I can't believe October is almost over.

Oh my fucking God.

I called my mom a few days ago, asking her to send some rubber gloves cause the ones we were using in our apartment just weren't cutting it - stretched out, loose, and always somehow damp on the inside. The ones we use back home are hardcore - a hard core.

A few days later, I got this in the mail: (note the cheerful MSG label) 

( Read more... )

So it begins.

therefore I am a Capitalist. So I ask,

what's in it for me? What am I going to get out of this exchange?

My period's being weird again. Stop it with the spotting and open the floodgates, damnit!! Either I have it or I don't, stop the pussyfooting!

So, I just had my Electronic Copy Editing class, which is going to work with Macs. I'm going to die, that's what. We spent most of class editing raw stories that reporters had handed into my prof, who ( Read more... )

God, I hate packing to go back up to Boston. All the clothes that I had so painstakingly packed when I left for NY a couple months ago suddenly expand and refuse to be packed into one compact duffel. I hate my life in moments like these ( Read more... )

Smokey bitter ashy kiss, one that leaves me searching for the bottom of the glass as I try to put a finger on a lingering memory that I'm trying so hard to recall ( Read more... )

Even the soft fleece of my North Face feels scratchy as I dig into my eyes, rubbing furiously and willing it to sop up all this hot moisture that's come out of nowhere. In the toilet I watch fat drops litter the tile and think it's sadly hilarious that I have enough salt water in me to generate a healthy amount of piss and tears at the same time. ( Read more... )

So the itinerary has changed - it's official.

August 13, Wednesday
Qantas Airlines 10:20 AM 13hr 20min

Arrive in LAX 6:40AM

4 hour layover of doom

American Airlines 10:40Am 5hr 44min

Arrive in JFK at 7:44PM

This is, just in case, you know, I die or something along the way and I don't show up at JFK the night of August 13.

So I'm quietly sitting at my desk, pulling up a new potential story when Jessie sends me this text:

omg they call thongs fart slicers!!!!
I just about died laughing. My deskmates looked at me like I was crazy, but whatevs. It's too hilarious not to laugh at.

FYI: "thongs" = flip flops here.