I know you think I lied to you. I know this is how you feel.
But it hasn’t been seven years. It’s been 2 weeks. Plus I wrote you every day for a month. So there’s that. Can we suck face now? Ok.
I’ve been at work for 1 hour and 44 minutes and all I have done so far is search for local you-pick blueberry farms (please note: as a lazy American there is a very good chance I will never follow through with doing this, but will instead spend December complaining about the fact that I can’t make a frozen blueberry smoothies or locate the United States on a map….whaaaaaatt????) and watch elephants taking baths on YouTube. I could feel bad about this, but seeing as my boss is painting her nails and watching Arrested Development on Netflix, I only feel like a slightfailure of the educational system. Plus nothing is more badass than an elephant taking a bath.
But I’ve had trouble with motivation lately. Perhaps it’s my 65 hour work week or the fact that the only thing that truly motivates me in life is my inner drive which apparently died the day I purchased a Roku, but I actually have a lot “in the works” I just can’t bring myself to do anything about it. For example, I am scheduled to take the GRE (graduate school admission test) in August and have received all of my study materials in the mail. But aside from rereading the flashcard for the word “apocryphal” and trying to determine which Dawson’s Creek episode I heard it in, I haven’t done so much as breathe in the same vicinity of my math tutoring book since purchasing it, which really is a problem since I can’t correctly do math even with a calculator. This is not an exaggeration.
I need to foster some creative energy. The good thing about the May Blogging Challenge was that I had to be borderline creative at least some point every day and since I am very much a deadline-driven person, the challenge of the challenge was actually quite fulfilling. But then June came and I catapulted into a feeling of depression and lack of life purpose like, if I’m not blogging about bugs crawling on my toothbrush, WHO AM I???, and WHERE DO I BELONG?, and WHAT COLOR IS MY PARACHUTE?
It’s been an existential crisis.
So I’m thinking in order to stronghold my creative potential I will have to develop a new project. I’ve been interested in establishing a greeting card line where I can capitalize not only on my deep understanding of human emotion, but also my strength as a phrasologist (not a real word).
Here is what I’ve come up with so far:
…cause Jews don’t celebrate Christmas.
IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE IRONIC!
I think I need to work on this.
Have a great day, lovebirds and otherwise unhappy single people of the world.
The girl contractually obligated to get a dragon tattoo
This is a rather disjointed blog post. So I’ve decided to think of this blog post as a Pinterest page representing my life. However I don’t understand Pinterest or enjoy it so there’s a very good chance it will just read like a really poorly constructed blog entry. Boo.
My vocabulary has gotten exponentially better since watching Dawson’s Creek. It’s like how I get wittier after watching Gilmore Girls and sluttier after watching Gossip Girl. Well, that’s only partially true.
I couldn’t possibly get wittier.
“My boobs feel like caves”
-something I just said out loud.
Tonight with my friend, Collin
fendercollin 11:45 pm
back a year ago or so you told me that I reminded you of a turtle!
fendercollin 11:45 pm
we were just talking!
and then I told you that you reminded me of a cherub and you got all mad
Last night at the concert I heard some girl say she was going to “snort a line of Molly.” I thought she was talking about my mother’s dog.
Sometimes I stare at my work purse for a really long time and feel guilty about the fact that it is leather and that some animal had to die so I could have this purse to fill with tampon wrappers and chewed gum. But then I remember they don’t sell real leather at Old Navy and my guilt just comes from being born an American.
The girl with kaleidoscope eyes
I’ts 11:48pm and I have no blog entry for the day.
I’m ashamed. I am embarrassed. I am not wearing any pants.
That’s not really relevant.
I’ve thought long and hard for a good 2 minutes about how to handle this and have decided not to sacrifice my May Blogging Challenge, but simply explain myself in the only way I know how. Dawson’s Creek:
I’m in love with Dawson and his creek, although I could use a little less Dawson and a little more creek if I’m being honest. My true love is Pacey.
Sigh, Pacey Witter.
Pacey Witter/Joshua Jackson/Charlie from Mighty Ducks was the first teen idol poster I Skotch-taped to the back of my bedroom door. Distinct memories of my 6th grade self talking to him and kissing him goodnight might embarrass most people. But in my case I’m simply using them as explanation for my lack of literary prowess today.
All the ladies (and some boys) will understand.
Goodnight and I’ll try harder tomorrow.
The girl who “doesn’t talk trash, just recycles it.” – Pacey Witter