And then I impulsively decided to go back on the Brooklyn idea and move to San Francisco for the sake of a tall Southern man.

If I wasn't behind on so many deadlines, I would write a story about my therapist's skepticism at my use of the phrase "having feelings for each other" and --'s guileless, certain, immediate use of the phrase, because it's odd and funny and maybe it would be useful to write a story about a few words.

There's a difference between "I miss this person" or "I want this person back" and "I still can't believe this person did the equivalent of, like, saw off my arm" and "I am in horrible awe at how completely this person used me up until there was nothing left" and "It's crazy I had to change my entire fucking personality in order to escape from this ( Read more... )

Banner headline on TV in exercise room as I entered the building:
BIN LADEN KILLING: DOES IT MATTER IF IT WAS LEGAL?

Seriously? Since when has our government paid any attention to any fucking law? It's been twenty years, at least. I mean, it would be great if we could start paying attention to that fact now, but I don't believe that you are ( Read more... )

Chicago, you win.
I guess I'm moving to Brooklyn.

today is one of those days where my life right now seems like the outcome of a series of successive failures and I feel physically sick.

My mom's stinginess, disorganization, and lack of basic empathy have been raised to exasperating and expensive new heights.

Every time I depend on my family they find a way to use it against me. I guess the answer to that is, I need to work on taking any dependence I have away from them, because I just can't deal with this.

Best Boyfriend of All Time.

Fuck New York.

Yesterday I was looking out the window on the red line. It was in a tunnel so all I could see was my reflection. I thought that what I saw was primarily huge bangs, big square glasses, and somewhat oversized lips. A bit of a cartoon.

I'm going to try growing out my bangs in hopes of feeling I have a face again.