A note about being excited and scared at the same time.

I am finally, finally, finally hitting the road this summer! June 29th, one way ticket to Memphis. I can't believe it! I'm ready for the adventure, the ups and downs, the scary what-do-we-do-nows, the passion, the experience, the unknown, the people that we'll meet, the things we'll do, ah! So much to look forward to. Here's to finally taking my dream and making it real. Be it only a month, be it two years, as long as I've gone out there with an open heart and taken in the experience of being on the road with nothing but the pack on my back then I will be proud of my decision. I am already proud of myself. Here we go!

Isn't that beautiful?

One time I was tripping on acid with two of my friends and we happened to notice a humungous tree that was growing out of the ground diagonally, as if it were reaching for the tree across the street. We all agreed, why would he want to grow straight up anyway? And then my one friend looked at us and he said, "that's 300 years of love in slow motion." Isn't that beautiful?

dreams of molly

meet on a corner

share the candy stripes

stand on another corner

walk

find the tunnel

hear the leaves, see them fall

leave the tunnel

enter the drip drop world

well to do spiders, prime real estate

swing by the boats

follow the red sand

climb the rocks, lay on the best one

listen to the strength smash against the rocks

breathe the static electric air

laugh at the static electric tree

laugh at each other

they lay on their favorite rock while the other wanders into a new world

he returns, they’re still laughing

jump on the rocks

hold her hand, don’t let her fall

feel unbreakable, fall

realize you are not unbreakable, bleed, learn, move to a new world

feel at peace with your world

say hi to your trees

realize you need gum

unpreparedly go into the gum aisle

lose control with laughter

there’s so much gum!

leave, keep walking

take a walk on the wild side

your friends are right there

3/26/10

When I woke up this morning he was in my bed and it felt good to wake up in the arms that kept me warm all night. There is a man in the seat in front of me with his Sony headphones around his neck. He’s sleeping with his jaw hanging down. I sleep that way too. I find myself on the upper deck of an enormous bus, trees naked with winter whizzing by, exploded rubber and rotting carcasses lining Route 65. I make it sound dreadful but it is actually a beautiful day. The beginning of spring, cold but sunny. No snow, no clouds. The bus is headed toward Indianapolis and then to Columbus where I will be dropped. I started today in Chicago.

This is a trip I have made many times when I was younger but I am still young and the trip is no less tedious. As much as it annoys me, I have fallen victim to the impatience of a generation overwhelmed by speed and technology. The particular ride from Chicago to Columbus, in the past, was always quite painful as it represented my return to a city where I was going to school 7 hours away from some boy that I loved. I gaze out the window and I think about him for a couple of moments. . . but we don’t really know each other anymore. I feel saddened by this but then my nasal cavity becomes overpowered by the ever familiar scent of cow manure and I remember that I love living in the city. Flat farm land, though it is reminiscent of home and should probably bring about feelings of being a young girl in a life that was so easy, makes me feel weird.

Driving through Indiana I can’t help but notice the ridiculous religious billboards every two miles. One of my favorites, “CATHOLICS. . .can always come home” insinuates that home should be somewhere in Indiana if you claim to be Catholic, I would assume in the vicinity of the billboard, and that if you are not Catholic you can’t come home? Really some strange and confusing stuff going on out there in Jesusland.

Anyway, I drift in and out of consciousness for most of the bus ride but when I am awake I am jealous of the road and I want there to be no destination. I want to have paid $40 for a cross country road adventure or at least to be traveling toward the Pacific but I will end up in Ohio and I will see some of my best friends which will be great and also this guy who I thought highly of until he proved me wrong about that and then I will get back on the bus in three days headed back to Chicago where I will spend one week full of regret and hatred and then I will be fine again. I always end up fine.

o__O

The way I am confused is not to be confused with being confused because I'm too dumb to catch on. I'm confused about what you are doing with your life and why I don't have any desire to do those things. I see people with their lives so sorted out and can't help but think to myself, "um, hey self, did you miss some chapter in your life where they taught you how to be an actual adult? because what the fudge are you doing?" Like, the things that motivate me are not success and money. Money stresses me out and stuff but that's because I get hounded all day every day by bill collectors. I really do not care/could not give less of a shit about it. Take it all, man. None of it's mine anyway. Saving money is boring unless it's for a specific cause such as buying a vehicle or going on vacation or helping your friends/family through something.

There's a side of me that has absolutely no idea why anyone cares about anything. People do things like open savings accounts and put money in them but why? I know why. What I don't know is why I don't have the same attitude. I can never sit still long enough to "plan a life" or "have a savings account" or what have you. In my mind I feel as though my time here is limited (I'm 24) and so why should I save save save when I can experience everything? If my future isn't guaranteed then why am I going to sacrifice things that I want to be doing right now so that maybe I have a few extra bucks when I'm 65? If I live to be 65 then I'll figure all that out then. I'm fine with just "getting by" as long as I'm surrounded by the people I love and as long as we keep laughing and holding on to each other then what else could possibly matter?

What I never want to ask myself is, "why didn't you do that?"

Dr. Internet

My brain has been assaulting me for the last few months which is a normal activity for it except this time it was telling me things like, "YOU HAVE AIDS! FOR SURE!" and "HEADACHE = SYPHILIS/LOVECHILD/BRAIN TUMOR/FATAL INSOMNIA!" I kept being like, "No, Brain! Stop it! I'm trying to apply for jobs that will give me health insurance!" It wasn't working. Instead of applying for new jobs I started using the internet to diagnosis all of the diseases that I was certain had infested my body.

Real quick: did anyone know that such a thing as fatal insomnia exists? I mean, whoa body. Not cool. Anyway...

Here's a tip: do not ever EVER look up any symptoms on the internet unless you have like, a hemorrhoid or something that is easy to compare to a google image. (I once helped a friend diagnose her hemorrhoid with the internet and trust me, there is no room for error when diagnosing those giant ass-vein-balloon things.)

Alright, guess what happens if you ask the internet what might be causing your headaches, loss of appetite, pelvic pain, anxiety, etc?...it will tell you that you are probably already dead but if you happen to still be alive, you will not be for much longer.

So if you tell the internet that you have flu-like symptoms it will tell you that you have:

1.) BODY CANCER! No doubt!

2.) HIV! (yea, if you're lucky! your shitty immune system probably already progressed to AIDS!)

3.) That tingle in your foot? Yea, that's the first indicator of SMALL POX.

4.) You are definitely pregnant!

5.) LATE-ONSET SIDS! What?

6.) The disease where all of your teeth and maybe even your eyebrows fall out!

7.) Just dig your grave already, lady.

I'll stop there but basically the internet tells us that any symptom ever can be caused by anything from the common cold to FUCKING CANCER/AIDS/FETUSES! Dude. Not cool. Common cold > Cancer/AIDS/Babies. Okay well maybe babies are better than having a cold all the time but I am not quite ready to grow another human inside of my body (but if that were the case I would love the baby and be the best mom ever but that's not the case yet). Sorry, future babies. I will (hopefully, maybe) reproduce someday so just be patient. For now I must remain a creepy cat lady with a flat tummy.

So I spent everyday for the last who-knows-how-long-felt-like-forever googling different symptoms that were most likely psychosomatic yet ALL were listed under "possible symptoms" of HIV infection or some form of cancer. Needless to say, I started spazzing myself out until my good friend/coworker, in a frantic attempt to shut me up, made me go get an HIV test and she told me that if I say anything else about having chronic diseases she will beat the shit out of me and never give me any of her trail mix.

Good news: I don't have HIV! and I probably don't have cancer but I am rapidly becoming a hypochondriac thanks to the stupid internet.

I'm kidding. I love you, Internet. You're my boo and all, just please stop telling me I'm going to die.

Then I went home and ate the shit out of some crab rangoon: see above right.

A Vintage Giant

I've made it a habit as of late to swing by Myopic Books (a used book store in Chicago with cats!) at least once a month and I've had a fair amount of luck so far but this^ copy of Ulysses is my most treasured find yet. I know that I am holding a very controversial literary masterpiece in my hands and all that but I am also holding what was once a gift to someone unknown from Susan, with love, in July of 1967. This particular copy was reset and published in 1961, so for 6 years was it Susan's? Maybe it was a gift to Susan and she felt compelled to pass it on. Did it sit on the receiver's shelf until April of 2010 when it took it's place on my nightstand? Maybe I'm the only person who is fascinated by the journeys made by inanimate objects. Even so, this book isn't a breeze by any means and the people who strive to read it are, as a whole, admired by me. I can't help but wonder how many eyes have studied its pages and I don't really know why it matters. I guess I like knowing that items such as this book have experienced love and I truly feel that this one has. I am delighted to own this copy of this book and I realize that I may sound slightly mad to some. Regardless, sometimes things are beautiful.

really.

I watched some dude take 25 minutes to eat his apple today. He knew I was watching him as we kept making eye contact. I don't understand this interaction but now I want an apple.

It creeps me out how we interact with people without actually interacting with them. What if it was normal for people to get on the subway and start introducing themselves? It would be annoying to most, I'm sure, but if that were the norm I wonder how our days would be different.

I'm going to go get an apple.

SHUT UP AND GET IN MY POCKETS.

Gaaaaaah. That bird is too heavy for its little head! But I want the bird to stay perched on it because look at them! Raindrops on roses and baby birds on kittens! Makes me all melty and warm inside. Ahhhhh.

Sex + Schizophrenia = ...

It was recently brought to my attention that when I talk about experiences at work I usually talk about male residents. I apologize for that and I really have no idea why other than there are more male residents here than female and the men tend to be more vocal and memorable, I guess. Anyway, I started to think about the conversations I have with my female residents and I realized there is a recurring theme: sex.

One of my residents came to my office recently and she told me, while visibly fighting tears, that she is having severe abdominal pain and she feels like there is a penis in her ass. Psychosomatic delusions occur when someone is fixated on a certain idea to the point that they actually feel pain or pleasure because of it. This resident is always delusional about her father. She thinks he is constantly trying to find her and hurt her or poison her even though she hasn’t seen or heard from him in over 20 years. What I’ve gathered from our conversations is that her father is a terrible human and he raped and beat her starting at a very young age. Obviously, I hate this man and I want to strangle him every time she comes to my office because he did such a good job ruining her life. I can’t do that, unfortunately, so I promise her over and over that he can’t hurt her anymore and that he will never be allowed in this building. She lives in constant fear of the opposite sex and when I walk past her room she is almost always laying in her bed in the fetal position like such a typical crazy person but she’s not just a crazy person. She is a woman and she has a story. Now you know part of her story. She’s trapped inside a mind that isn’t hers, she didn’t make it that way. Yes, a lot of people go through awful shit when they’re young and still lead seemingly normal lives but not everyone can do that and that’s what needs to be understood about mental illness. There’s no exact diagnosis, no real cure, no real cause. It just gets ahold of some people and doesn’t let go. Sometimes, it's initially a defense mechanism but as time goes on it gets harder and harder for these people to remember who they were before they had to retreat into the depths of their brain pieces to hide from their world. The mind is not something to fuck with because it always fucks back.

Other women that I talk to regularly struggle with an ongoing sense of extreme guilt for having abortions or for being promiscuous in the past. Guess how these women were raised? Catholic. I’m sorry and I don’t want to bash religion right now but it sparks my curiosity when I find a common denominator such as fucking Catholicism. Anyway, I’m always telling women that if they made a decision no matter how many years ago it was, they made it for a reason. There was a reason they couldn’t have that baby right then and it does not make them bad people. Our society is so hard on women when it comes to baby making. I mean, no one WANTS to have an abortion. It’s not cool or anything. I’ve often thought about what I would do if I got pregnant right now and I have no idea because it would depend on so many things. I don't ever want to have an abortion. But what if I did? Would I keep it a secret? How would I afford it? Would I be able to live with myself? What would be the deciding factor? I just wish that people didn’t pass judgement about things like that. It’s not your body, it’s not your baby, and it’s absolutely none of your business. But, day after day, these women beat themselves up because they feel like they betrayed God and all that stuff.

Then, I have the women who are nuts because they’ve had sex with too many people. I cannot understand, and it will piss me off until the day I die, why anyone gives a shit about how many sexual partners anyone has. First of all, as long as people are using protection, fuck as many people as you want! I sure as hell don’t care about how many people you sleep with and I don’t think it says anything about anyone’s character besides they have a sex drive. Some people are just more sexual than others. Notice, I said “people”. Not men or women specifically; people. If it feels good and it’s what you want then go for it. These poor women think they’re going to burn eternally because they’ve had too many partners and it makes me sick. We shouldn’t punish ourselves for doing something that is completely natural. We crave it. It’s not a sin. We need it. End of story. One of my residents had a sign hanging over her bed for a few years that was a tally of how long she’d gone without sex because she thinks she had too much sex when she was younger. What? I want to understand why sex has so much power over us. Some people can have sex with hundreds of people and never once feel regret but other people have sex with 5 people and feel filthy. Is it because some of us are raised with the whole bullshit about how sex is only to be between one man and one woman and not until they’re married? (Can we just take a second to laugh at that? hahaha, BAH hahahaha.) I am pretty open-minded about sex and I think it’s a beautiful, wonderful thing but I was raised in an environment that enforced what I just said. I was always told to wait until marriage, yada yada, but of course when I didn’t wait my mom was there with books and lectures to educate me about what I was doing because she’s awesome and not clueless.

We all do shit that we probably shouldn’t and we’re all going to regret certain things but as long as we’re constantly learning and not judging ourselves then who cares? Be yourself. Be free. I’m not saying you should have sex with everything that moves. I understand that sex can be scary these days and it’s important to be educated/know how to protect yourself. All I care about is that we all do what makes us happy. If you’d rather spend an afternoon having awesome sex with a “friend” than go shopping with all the girls then do it. If it feels good, do it. If it used to feel good and it doesn’t anymore, don’t do it! If you only want to have sex with one man or woman your entire life then that’s awesome and go you! If you want to be celibate for whatever reason then may no one get in your pants! My point is that why can’t we all be raised or at least come to realize that life is too short to punish ourselves for “guilty pleasures”? As long as no one is getting hurt...there is nothing to feel guilty about. Be honest with yourself. Don’t end up like one of my residents and never be able to accept the fact that at one point you were young and you had the most fun you possibly could.

jarbles

I am a new person? I like me more? I have no idea. I feel so good these days, though. I’m sick! But I still feel good. I’m at work! And I still feel good. I have a dozen roses and an old MP3 player and a book and a keyboard and I'm doing things with all of them and it’s the best day I’ve had in this lifetime. No it's not. Right now, I love this. I don’t want it to change but I know it has to. Maybe it doesn’t? But I know I’ll leave eventually. Start over somewhere else. Lose weight. Gain weight. Lose it again. Love. Hurt. Love more. Stay somewhere. Hold someone. Sleep. Start. Stop. In. Out. Up. Down. Gain. Lose. Prosper. Suffer. It’s all good as long as there are people around to share it with. Love it with. I love all of my friends a whole lot and I always will but seriously...the way I feel about the people that I’m surrounded with now, even at work, is SO GOOD. I feel free and it’s amazing because I don’t explain myself to anyone ever. We all just get each other and that’s the end of it. As fucked up as it all can get sometimes it’s cool because there is actual love within all of us for all of us. It’s effortless. I trust it. Happy day to me and to you.

tributosaurus: hey dad

these days are going to keep moving

and they’re going to keep caring about things that don't matter

and eventually someone will figure it out

dissect all of these thoughts until they find me

ah, but I’m not in there, you know this by now

I’m nowhere to be found, that’s the answer

you can’t bring me back from anywhere that I'm not
take my things or I'll give them to you

consider me a flight risk but I’ve been flying for years

no one can see what I see

did you forget that I think about him every day?

you said you would give your life for me

and it upset you that you could do so just once

but you’ve been dead a while now

was I supposed to appreciate this?

I think I’d rather feel your arms around me now

than pick my brain trying to remember the sound of your voice
I promise to think about you always and with love

you wrote me a poem once so here’s something for you

I know you’d be proud of most of my life but there’s no comfort there

please let your soul be alive and rest itself in mine

I’m okay if you just visit from time to time

my heart is still strong for staying alive

and if I live for decades to come, I’ll be sure to tell your story to the ones I love

and to the ones who would have loved you

this will never do you justice, but you know I’ll do my best

I’ll do my best to love and be loved because of you

because you couldn't and I know you wanted to

all for you, I’ll do my best

This decade was stupid. Bring it on 2010...I have learned things.

2000: I firmly believe that I'm the only woman that started her period two minutes before the ball dropped us into this year. There were boys there, okay? It was humiliating. Too much info? Don't read my blog then. 

Also the year I entered high school. Bad hair and bras that were too big (denial). Puberty is the worst, especially when you're the oldest child with no douchey, uncool older siblings to learn what not to do from. 

Cheers to you, 2000.

2001: I don't remember much about this year besides getting my driver's license and starting to date my first boyfriend, Mike. I had an '89 Bonneville/sex machine and was convinced that I'd be married with children by the age of 23. 

Awkward, pubescent cheers to you, 2001.

2002: Let's see. I would've entered my junior year of high school now. I was huge into choir and more into chamber choir because we danced. Um, I quit the basketball team in order to begin my waitressing career at Bob fucking Evan's. This is also the year I started going to weird "rock" concerts with my friends that haunt me to this day. (Nickelback)

Indifferent cheers to you, 2002.

2003: The beginning of senior year. Oooo doggy! I really don't remember much of 2003. I do remember that my dad died in April of this year and that it straight fucked me up for a solid three years after. I'm okay now, though. I love and miss him every day. RIP Papa.

Get fucked, 2003.

2004: This year began my 1,460 day drinking binge. Undergrad at OU. Hey, I had fun, I graduated, whatever. I also met a lot of fantastic people that are now all getting married and stuff. This is also the year that I heard The Shins' song "Caring is Creepy"which led me to seek out other new bands that led me to fall in love with a new boy who helped me realize that I wasn't dealing with certain issues appropriately which led me to become the strong-ish lady that I am today. 

This year I also discovered my affinity for shoulder bopping and just how many friends/lovers this single dance move can get a woman.

Appreciative cheers to you, 2004.

*It's at this time in my life I should've thanked my Mom, Grandma, Poppy, Brother, and Sister for putting up with my bullshit and loving me through it all. I am still a loser but a much more appreciative loser because of you all. All my love to the moon and back forever. XO.

2005: Drunk. Study. Exam. Work. Drunk. Home for holidays. Drunk. Study. Exam. 

Just cheers.

2006: Drunk. Study. Exam. Work. Drunk. Home for holidays. Drunk. Study. Exam.

Just cheers.

2007: Drunk. Study. Exam. Work. Drunk. Home for holidays. Drunk. Study. Exam.

Just cheers.

2008: Huzzah! Piece of paper stating my very expensive education actually happened retrieved. Move to Chicago accomplished. Reunited with best friend from high school in small garden apartment. More new friends. Many jobs. Very poor. Baby kitten, The Future, retrieved! Drunk. 

Feverish cheers to you, 2008.

2009: This year has been incredibly wonky. Up, down, bop around, twist, turn, scream, laugh, love. Lots of love, yes. New, improved living situation. Actual job as friend to insane people but still very poor. ROTHBURY. Uncle teabags, so many of them. San Francisco. Love. Laughs, hard ones. More new friends = super family love action party pants explosion. 

Wide-eyed, very absorbent cheers to you, 2009.

2010: Seriously, bring it. I've learned some stuff.

Q: How did the past decade feel? 

A: Pretty much like I was trying to hump a bear: see above.

avoiding paperwork

You know. I've been working with mentally ill people for almost a year now and I still can't decide whether they are more free or more trapped than the rest of the population.

The facility that I work in is by no means a "lock down" or anything close. Our residents, the ones that are mentally and physically capable of doing so safely, are free (and encouraged) to go out into the community as they please. Some of them go out for walks along the lake, some go pan handle at the Jewel Osco until they make enough money to buy a King Cobra, some frequent local coffee shops and do odd jobs like take trash out in order to earn a free cup 'o joe. So, aside from financial limitations and a curfew rule most of the residents here have total freedom.

Now I ask myself, "Okay, but how free can you be when your thoughts are clouded with voices?" 

It's not freedom in the sense that most people think of it but these people are the only people I've ever met who are 100% themselves all of the time and no one judges them for it. And if people do judge them as soon as they find out that they're schizophrenic or bipolar their actions are usually excused. They aren't putting on fronts for anybody because they can't. Symptoms of mental illness can certainly come and go but when I come to work and the first thing I see is a fifty year old man doing the dance that he has to do before getting on the elevator which often causes him to miss it when it comes, I always think to myself, "Holy shit, that is serious honesty." Imagine not being able to be anything other than what you are. 

I'm not saying that being mentally ill is super cool and us freedom seekers should strive to get diagnosed but I am saying that I love these people and admire their gusto. Not all have gusto, but just like the rest of the population the ones that do are pretty memorable. Already today I've gotten three high fives from different residents. Good, strong high fives, too.

Sidenote: There's currently a pretty big debate going on in the state of Illinois that directly affects the people that I work with. Some big-whig douche bags think it'd be great to make more money by closing residential facilities like the one I work in down and placing the people that live in them into group homes spread throughout Chicagoland where they would have little to no structured care. The bottom line is that these people are living here for a reason. They need a nursing staff to dispense their meds, they need their meals prepared for them, they need continuous support from social workers. So, if you feel that this is ridiculous and have a chance to vote or stand up for a lot of people who have trouble standing up for themselves then please be my guest.

You have permission to do me.

Is there anything about this picture that isn't the sexiest thing you've ever seen? 

The answer is no.

But also, I had sex with this man's man in my dreams last night and it was "The Notebook's" sex scene multiplied by more awesome. Holy crap. I would've been content never opening my eyes again after that. In my dream he told me that, "I don't have anyone sensual in my life. I need you to be that for me." Um, yes. Anything you want me to be, Mr. Gosling.

But also, this man's lips actually kissed my face a couple months back. Yea. It was cool. I am so pathetic. But he is so hot. And even more so in person. 

Okay, I'm going back to sleep where I will attempt to lucid dream him back into my bed.

baby friends and helpless humans

today I saved a caterpillar!

he was on the sidewalk

and I was afraid he'd get squished 

so to the amusement of some passersby

I put him on a leaf and then under a bush

where he'd be safe and free to fashion his cocoon 

and fly away someday, free!

I walked away thinking I made a difference

in the life of a helpless creature

but then I came back 

and the bugger was in the sidewalk again

so I thought, "why in the world?!"

but then I realized that it's not up to me

none of this is up to me!

so I put him back under the bush

and out of my mind

I'm not in control now but I was for a minute

touch bodies

living about in my reckless world is easy if you live without thinking of anything that has made me who I am compared to who I was I am the same but no one knows that and with good reason they bring me to pieces and I patch them together again and again to know that you love and that I once loved too why am I so happy without you I could never be happy once you take my hand I won't stop until my tears have dried I love that I still love you always keep my hand in your hand in my reckless world I'll keep you close let me feed your emotions with my love my love is with you now let me touch your hand please keep my hand 

people are just busy sometimes

she can run along the shore

giggling uncontrollably

and she can gesture that you join

but the sun will warm her skin

so she'll split herself apart

cut herself open wide

feel the salt in the water

become heavy in her hollowed heart

I wrote this for you. (lie)

I am sitting in a little cafe stealing internets and watching people and pondering my very existence. For some reason, when I'm hungover my mind either berates me all day or it doesn't stop asking questions. Today is a question hangover. The most frequent question I asked myself is why am I/are we here? What if I wasn't here? I always wonder who would be affected the most and in what ways by my untimely death (besides my mom obviously). Is that morbid? I don't WANT to die I just want to know what would happen if I did. It doesn't feel morbid but then again I'm pretty darn numb at the moment and I probably shouldn't post this because it all of a sudden became depressing and now I'm just making words and waiting to see where this sentence leads me but it seems to just keep going in no real direction so I guess I'll put a period right here>. 

Today at work I learned for the 80 thousandth time that none of us can function correctly without love in our lives. It is just so important. The amount of evidence that supports the absolute need we all have for love and acceptance is pretty heavy. If you have two babies and one of the babies is raised in isolation and the other baby is constantly hugged and kissed one of them will probably end up a sociopath. Guess which one. 

Did the guy who invented the tofu dog ever eat a real hot dog? 

How is it October?? I'm pretty sure it was June last week. That's the unfortunate thing about growing up, they take away our summers. I never thought about how different my summer would be if I were working a full-time job and it was A LOT different mainly because I didn't even notice it was here. This is the first summer in my little life that I didn't go swimming once. I didn't get ANY sun. I'm not a huge advocate for "laying out" or anything but still. My weeks go by so quickly and it freaks me out a bit. 

I'm going to be 24 in exactly 2 months but where did 23 go? This is different than when years have gone by in the past. It's always like, "well, that flew by", but this year has been non-existent to me. All I can hope is that 24 is less of the stupid. Much of 23 has been spent making terrible decisions that only hurt me in the end. I will always convince myself that I can do anything at any time and I should never regret my decisions because it's what I wanted at that moment and if I hadn't done it I would just regret not doing it. I guess the only things I've learned are that even the nicest people can be closet assholes and to never eat another tofu dog as long as I live. Not everyone cares about my well-being, that's for sure. 

Someone told me the other day that I need to be selfish and that person is right. He said I "deserve" to be selfish. Thanks.

We all have room for improvement. I know that we'll all be fine. Tomorrow morning I leave for San Francisco. "Oh, that does me good."

I like pigeons. So what?

I browse the craigslist personals when I feel like making fun of people and it usually makes me giggle. However, it is absolutely disgusting the number of legitimate ads in existence that are married people looking to start affairs. That's so much worse than like, I dunno, falling accidentally into one with a coworker or something. People that rush themselves into marriage are actual retards. Communicate with your spouse before you start diddling your neighbor. 

I recently got on Skype in order to talk to a dear friend of mine who happens to live in Austria. He's my only friend on it and I don't ever search for people on Skype. The other day, though, this guy sends me an instant message accidentally because he was looking for a different Shea. We talked for a couple of minutes and realized that we live pretty close to each other and have a lot in common, blah blah. He's 26, I'm 23. He didn't have a picture of himself so I just figured he was some creeper until he opened up the video chat window and just so happened to be incredibly attractive. So, he's acting all ridiculous like we're soul mates that accidentally skyped into each other or something and then he tells me that he's married. It really pissed me off and then he continued to say inappropriate things to me for a couple of weeks. He kept trying to get me to meet up with him and plan all these times for us to chat while his wife would be at work. I finally blocked him because I'm not about to get caught up in that crap but still. Why get married if you still have wandering eyes? If you had bad sex before you got married then you're going to have bad sex while you're married.  If you were uncertain about marriage before you got married then you're going to flip the fuck out once you are actually married. It's not hard.

I'm not anti-marriage or anything but I wish people would think a lot harder about what it actually means to get married and stay married. It's about loving someone 100% and with all of your pieces forever and until always without hesitation and not putting that love at stake for anything or anyone. It's not easy and we're only human but I am a firm believer that true love exists but requires a decent amount of maintenance. Life is only an accumulation of experiences and our own individual experiences/how we interpret them are what define us so whatever you choose to do with your time is completely fine but if you choose to get married and produce baby humans then please be in it for the long haul. Thanks and happy Sunday!

My head hurts.