I’ve developed this perception of myself that I’m a really bad and selfish person- probably because people are always telling me that. I’m just getting to a place where I don’t think that’s true. I always try and think of other people when I’m making decisions. Sometimes I mess up, but doesn’t everyone?

Actually, I think I’m a good friend. I try to do things for my friends. I listen to them talk about shit that I don’t actually care about. I support them in their endeavors. I’m there to be cried on. I never bug people when they owe me stupid amounts of money. And then even when they are being fucking awful, insensitive, disrespectful, and hurtful to me, I don’t say anything.

I don’t stick up for myself because I’ve convinced myself that I deserve it.

For once in my life, I’m doing something that is ALL about me. People are going to be very angry about it because it affects them. I really just can’t care anymore. I get so much anxiety over upsetting people, or making them unhappy or angry with me. I don’t do things for myself. I don’t practice enough self care. I need space to just be alone, reflect, and breath.

My heart hurts from caring too much. I feel naive.

I can’t keep going out of my way to do things for people that would NEVER do the same for me.

Fuck. Get me out of here.



I haven’t written in a while. Things have been nuts, crazy, wonderful, confusing, bad, and again CONFUSING.

I’ve done a lot of messed up things to get even, numb, away from it all. Basically nothing productive. Then Sandy came and fucked shit up for everyone. It’s all so surreal. This city will never be the same.

But this is my diary relationship blog. So that’s what I’m going to discuss.

I’m so low. I’m so worried. About me. About him. He’s my person. And I know that. And I think he knows that. We are hurting each other so much right now. I want to be a part of fixing him right now. I can see him spiraling. He can see me spiraling. I just want both of us to catch each other. I know we can. I know it’s not healthy to be codependent, but also isn’t it terrible to be like…. Dying? Ahhhhh this is so frustrating. I miss being a part of his life. It’s not even about sex or a relationship or anything anymore. I just want to be there for him and be with him. Like I want to be his friend. I sound forever lame and I know that. This is my sad post. Sorry guys.


My nightmares are now just really vivd dreams of happy moments with my ex. Likely moments. Last night, I slept for 3 hours. All three hours were occupied by us getting drunk, getting into an argument, making up, making out, making….. and then waking up in the morning with his face on my pillow. I can pick out the exact pigmentation of his bare back. I can trace the curvature of his profile from memory. I know his touch. His breath. All of it returns to me in my sleep. I can actually feel him kissing me.

And then I wake up in a state of extreme paranoia…. worried that my dog has somehow made it into my room to lick my face….. I mean, these things happen…. but so far, it’s just my memory.

I’ve been a huge creep and have interpreted every dream I’ve had into those stupid online dictionaries. All that any of them say is “this means you love the person” or “this is a reflection of your longing to physically be with a certain person”. I was hoping for an “AHA” moment, like…. no shit that’s why I’m dreaming of that.

Just like ugggh, stop it! Out of sight out of mind? I thought. My mind is far too cunning for my own good. I have been getting better at burrying it. Except for… you know. Drunk texting like a dumbstupididiotbitch.

Cherry on top? Today is a would-be anniversary…. AS WELL as a 2.5 year anniversary to my best friend’s death. I’d write a long thing about Em, but something needs to go in to my ACTUAL diary.

Love and drugs,

Pandas and hugs,


A Comical Conversation

So I’m home for a few days. That’s neither here nor there. What I’d like to discuss is how my family has the most fabulously absurd dynamic ever.

First, we’re political. More specifically, bleeding heart Kennedy liberals. However, in my father’s aging process, he has developed a new persona…. alter ego even. His new persona is that of a grumpy old tea-partier. He brings it to life every time my mother asks him to do something.

I am the youngest and only girl. My mother works as a speech pathologist, but her hours are half of what my fathers are and with much more flexibility. She took yesterday off to sit on the couch with me. and watch shitty movies. We then prepared my dad a delicious meal, and we all sat down to eat upon his arrival. When she asked my father to clear the table, the grumpy ass republican reared his ugly head.

My father went on a Romney inspired rant about how my mother was the 47% of our family. How everyone in this family is hell bent on redistributing his wealth. How there’s a “god damn” entitlement program happening under his own roof. And then it was taken a step farther when in retaliation my mother pointed out that all of the masculine and ‘american’ labor in my house was done by people that we can all assume are not legal citizens, and that my father was a god damn racist bigot who reduces the only black being in our house to the status of an animal (this would be my dog). This is a typical dinner conversation. We all did the dishes. My dog ate a stick of butter. That’s not necesarry information, but you should know how dope my dog is. Bernese Mountain Dog, it doesn’t get any better.

I like these conversations because it highlights how batshit insane our country is. Call me a socialist. I don’t care. We’re all people. It doesn’t make any sense for us to not treat everyone that way. As my mother once said… last weekend… “It’s fine to have more than you need, but when you have more, you give more. Why take from the people who don’t have anything to give?”

I like my parents.

Mediocre Decisions

Yesterday, I got dinner with my ex’s roommate. He was very insistent on not discussing the situation and not taking sides. Luckily he sucks at both of those things.



And now the only thing that I want to do is snuggle in my boo’s bed on this shitty rainy day and figure everything out. I wan’t to be his rock again. I’m sad I let shit hit the fan.

I miss him calling me “Nor” and making everything feel better again.


I probably shouldn’t have gotten dinner because I knew I wanted to snoop. I’m just worried. And I’m sad. And I’m scared. And I’m a stupid girl. I have so many things that I want to say. So much that I want to know. A mildly manipulative move on my part.


Today, I feel completely nugget-less. It sucks.





Like… fuck. We were so cute.


I’m trying to keep busy. Literally this is my free 15 minutes today. And this is immediately where I go. I decided yesterday that I was going to eat, go to class, attempt to drink less, and get back into my work out routine. I gotta have something going for me.



So all my roomies just went to another apartment for dinner. I opted out to stay home and actually accomplish some work. The good news? I did! The mediocre news? Not all of it.

Instead, I decided to assess today’s look…. and also get a new avatar for my twitter. I ran in to he who shall not be named today. My first thought after was hmmmmm… I wonder how I look. My hair was up when I saw him, but I was rocking my super chic shades. I’ll give this look a 5 out of 10. My curly hair is what I thrive best in, but I can only do so much on 30 seconds notice. So maybe this was a victory?

I didn’t realize how long it had been since I had a selfie session until I opened up my web cam gallery. My last pictures are of me 25 pounds ago with mermaid hair. Seems surreal. I look like a preteen child. I think I’ll cherish these new found curves.

Because no one worth talking to is going to be buying me drinks if I look like I’m 12.

So enjoy my, 1-8 daily readers. This is my face. THIS IS THE FACE that isn’t worth fixing it for. Obviously more complicated, but won’t you join me in being spiteful?

Also, while this is indeed therapeutic to me, I open up the floor for any questions. I figure, hey, maybe these 4 people wanna know who’s rants they’re reading. So here’s your opportunity. I’ll reply to comments.

And with that, have a beautiful day. Chances are, you deserve it.