Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Time For A New Post

I guess...


I honestly have nothing I want to write about this week. Realized last week that I wasn't changing the default font to match the font chosen for the first blog entry, so there's that lovely little tidbit. Not that anyone asked. 

Right now, I'm listening to "Her Voice" from The Little Mermaid on Broadway. I might be a little wet. Wow, probably TMI, but I'm writing an entire book about dicks and shit so is that really a problem at this point? Go listen to it if you've never heard it before. I'm sure every woman will sigh and men will probably scoff and mumble how they can sing like that if they wanted to (but deep down they really want to melt into that man's arms). What? Who said that? Not me. 

Anyone else usually enjoy the villain more than the hero? Prince Eric and Ariel are cool and all, but URSULA IS MY MAIN BITCH. Her songs have so much more depth rather than, "I'm a young teen and my dad is a jerk for not letting me go have fun!" Shit, Ursula is all, "People said I was a bitch, but I'm totally not..." as fucking lightning and shit is all around her. Totally not suspicious at all. Bad bitches don't play. 



Villains have the better story most of the time anyway. Who the hell cares about a Princess that started living with dwarfs or one that dances around a forest singing all the time? Give me that deep dark backstory with grit and body! The only shit villain I can think of at the moment is Gaston. GO FIND A DIFFERENT BOOTY TO CHASE, WTF.

Still listening to "Her Voice". That man could sing me to sleep every night if it were up to me. Instead, I grip my long ass body pillow and fall asleep wishing it was any man. Scratch that. I somehow still have standards even if I've been alone entirely too long. LOL WHAT ARE RELATIONSHIPS?

REPLAYS "HER VOICE" FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME

You guys think Ursula had back problems? Those melons look heavy

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

I Missed Motivation Monday and That Beautiful Alliteration

Well, fuck

My apologies for the profanity right above, in the past posts, and in future posts. I curse a lot. I read somewhere once that it's a sign of intelligence. Did I research it further to confirm it? Nope. We can stick to it being true.


Anyway, I wanted to talk a little bit about the novel I'm currently working on. I finished graduate school in March of this year - M.F.A. in writing, 3.88 GPA. Go, me! Shame on me for slacking during a few classes, but I was working full-time and didn't give a shit a few times. Can you blame me? (Probably)

In order to finish the program, I had to write a thesis. Normal thing for graduate students as most of you probably know. There were only two guidelines besides length (80-100 pgs):

-Poetry had to be one poem per page, single-spaced
-Fiction and Non-Fiction had double-spaced



I looked up the guidelines a semester early, knowing I should get a head start. Thank fuck I did, otherwise, I would have been screwed in every sense of the word. Or lack thereof I should say since I had to stop seeing some hook-ups to get shit done. Let's say it sucked. No...it was stressful. Yes, no double entendre with stressful. 

There had been this idea in my head for some time, but I never actually sat down to write it. Online dating and the hell that is truly is. From the absolutely insane guys that scarf down giant burritos to impress me to the tame men that impersonate Jesus in their free time. Don't forget the weird sex encounters. I may have accidentally tried butt stuff once. 

I just wanted to throw out some of my favorite parts I've written so far so some people that aren't getting scenes sent to them random hours of the day can see what I've been up to recently. I really hope to get this published once I'm finished and it definitely helps to have people that would be interested going forward too. 

"I eventually found myself with his dick in my mouth. I really can't explain how it happened. We were kissing and next thing I know I was kissing his cock with my entire mouth. Weird how that happens, huh? Or does it only happen to me?"

"His tongue lazily licked around like he was licking an envelope closed. No, wait, that might have actually been nice. It was more like he had peanut butter stuck in his mouth and my vagina just happened to be in front of him during this unfortunate time."

"I offered him my fries, and he took that as an opportunity to unzip his pants. Now, please laugh with me as I explain the irony of offering him my French fries and him whipping out his own French fry of a penis in return."

"Did I need to take a shit on this guy to get him to leave or what? I guess I could have asked him to leave, but that's rude. Ruder than taking a shit on him? Debatable." 

Those are a few very short excerpts from my novel in progress and there's so much more to go! Here's to finishing it and getting it published! 

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Nobody Likes You When You're 23

Wait, 24 definitely sucks more

I know I JUST posted the other day, but I was in bed staring at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling (they weren't shining for me. You lied Owl City,) and I just started feeling this overwhelming sense of dread. Nothing too big, no existential crisis, just..."oh, fuck."


Me realizing I'm not adulting correctly and I'm expected to actually be adulting at this very minute:


Everyone else in the back cheering cause I make a really good example for everyone else my age that is sort of adulting cause at least they aren't me!

Seriously, think for a minute. 22, you're either just getting out of college, still in college, or have a steady job that is working great for you. 23, people are still figuring things out, kind of floating around and seeing how things work. Actual adults still think it's okay for you to be confused about bills and how life really works. Then 24 hits and suddenly you have to be grown-up. *Shivers*

My mom is suddenly dropping more and more hints about grandchildren and asking me when I'm going to settle down with someone.


"I just thought that, since you're getting older, you'd have been with this one forever." She casually said to me after I ended things with the one guy I had been seeing.

"I'm 24!" I laughed back at her. The longer I studied her face, the more I saw she was serious. What the actual shit?

How? Why? I'm still considering myself a kid when it comes to making decisions! This isn't..no!  I want to go back to 21 when I was still in college and allowed to make stupid decisions like getting drunk mid-day when my ex broke up with me on Valentine's day and eating half a pizza only to throw up in the sink and then eat more pizza and watch Disney movies! I want to live across the hall from my best friend and do stupid college papers and have that be my biggest complaint. Shit, now I'm over here worrying how I'm going to pay my car bill and actually be able to move out of my parent's house before I'm 30.

Send help.

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

That Time In Wisconsin

RockFest, anyone?

Don't ask why Sarah and I went halfway across the country to attend a rock festival because we have no real answer. When people ask us, we mostly look at each other and say, "Uh..." 

Let's be real for a second. How could we not have gone to this amazing festival? First of all, there were bands like Rob Zombie, Avenged Sevenfold, Slayer, Volbeat, Shinedown, the list goes on and on and on. Believe me, it was four days of absolute bliss. At least I thought it was going to be. 

So everyone knows: I'm not a camping person. I wouldn't say I was miserable, but I definitely wasn't happy. I was a little better when I gave up on trying to look like a decent human being and skipped daily showers since it was a long, uphill walk to the communal showers where I found a used band-aid in my stall and someone else yelled there was a bloody tampon in theirs. It got even better when I stopped trying to hide the fact that I poop because there were literal piles of shit in the port-o-potties. Let me tell you, when you see shit smeared across the port stall, you kind of lose any hope that you will make it out of it all unscathed. 

We got there early in order to be considered to win backstages passes. We, of course, didn't win shit. However, we did win the absolutely amazing thunderstorm package. Bad storms were making their way in and all we had was a discount tent and a car. I remember waking up around 1 or 2 from loud rumbles of thunder in the distance. I shuffled on my air mattress and tried to squint over at Sarah. I wasn't sure if she was awake or asleep, but I was already bugging out. How the fuck are we supposed to survive these bad storms in a god damn tent?  

Fast forward about an hour and the rain is pelting our tent with such power that you'd think it was hailing. Sarah moves around on her mattress and I see her sit up and look at me. 

"We should run for the car." She started to grab her stuff. Phone, speaker, anything electronic she had in there. I grabbed my phone and my damn stuffed animal. A bright burst of lighting went across the sky simultaneous with the loudest clap of thunder I heard up until that time (not long after that I almost shit myself out in a different thunderstorm but that's a different story). Sarah probably saw my face was like:


but I didn't have time to care what Sarah was seeing. I was about to bolt to the car as fast as my short little legs could take me. I stood outside the tent under the lowered canopy waiting for Sarah to close the tent and get alongside me so I didn't just ditch her (on the real, I'd ditch ANYONE if it was something more serious like a bear or Sasquatch I don't know.) Our little god damn blow up pool was sagging now with all the excess water building up, it was bound to break any minute now and it pretty much did the next morning. 

We get in her car dripping wet head to toe from that short run from the tent to the car. We start laughing. Kind of manically. 

"Well, this is it!" I laughed and wiped water off my face, pushing my hair out of the way.

"Probably for the night, look at the radar." Sarah showed me her phone and pointed to a spot on the map, "This is us." A small dot in the middle of a giant storm-colored mess. We looked at each other and laughed again. 

In the morning, we went into the tent and, wouldn't you know it, the entire thing was soaked. Mostly my side cause that's just my luck. I had two books in there that were ruined. My mattress and sheets were beyond soaked. So we did the only thing we could think.

We laid our mattresses out in the sun and hung our sheets all over the canopy and across her car like the most white-trash thing you've ever seen. We drank some cans of Mike's Hard Lemonade and sat by our deflating pool as new people drove in and stared. 

I wish we had a sign that said "Jersey" cause it would have explained a whole hell of a lot. 

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Better Late Than Never

Not a period reference


I'm late with my second blog post. Part of me was hoping to do a post every Thursday, but we see how that worked out. I knew what I wanted to write about days ago, but I'm a slacker. On with it, then!

I met this guy. He is really quite amazing and probably everything a girl could ask for: charming, cute, caring, actually wanted to be seen with me in public. You know, all the important things. Especially that last one. Or not, I may be asking for too much on that one. 


Anyway. Imagine that! A man that honestly wants me and likes me and all that good stuff. (Though I'm pretty sure the sex helped sway him a little.) So, you obviously know what I did.
I GOT OUT OF THERE FASTER THAN A DOG WHEN IT HEARS A CHIP BAG OPENING. 
Sabotage? No, I'll go with stupidity. I essentially had the dream man, but then I spooked. 

"I thought he was going to be my future son-in-law!" My mom was very upset when I told her I ended things. "Are you serious?" She yelled and slammed down a bowl of white rice onto the dinner table. Her squinty eyes were somehow bigger than normal in a more almond shape, probably straining them so I could better see the disappointment. "You make your own decisions, but I don't agree with you." Thanks for having my back on that one, mom. 

"You wanted me to be unhappy just so I was with someone you like?" I tried. It didn't work. Her mom-beam was too over-bearing-- I MEAN...powerful. Yeah, powerful. Heh.

"You looked happy." Her pursed lips told me she was done with the discussion. Forget what I want, right? My dad sat at the other end of the table quietly like this: 



Truth is? This guy wrote me a love letter of sorts explaining how happy he was with me. Telling me that he felt exhilarated every time we were together. That he was falling for me.
I felt nothing.

How could I possibly allow it to go on anymore if I knew it wasn't going to be worth it for him? What if I stayed with him purely because he was a good guy that my mom happened to like and then a year down the road I realize I won't ever have feelings for him? And maybe a year down the road I could have ended up really liking him, no one knows how things like that work. But there's always the off chance I was just wasting his time. That's not fair for anyone. 

Or maybe I'm just a selfish asshole that has standards way higher than they should be? 

Tune in next week (or really later this week, who the hell knows what I'm doing) where I make more bad decisions!