May 2012
16 posts
ok internet off to chaos in tejas see you later!!!
reasons to be cheerful
i hate my job.
i hate my friends.
i want to live somewhere that doesn’t suck.
i have no goals.
i don’t think i like my boyfriend that much.
i wanna buy a house, dad.
remember when a forty used to get you drunk?
pussy-strut:
no
fomo
sinus infection on a saturday night.
will i be alone forever.
babygirlvagner:
i need feminism because puppy bowl
i never go out on friday nights because cody & i always have a horrible fight.
but on the plus side i discovered my dog loves beer. like, lovesit.
April 2012
21 posts
pizza is my boyfriend.
tv is my boyfriend.
2 tags
i definitely always forget how much it hurts to size my ears up.
SO MUCH.
saw Midnight last night
haven’t moshed so hard in ages.
every part of me feels broken & awesome.
Wanna quit my job.
I want to quit my job.
“What men mean when they talk about their “crazy” ex-girlfriend is often that she...”
– Lady, You Really Aren’t “Crazy” (via girl-violence)
pretty much true always & forever.
bonecat:
consistant state of post-alcohol-binge depression and self loathing
part 9000
DRUNK ETSY-ING IS MY FAVORITE THING.
i spilled lasagna all over my oven so instead of eating or cleaning i am buying things.
1 tag
i like to use drinking as an excuse to eat drunk food even if i’m not drunk.
“yuck! this tastes like old ladies!”
– after biting into native food’s rose-cardamom cupcake. (via yoursecretary)
best quote from my 6 months at tazza d’oro was when megan described the cranberry autumn tea as “it tastes like licking someone’s mom.”
half way through my 12-day work week.
but the good news is i got a raise so i’m making $$$ & i’m moving in with cody & pat (probably) so i’ll be saving $300/mo, & they didn’t cancel my food stamps.
whatever.
1 tag
so tired so hungry
March 2012
28 posts
San Francisco is real dystopian these days. #aniphoneineverypot
I just realized that my main fashion influence could be called ‘crusty Oakland high schooler at buffalo exchange with her mom’
I got scared that Darby would be afraid of me when I get back from Berkeley. So I sang ‘don’t you forget about me’ to him and he ran away. Oh well.
