4:20 AM, and I'm only writing this to myself, I swear.

Hooray! I found my blog, and it let me back in. Blah blah I'm so awful at blogging blah me me me. I'm not sorry. I'm a terrible writer, in most senses of the word. But- I have things to say that are worth the exercise of writing them down, and I swear none of them are very important. 

I'm going to re-do this blog thing. I used to be terrified to post anything online that wasn't significant and meaningful and hilariously witty. Let's pretend I ran out of all that shit to say, and now I'm going to talk about boring things in a boring way and maybe bitch about things in my life that suck, and probably give myself verbal high-fives when something I do goes mostly like I meant it to. I'm not going to try and write a certain number of posts per week, because I already hold myself to pretty high standards and I don't need any more personal disappointment. I might post pictures, if they're of me and if they look like someone hot from the internet. 

I'm a vain motherfucker. 

I'm also sort of a different person than the one who blogged here before. You'll see.

You, blog. Because even though I'd like to think the entire internet will read this and see how very deep I've become and will want to be my very best friend, it's probably better they don't. For one thing, I'm terrible at keeping friends. My ex-friends know this. There are an awful lot of them. Because I'm a good person. 

Hair? But... hair. Yes.

Wigs are fucking awesome. 

That moment when...

I've added two resolutions for this year. I can't remember what brought them on- various substances bring various mind states, and various degrees of self-realization- but just after I realized how much clarity a well-timed cigarette can bring, I had some pretty clear thoughts. 

1. Find someone whom I can relate to, at my worst. I need to know who my people are, no matter how embarrassing, shameful, or downright terrifying they might be. 

2. Buy a goddamned fucking watch. And never take it off. 

Not that I'm begging or anything...

I'm writing this on my boyfriend's laptop while he's sleeping. Originally I was going to look up a music video to show him, but since I have no idea who the artist is or what the video is called, or anything else that would help me find it, I ended up googling things like "singer in forest with a drum and she ends up in a mirror tent-raft in the middle of al lake somewhere+sounds like Feist," until I bored him unconscious.

Also, if anyone knows what that song is called, I will write a 1000 word essay on why you win at life, and I will send it to the editorial section of whichever newspaper is your favorite. Or I'll put it up on the internet somewhere, and that shit's eternal. In 500 years, people will still know how awesome you are. I am totally serious, because I fucking LOVE that music video.

AND sleep.

Huzzah for self-confidence!

*I wrote this when I was in Nottingham, and incredibly homesick. I was in a very antisocial and destructive period in my life, and I was so afraid of my friends finding out how very badly I was handling everything that I stopped talking to them completely. 

Anyway, after some intense self-pity, and the realization that no one really knew anything about me at all, I decided to write down a few things I knew were true about myself. 

I think I might have submitted this to a student zine, and I think it might have gotten published- I can't remember, but I miss the girl who put out that zine. The zine was called Artemis, and I think her name was Cathleen. I do remember she had blue hair, and was an amazing musician/singer. I definitely had a bit of a girl-crush, but she intimidated the hell out of me because she was so damn cool. An English singer/songwriter who dyed her hair blue and published her own student magazine? Who the hell was I?

I'm not gay, bisexual, or even bi-curious (I am, however, open to suggestions after the proper amount of alcohol), but I'd like to think I've gained enough self-confidence that if I met her again, I'd buy her a drink or two just for being fucking awesome.

And if she happens to read this, Cathleen, you probably have no idea who I am, but you're still one of my role models, and I wish I'd asked you more about Artemis and your music. I hope you've had a fucking awesome life so far, and that it just keeps getting better ;)*

***

The Things We Lie About

***

I’m not antisocial. People frighten me.

No, I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.

I’m   terrified of money. I haven’t checked my bank statements for 5 months.

I wish I could start over again with my mum.

****

I finally learned how to stand up for myself two weeks ago.

If I had more confidence, I think I could make a really good Goth.

I think skinny jeans are the worst thing to happen to women since Hugh Hefner.

I feel incredibly shallow sometimes, and I can’t help it.

Yes, I am afraid of dying alone.

***

I envy people in relationships.

I’m afraid of commitment.

I think the only way changing room mirrors could be more depressing is if someone had written a list of your personal failures, your weight, and your student debt down the side before you stepped in front of it.

I’m afraid of being the least successful person at my high school reunion.

I hate it when people ask me if I’m okay, because I know they don’t want to hear I've just finished crying over something stupid, or that I really miss my parents.

I miss my parents.

I'd rather cut it off entirely, to be honest.

AND I'M BACK.

(insert clever comment here)

In other news, I mangled up my arm pretty good. And then again a few more times. And now I think my bones are infected. The orthopedic people at the hospital agree with me. 

God, narcotic drugs are fantastic. 

Oh yeah, fuck you, Karma. You goddamned axe-wound. 

I sometimes wonder how many orphans I'd have to save to not come back as a fucking Banana slug in my next life.

I wish I could show this to the entire world