i am wearing jeans that i haven’t been able to wear in over a year.
the rest of the day can go fuck itself because i’m in my skinny jeans.
I believe in the Dr. Cox theory on exercise - the key to my exercise program is this one simple truth: I hate my body.
The second you look in the mirror and you’re happy with what you see, baby, you just lost the battle.
My zodiac signs seem to define me more and more. Like they were made for me, or I for them.
Compassionate and intuitive and idealist (which leads into being escapist). Circling around and around, constantly seeing both sides, rights and wrongs and feeling everything that everyone else feels.
I always resented that I was born in the year of the rat. But more and more, I see that I can be intense and focused, self-destructive, and more.
These water signs own me, or perhaps I own them. Fluid and moving, and some days I feel like I only embody the negative aspects.
Reading Door Wide Open is still utterly heartwrenching. Even little snippets.
I thought I might grow out of my love for this book, but I think it’ll be in my heart, forever and ever.
just saw a commercial for a new show on ABC called My Generation. they showed clips of some kids in 2000 talking about what they were going to do with their lives. the show catches up with them 10 years later to see what they’re doing (not a reality show, it’s actual actors).
it looks super depressing. i have a decent job that i love (most of the time), and i still wonder if i’m doing enough. i still feel disappointed in myself sometimes. WHY WOULD I WANT TO WATCH THIS SHOW.
I hate this “never forget” bullshit. It insults me.
Do you really think that I’m going to forget? I mean really. Am I going to forget that fucking planes crashed into buildings? No. I’m not. I don’t need you to constantly whine at me about not forgetting (I won’t). I don’t need you to tell me that I’m unAmerican because I don’t believe in invading countries unnecessarily (It’s stupid). I don’t need you to tell me that it’s insulting to build a mosque two blocks from Ground Zero (it’s not).
How about you remember that time when people came over from England and fucking slaughtered some Native Americans. THOSE IMMIGRANT MOTHERFUCKING ENGLISH invaded. Oh, and there was that time we fucking STOLE PEOPLE from another country, enslaved them, and decided they were a subspecies. Then there was that super fun time when we imprisoned a bunch of fucking citizens in internment camps and left them with nothing after the war was over. Oh wait, I’m remembering another thing, when we decided those slaves really were PEOPLE, but OH WAIT, THERE NOT QUITE A WHOLE PERSON.
AND HEY, REMEMBER WHEN WOMEN COULDN’T VOTE.
I’d rather remember these things so that maybe, JUST MAYBE WE CAN QUIT REPEATING OUR MOTHERFUCKING MISTAKES.
yesterday was 72 degrees. today was 90. hello summer. please go away again, this girl is ready for fall.
sweaters and scarves and boots. my faves.
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i work in animal rescue. and i love it. i love the animals at work, i love my animals at home. i find them just utterly delightful creatures.
but i believe in using animals for research purposes (using certain parameters). i am a raging carnivore.
and i constantly feel guilty about this, because i don’t think i’m allowed to be an animal lover, a meat eater, and a believer of researching using animals.
but why? i like logic and reason, despite my irrational tendencies and occasional psychosis. i like that animals help us cure diseases and answer questions about the world. i hate labs that abuse their animals, but i think the good scientists should get a break.
i think we have teeth meant to tear and chew at meat. and i think meat is delicious. perfect poached eggs and nice, crispy bacon. what’s more delightful? house made salumi. braised beef cheek.
so why can’t i be both. an animal lover and a meat eater.
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