make the trip more exciting.  i prefer the solo excurisions, personally.

if you're like me, the excuses soon start piling up though.  often, i decide to make the effort tomorrow.  afterall, i can't starve the rest of my life.  but, the day wears me down, i decide i'm too tired, i'm not in the right mindset to deal with people and options, so i decide to go another time.  that's when you start making bad choices: you start grab-buying, anything sounds good enough, and sooner than later you start resenting grocery shopping even more.

eventually, you'll make it to the grocery store with list in hand (or head) and you begin.  maybe you start at the produce section-- full of fresh choices and implied expiration dates.  healthy carrots? no. refreshing cucumbers? no. tall celery? sure.  so there you are, eyeing the celery.  the newest stock is presented in the front; the older, been-around-a-while celery is moved to the back to either expire or be selected later by more forgiving eyes.  maybe you look for a slim package, light-weight but all you really need.  or maybe you prefer stockier stems.  but, be careful which one you choose.  i mean, you can walk around with celery for a while, give it a good squeeze before deciding it's not really right for you.  you might release it where it doesn't quite fit in (perhaps the scattered bulk foods, or the domestic cake-decorating aisle) or your good heart will let it down gently and place it back in its home--unspoiled and hopeful for another chance to be a shopper's desire.  and despite the cruelty, you can leave it at the checkout stand, just seconds away from true commitment before your credit card seals the deal.  however, it's just cruel to take it home and then bring it back-- it may never resell, since other shoppers will prefer new products in case yours has been "damaged."

there are times i return home from grocery shopping with seemingly nothing for all my efforts.  other times, i end up with way more than i expected.  sometimes everything was just perfect and you don't have to go grocery shopping for a while; sometimes you  have to make room; sometimes you forgot something really important.  i am often frustrated.  i envy other shoppers for their efficiency and ability to find exactly what they're looking for.  i am often discouraged, leave the grocery store grumpy and unsatisfied to head home and bask in what little i have from past experiences (leftover tidbits or remnants from a fancy appetizer).  i wonder what other people think of grocery shopping, how often and when they find time and energy.  perhaps this is why i rarely go, prefering instead the short and sporadic attempts at nutrition and sustenance.

i hate grocery shopping.

aren't there better things to do instead?

aaaaand cue lightbulb

Andrea: "the question I hate the most is 'why are you single?' because it's really the question of 'so what's wrong with you?' "

friend:

you're single because guys are like, "heeeeey."






and one girl is like, "ohmigosh someone is talking to me!!!! we are gonna get married!"






and then the bitches are like, "playa, get the fuck out."






but you, you're just like, "whatever....






....I'm gonna go take a picture of myself on my iPhone now."






so that's why.

sunny soundtrack

so glad today was warm (this is a relative term...) and sunny!

the song in my heart finally sounds like, "every time you smile, i smile...":



because i'm really, really tired of hearing "it rains when you're here amd it rains when you're gone":





what song is playing on your life's soundtrack right now, reader?

(ef)face

i knew it was a dream when it started.

we are racing,
zooming down a series of yellow plastic slides
instead of using the playground stairs.
i hear your footsteps behind me,
my hair stuck to my lipgloss smile,
and happiness bubbles in my throat.

i tell myself (i sound a lot like ellen page),

"you're happy
right now.

you won't stay happy."

i protest by looking back at you; i want you
to hug me and squeeze away the voices in my head.

i reach the bottom,
the grass is warm under my bare toes,
and i hold my hand over my eyes to block the sunlight
now directly in my eyes.
i scan the maze of slides and find nothing, so i turn around again.

i see you.
you're sitting at a gray plastic patio table

with her,

your left arm draped loosely around her shoulders.
i suddenly feel       old,
tired,
and i tug at my shorts hem to cover my thighs.

then, the voice tells me,
"it's the most feared
in the land.
he can smell you.
he will eat your eyeballs out."
a shadow and a cold breeze covers me.

i look up.

a golden eagle with veiny human eyes
and feathers made of entrails
circles the graying skies to land in the middle of the playground.
he opens his enormous, sharp beak--
glistening with fresh blood-- and screeches
like a stuck pig.
i hear the whoosh of his wings as he lands,

and i run.

i tear full speed
towards some tall trees
before its teeth sink into my left leg,
a jolting electric pain
rushes up my hip and into the base of my skull.

game over.

but this is how my dreams work.

round two.

i'm alive and healthy,
standing at your table,
just watching you
two.
in my dreams, she never looks the same.
tonight, she has short blonde pigtails, blue eyes, and red freckles.
her facial expression tells me I am pathetic.

it starts to rain.
the eagle will appear any second,
so i scan our surroundings and take refuge in a storm drain.

i barely fit
so i pull my knees tight against my chest, scrape my knuckles
against the grainy cold concrete,
feel the mud ooze under my slipping feet,
and the shockingly frigid water--
full of sticks and plastic cups and forks (from your picnic)--
flows over my head and shoulders into my lap.

"stupid. he's going to find you."

i clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering.
i peer through the grate,
push my hair out of my eyes, and gasp when

a giant red eye meets mine.

game over again.

now,
i stand once more in front of you,
shivering and bloody.
your friends have joined you
two
as i was screaming your name to get your attention.

i look right at you and ask,
"why
didn't
you
save
me?"

the conversation quiets.
she smirks.
your friends giggle.
they resume
talking in rushed,
whispering voices.

your eyes are on her.

my breathing becomes irregular to cover the tears stinging my eyes.

"why won't you save me?"
i ask again.
you are still
watching
her
watch
me.

"Andrea, you don't need me to save you."

when you finally look at me,
i notice that your face is covered in freckles--
just like her.
just like a child.

round three.

the sun shines.
it's a beautiful day. but
i feel the panic rise in my chest;
i have to defeat the eagle.

despite the warm weather, you wear a jacket.

i know exactly what to do.

i trick you into standing in the middle of the field.
the eagle lands behind you
and plucks off your coat.
a trail of feathers scatters across the grass.
instead of running, you reach for your coat back.
he plays with you like
cat and mouse,
letting you grab a jacket arm and then yanks you into the air.

she asks me,
"what is he doing?"
i say nothing.

i know i've won.

the eagle flips you into the air,
beak opens,
and clamps shut.

"it's
you.
it's
always
been
you,"

i whisper.

i don't need you to save me.

case for a paperless world

one of these is not like the other.




one of these fingers has a papercut under the cuticle.

one of these fingers bled for longer than most green day songs.

one of these fingers stung so much that I locked myself in the bathroom and cried at work (which I've only ever done twice-- once after my first car accident in my work's parking lot which was no big deal but I was 19 and stupid and I think the adrenaline got to me, and then once when I found out my hours were being cut at my home pharmacy because I thought I made someone mad and I realized how new and clueless I would seem to anyone else).

one of these fingers caused me to contemplate the unfairness of life and the complexity of human suffering.

one of these fingers showed me how big of a wuss I am-- there are people out there with broken clavicles or trapped under earthquake rubble or whatever.

one of these fingers should just knock it off. shut the hell up already, and get on with it.

is it possible the karma fairy screwed up?

this weekend is my "sad face" one-day weekend. but, nevertheless, I spent my afternoon volunteering for the humane society on one of their mobile adoptions-- or adoptions at another location other than the shelter.

I arrived and picked out the cutest 6 month old border collie mix puppy named neo. he has the softest ears! I gave him a big hug and kiss. about fifteen minutes into my shift, I was standing with neo and talking to another volunteer when I heard, "oh no! it's diarrhea!" which, let's face it, is never a good sign.


and it's definitely not a good sign when people are pointing to the dog at the end of my leash.

so, I collected paper towels and spray and doggie poo bags. the scent of green dog crap is just as terrible as it sounds. to calm down and to distract myself, I was thinking good thoughts (pretty ponies, tila tequila, warm blankets that smell like fresh laundry, tila tequila again...) but the disgustingly warm poo just melted to watery chunks when I tried grabbing it with the mutt mitt bags.

I walked neo outside, let him pee, and headed back inside where it was not raining. about 10 feet inside the store, the dreaded "shit hunch" started again and he squirted out some more #2's all over the floor. in a circle.

checked my watch. 18 minutes had passed. 3 hours and 42 minutes to go.

another 4 minutes pass and I'm handed another dog-- the volunteer's back began spasming and she couldn't handle the 56 lb lab mix with no leash training anymore. so as I'm being jerked in a perpetual circle (because the dog is more than half my weight and more than 60000 times beyond my comfort zone), I'm thinking I should have just stayed home and painted my nails.

I looked long and hard at my situation. 3 older ladies are cuddling their chihuahua mixes and runny neo on their laps, chattering away. the two high school boys are being dragged around the store with their pit bull and Australian shepherd. I mean, I know I work out at Golds and everything, but seriously. seriously! at some point, I feel the strain of my smile as I tried--over and over-- to calm the dog down with kind words, lots of petting, and repeated visits outside.

when my second blister popped and started oozing, I felt the sharp sting of hot tears in my eyes. I can only fantasize about tila's ginormously perfect rack for so long before the physical pain and my natural emoness take over.










as the unnamed tank/dog attempted to dislocate my shoulder for the 70th time, I vowed that my good deeds have to end. I try to do something nice and just get screwed. rather mindlessly, I let the tornado-on-a-leash lead us outside. right before we made it to the doors, a young couple look at the dog, point, and exclaim, "IT'S HER! SHE'S BEAUTIFUL!"

they proceed to shower her with undue compliments and affection. they mumble something about how they saw her online profile, heard about the mobile adoption on Facebook, and came down to see her. this is the one and only time I have ever seriously wanted to make out with al gore, for his marvelous invention of the interweb was a beacon of heaven and lead to my salvation.

they announced they want to adopt her. my heart fluttered with joy and relief! they began the paperwork, left briefly to get some money, and were very excited to get Lily (they named her after a while) home to Coors, their other dog.

I inspected my leash wounds.













and concluded that this would be the last mobile adoption I work at. if there was some way to specify weight/breed preferences or to morph into experienced dog-handler over night, I would love to continue helping these animals find their future homes.

but seriously, reader, all I could think about was going home, washing the stink of poop and drool off of me, and gorging on some top ramen.





these converses are made for admin volunteering.

the end.

the goods: tips

this, readers, is what comes of bad deeds.





a customer needed an early refill on his ambien, because, you know, he left it somewhere.  i hestitated, got the nod from the pharmacist, and went about my merry way clicking all of the OK buttons on the computer screen to fill his prescription afterall.  on a scale of 1-10 of annoyance, he was about a 2.  he wandered off, and i moved to the fill station to pour some little yellow pills out.

he came back, and i heard him tell the other tech, "i won the lottery!"  he then produced several twenty dollar bills, as he won the scratch ticket lotto game... and he was visibly excited.

"hey! want to share?" i asked him, ambien bottle in hand.

"if it wasn't for you, i wouldn't have waited around and won! buy yourself a coffee!" he shoved a $20 across the counter.

i stared at it, certain this seeming bribe would cause the karma fairy to come crap and vomit on my head.

"i can't. no, i can't do that. buy yourself something nice," i told him.

"NO!" he said, "i insist. please, it's all because of you guys. seriously. buy yourself a coffee."

after several back and forth "no" and "yes," he left with his prescription (paid for in cash) and the lone $20 on the counter called out to me.

i announced to the tech and pharmacist we could buy some amazing snacks.  visions of jelly beans, triscuits, and FRS galore danced through my head.

"no, i can't spend someone else's money," said both of them.

i contemplated how many cinnamon rolls $20 could buy for me alone-- briefly-- and then conceded to their point of view.  slowly, i withdrew a white envelope from our stationary drawer, and wrote "snack fund yum-yum-yum" on the front, and placed the cash inside.

enjoy, less greedy coworkers.

the goods: old movie quotes

I spent most of the morning thinking about how I should get out of bed and make pancakes and sausage... instead, I took an extra long shower, got back in bed, made some coffee, and distracted myself with tumblr and the like.








my birthday is in late august, so getting older used to mean pool parties, BBQ, and friends when I lived in California. I think my 13th birthday involved watching "10 things I hate about you" and swooning over Heath Ledger.

this challenge to find good things has indeed been a challenge, readers. I don't know why my life has to seem so complicated and convoluted-- other than perhaps it is an elegant scheme by my neuroses and subconscious.

he told me, "you know, the worst thing about you is that you're beautiful and smart and don't even know it. or don't know how to believe it... tragic." I've been pondering the implications of the "worst" of me. and I've got nothing.

so maybe the problem isn't the problem. it's every little avoidable detail that caused the problem, that will cause another problem, and another after that.

beauty has nothing to do with it.

the goods: this is a clever post, where I am really sad inside but pretend it's a good thing

tonight, I celebrated my friend christy's birthday. her always thoughtful and romantic husband planned a surprise dessert with her friends and family at a restaurant downtown. happy birthday, Christy!

afterwards, I decided to meet up with the bestie and some of her work friends. I tasted the strongest margarita I've ever had outside of las Vegas





and then people-watched at the balcony.

tonight, I was surrounded by people-- mostly strangers, but fellow humankind nonetheless. there was the fat-skinny girl in a sequin skirt, the howling boy in a wolf hat, the older man in a navy blue polo hogging the pool table: all seeking connections and attention. there I was too-- in my skinny jeans and newly dyed hair (back to black. playtime is over)-- feeling so alone and isolated and sad.

I would forget them all, never see any of them again, if I could only be with you.

tonight, instead of dancing or flirting or taking my top off, I wrote poetry on old gum wrappers. I thought of you, missed you, and wished you felt the same way.

so, upon crawling into bed, trolling tumblr, I found this:






stupid and silly as that is, it is exactly what my heart feels right now.

so I listen to some tunes:









and hope I see you in my dreams tonight. it seems to be the only way I can be happy.

the goods: new vocab

I love learning new words, especially when they involve new things for me to direct my anger at:

the goods: inside the box

last week, a customer at work called to chat with the pharmacist. before I could pass the phone off in time, she asked me, "is this the Andrea I know?" which is quite strange considering I have no idea who she knows and doesn't know-- I mean, really. she followed up by saying, "are you Asian? oh, i'm sorry I said that. I hate calling people that. it puts you in a box."

then she proceeded to ask me if my family in japan is ok. I mean, totally not a racially-charged question.

today, the pharmacist walked by, handed me a slip of paper that printed after a patient's prescription, and said, "look! an Asian in a box!" way to go, corporate world advertising!









so it DOES happen. there ya go.

the goods: self pep talk

I am failing at this blog challenge, readers. I am sorry.

this morning I woke up warm and rested, then I remembered where I was, who I wasn't with, what is going on, and my heart broke all over again.

but it's time to listen to some Tay-Tay and move on.

the goods: solitude

today, I appreciated a short moment of my job where I reflected on my own situation and concluded I'm really a lucky person.

to pander to HIPAA, I will call the lady with the 8-packs-a-day rasp Nancy. Nancy is perpetually stoned and has trouble speaking and breathing at the same time. today, we added counting money to her long list of greats feats to overcome. Nancy struggled to sign for her prescription and the other highly repetitive steps that one goes through to obtain meds. I told her that her total prescription and OTC items amounted to $15.02, or "fifteen oh two."

her shallow eyes moved their empty glance to her fanny pack, and she unzipped her small coin purse. she dragged her fingers through the change and plopped two pennies on the counter. she then continued rummaging and dropped a nickel and then two other nickels on the counter and slid them over to me.

I waited. she waited. her facial expression demanded, "WTF, take my money."

"it's 15 dollars. and two cents."

"that's what I gave you."

I stared at her.

"that's 17 cents."

Nancy stared back at me. "no. oh." silence. "oh." and then she went to her fanny pack to draw out a twenty dollar bill. because apparently, you have to be really effing stoned to try to pass off fifteen plus two cents to your cunning pharmacy tech.

even on my worst days, I'm pretty sure I remember that red means stop and green means go and you should never trust a stranger.

so I'm home now, about to enjoy a glass of passion fruit rum and an action movie and relish the lack of outside stupidity encroaching on my space.

the goods: volunteering

today after work, I volunteered at the humane society's first ever phone-a-thon dedicated to thanking local people who have recently donated money to the shelter. everyone was very appreciative of the personal phone call, and most donors expressed their thanks for my own volunteering mission-- a general acknowledgement of good deeds all around. IHS bought us pizza and soda for our time.

I was especially thankful for tonight after another mind-numbing day at the pharmacy. more "what do you mean my prescription isn't ready? yes, it's all your fault my doctor's office was all too excited to load me up on vicodin for the last 40 years and now suddenly is m.i.a." and me thinking to myself, "haha, sure, I only have management riding my ass daily about script count and meeting our projected sales dollars so I SINGLE-HANDEDLY TOLD YOUR INSURANCE COMPANY TO TERMINATE YOUR COVERAGE UNEXPECTEDLY so you can be irate and threaten me with your impending transfer because you can't afford $30 for pills and will now go home and get pregnant without your birth control and pop out some kid I will end up supporting with my tax dollars because you spend all your money on iced coffees and need welfare. haha, joke's on you, biatch!" and "yes, I do control the computer system and tell it to take forever so I can smell your stinky pits for these extra tender moments."

like I said, it was nice to reward someone else's thoughtful behavior and contribute in some small way to making someone else's day.

miracle

on Saturday, I went grocery shopping. I know, the horror. I had a brief conversation with both the checkers at winco and Albertsons-- and decided I had enough human interaction for the day and went straight home. I then spent over an hour in the bathtub, totally submersed except for my nose and mouth, and listened to nothing but my breathing and heartbeat and realized how easy it would be to end both.

never fear, readers. as long as britney keeps dancing and gummy worms are available, I'll be around. my half-birthday was yesterday, so I'm quite aware of my impending age-related death.

so I propose a challenge to overcome these overwhelming (at times) feelings to free fall into the black abyss. the month of march will consist of a post each day dedicated to something I love, appreciate, and all that mushy stuff. my goal is to derive an on-going positive attitude and maybe even pass it on to you.

rose-colored glasses, here I come.

AFHV, you got me.

do you ever feel like your life is one consecutive punchline after another?  seriously, if this is candid camera, you can stop taping now. over. waving white flag. done.

some recent tidbits of conversation, for your amusement always.

the "andrea actually IS a banana-- yellow on the outside, white on the inside" confirmation:
customer: are you japanese?
me: no....
customer: what is your background?
me: [struggles] korean.
customer: my daughter-in-law is japanese. but she's full-blown japanese. raised there and everything.
me:oh, that is very cool! [smiles through pain]
customer: you were raised here. i can tell. [winks]
me: [resists temptation to gag]
customer: you are the best possible combination.
me: oh. have a nice day!


the "let's force andrea into an identity crisis" moment, as if finding out i'm no longer a virgo wasn't bad enough:
customer: [looks at my name tag] YOU ARE NOT ANDREA.
me: ummm.... my name is andrea.
customer: I KNOW WHO ANDREA IS AND YOU ARE NOT ANDREA.
me: ummm... my name is andrea too. there is another andrea who works here, but my name is andrea too.
customer: oooooh. ok.


the "ohmigosh, you're right!" lightbulb moment:
my brother: you need to get a boyfriend so you can boss him around and make him drive you everywhere.


the "this is why i should use self-checkout... screw coupons" realization:
me: [proffers employee rewards card to checker]
checker: do you work for [insert company name here]?
me: i do.
checker: what do you do?
me: i'm a pharmacy tech.
checker: that's so amazing! that's so awesome! wow!
me: it's really not that glamorous. really.
checker: oh, but you do such important work.
me: [feeling very uncomfortable with the unsolicited patronizing of selling drugs] it's really not...
checker: i'm so happy for you! that is just so great. you have a great job.
me: [smiles and goes home to cry in shower]


the "hell yes, my job IS great" moment:
me: has he used this medication before? [gestures to mother's small child]
mom: no, he hasn't taken many drugs.
kid: i don't take drugs.
mom: well, yes, this is a drug. it's not illegal though.
kid: I DON'T TAKE DRUGS.
mom: yes, yes, this is a drug.
kid: what.... no.... [facial expression of horror/disappointment/shock ensues]


the "seriously, how does your skull not just give way to the massive empty space where your brain should be?" moment:
me: just print your name and phone number here. [hands over receipt for refund]
customer: anywhere?
me: on the lines here [points with pen to clearly marked lines "customer name" and "phone number"]
customer: just print my name?
me: yes. and phone number.
customer: and phone number?
me: yes.
customer: what do i do?
me: it's ok... just print your name and phone number.
customer: sign my name? where do i sign?
me: PRINT your name, please.
customer: i'll just sign.
me: ok.
customer: and my phone number?
me: [finds happy place]




hoping your days are filled with endless amusement, although perhaps in the form of actual amusement-- like disneyland, wonder-filled biking adventures, or good ol' fashioned TV.

not the worst year

2010, you're over!

here are 10 things I love about you:

1. becoming comfortable with who I am. I'm kind of strange, but I hope someday that someone will find these qualities endearing instead of neurotic-- or perhaps a healthy combination of the two terms. I mean, who could possibly pass up a girl wearing these fleecy gems?








2. not expanding my playlist artists. some things are just not worth changing.









3. losing 3.5 years' weight in less than 6 months. how did I do it, you ask? eat right and exercise. according to the numbers, I lost 17% of my body weight and averaged over 200 calories per day burned offby exercise. Jillian Michaels would be so proud. goodbye, size 4! I hope to never see you again.









4. Rosie, my iPhone, became my technology bff. I love her truly-- I accept her flaws, show off her goods, and sleep next to her every night.









5. blogging. public oversharing has never felt so cathartic, productive, and egotistical. thank you, readers.

6. expanding my sushi palate. eel is still my favorite.























7. overuse of my go-to mirror shot. I have a cell phone camera and am not afraid to flaunt my narcissism!























8. after almost a year as a part-time floating pharmacy technician, I landed a steady gig at another store so I could give up the vagrant lifestyle. splitting my week between two pharmacies that are vastly different from each other has been a true blessing. I was feeling pretty down about my job mid-year, but a few pep talks and a change in scenery has helped my attitude immensely.









9. riding my pedal bike, jogging around a track field, and remembering sweating publically is not as bad as I think it is. well. sort of. at least I got some good pictures out of my embarassing encounters with the world.









10. creating memories with others and trying to return the favor.









... and the beat goes on.

fleeting

right now, I am enjoying my Christmas tree.






right now, I know my career must involve creativity and using my hands. last night's Christmas card-making gusto gave me the biggest sense of accomplishment in a great while.






right now, the scale says I weigh the same yet I feel like a gooey chub ball. so please excuse my self-portrait of just my face... self-esteem is low these days.






right now, I should focus on this message:






right now, I appreciate my dry and corny sense of humor because I will never be bored.






right now, my insides feel kind of like this:






right now, I love tumblr. it's the last thing I look at before bed, one of the first things I see when I wake up, and I find myself sitting on the pot long for longer than usual just scrolling and tapping and saving images.














right now, I am thankful my apartment's landlord keeps our stairs and parking lot relatively ice free. you know one of my greatest fears is falling backwards down a flight of stairs, right?






right now, I think broccoli would be more popular if it would just taste like bacon.






right now, I can't stop listening to Taylor Swift's "speak now" album. it's like the booze-free, more fiddle-ish version of pink!'s "funhouse" album. you should YouTube tay's acoustic version of "haunted."






right now, I'm still depressed after finishing season 2 of joss whedon's "dollhouse" tv series. so amazing. so many "WHAT THE EFF JUST HAPPENED?!!!" moments. I suppose watching all 12 episodes in a row only contributed to the feeling of being sucked into yet another canceled tv show's world. sigh.







right now, I don't know how to separate complicated from simple, realizable from abstraction, motivation from desperation.

but, like always, I'll ride it out. thanks for reading.