i must be what i must be and face tomorrow

This is what I'm wearing today. It might get all the way up to 60 this afternoon
and I might wish I'd worn a dress, but no I will not because one can always remove clothes.
It's much worse to be cold and not have more clothes to put on.

Can we talk about Forever21 for a minute? GREAT.

I'm pretty sure I've said this a million times before but I get 95% of my clothing from Goodwill. Usually I buy shoes new (not because I'm opposed to second-hand shoes, but because there aren't ever any non-disgusting ones in my size) and obviously I have my underwear custom-made for me. Or if my tailor is booked I buy it at Target. (DIGRESSION: Once I had a boyfriend who offered to buy me clothes when he found out I shopped almost exclusively at Goodwill. I laughed for a long time but I did let him buy me a lot of food. Also once right after I moved to Brooklyn and he'd come to visit, he left piles of quarters around my bedroom "accidentally." Basically he didn't understand anything about my whole entire life. He was very nice though, and a very safe driver, and he loves his mom a lot but not too much, and he built his own house, so if any of you ladies are in the market for a twenty-six-year-old malething to make a baby with I will try and set it up.)

I know I said I wanted to talk about Forever21 and then I didn't. But I'm going to. Right now.

I have vague moral questions about shopping at big box chain stores or whatever it is they're called, but as I think I illustrate here pretty regularly, I don't know shit about shit and so, whatever. As far as I'm aware they're not clubbing baby seals in the warehouse, and also I think the economy is made out of make-believe anyway, and also other things. My objection to Forever21 is not that. But first I have a question: How many of you actually go inside an actual Forever21 to purchase clothes? Do you mainly just use the website, or do you like physically going in there and shopping?

Because I get panic attacks even walking by a Forever21. Well no, that's a lie. I see one and go, "Ooh! There are things that are pretty inside of there" but then the minute I step inside I remember that I hate everything about being alive and having senses. Because the music is always louder than my thoughts are and I always feel like the other customers are shopping with a purpose and know where stuff is and I'm always bumping into someone and crying because I just need the cardigan section, please. Where is the cardigan section? And the dressing rooms are always ROASTING and it stresses me out that the dividers are made out of fabric and I'm afraid I'm going to fall over sideways (a reasonable fear if you are me) and rip everything down. This past weekend I was like two hours early to meet my life partner in Union Square, so I went into Forever21 because I sort of wanted something a little scandalous to wear out. I'll give you a minute to disapprove. Okay. So all of the things I just described went on, plus I had my bags with me so I was in extra-strong knocking-stuff-over mode. Plus all of the girls working that day had on crop tops and I am always fascinated by girls who look good in crop tops because that will be me never, as long as Cheetos keep being a thing, and so in my wild-eyed/distracted/overstimulated state I bought this dress (WITH ALL OF THE DOLLARS I DEFINITELY HAVE):

Only in pink. So anyone who's ever bought a dress at this establishment understands that the models are aliens and in real life nowhere near that much leg is covered. This is not news. This is like, Forever21 101. Well I failed. I really do not know what drove me to take it home, except that if you ignored the fact that you could see my uterus it really was a very pretty dress. And my uterus and I looked AMAZING in it, I'm just saying. So whatever, my misgivings started as soon as I walked out clutching the tiny yellow bag and by that night I was 99% sure that that purchase wasn't the best idea I ever had. And I have had some shockingly bad ideas. So I tried it on again and it was unanimously decided that it looked good, but in a weird Barbie kind of way because I was too worried about shortness to do anything except for stand very still. So I thought, maybe if I size up it'll be longer, so I had my mini friend from a previous SFW post try it on so I could see what it was supposed to look like. AND IT LOOKED AMAZING ON HER. So I killed her. And then the next morning I took it back but of course the next size up was not only way too big but somehow still way too short. So I gave up and just got yet another black polka-dot dress (that actually fits like a dress and not like a necklace) to add to my rapidly-growing collection, plus a ring that I think I already lost. And then the gent at the register said I still had a few dollars of credit left, and I must have looked dismayed/nauseated at the thought of going back out onto the floor to find something else for two dollars, because he pulled out the mustache tote and my dismay evaporated.

So all of this rambling was really just a way to tell you that I did not mean for that mustache tote to come into my life, but it did. Which further cements my sort-of belief that everything happens for a reason, sometimes. Just like when you get ladybrain about one person, which turns out to be a good thing, because if that never happened you wouldn't have met this much better person, only now you kind of feel like you're on the verge of throwing up all the time because you haven't felt feelings in a while and it is shocking to the system. IT'S BEEN A LOT OF HOURS WHY HASN'T HE TEXTED. Why am I thirteen. Why. Why. Also thank goddess texting wasn't a thing yet when I really was thirteen because, because.

Remember yesterday when I said I'd participate in the last day of SFW if I had my life together enough? Well, my life is not together but instead of doing something about that I am writing long rambley blogs about I already forgot what. Sometimes I think blogging is just one giant displacement activity for me, which would explain why I am almost never talking about anything.

Linking up with Delirious Rhapsody! Sorry I tricked you guys into thinking this was a post about clothes. Don't be mad! I can change!

they had a broken keyboard, i bought a broken keyboard

I was pretty miserly yesterday. And if how I feel this morning is any indication, today might be the same. I keep trying to decide to be in a good mood, and sometimes it works for a few minutes, but mostly I just want to push stuff over. Also I feel lecherous and gross-looking, which is neither helpful to my "I just want to lie down forever" outlook nor is it in keeping with the spirit of Spring Fashion Week. Sorry for being all Debbie Downer, ladies. And THANK YOU so much for all of your sweet emails! My comments are disabled, so it's not you, it's me, for those of you who asked. And thank you to Deanna for hosting a week where pretty, interesting women compliment the crap out of each other. I like it. And I like creeping on all of your pictures.

What I'm wearing today. Right now. To be at school for forever.

(I'm over learning, you guys. I'm hoping it's spring fever and not "I want to move again" fever.)

Cat dress and carousel earrings. Chucks not pictured.

Can't remember where mystery bruise on arm came from? Probably Forever21.

Another Little House on the Prairie-inspired outfit. 

I like this dress but something about the fabric transforms my underarms into the Orinoco. 

In a sexy way, obviously.

This coat was six dollars.

I won everything forever that day.

Linking up with Delirious Rhapsody! I may or may not participate tomorrow, since it is a packattheverylastpossiblesecond/classes/travel day and how together my life will be is hinging on whether or not I am still an exposed nerve by the end of today. I think I am going to eat a lot of chocolate and hope for the best, although I'm not sure that's a good idea when I already feel like an ogre? WHAT DO I DO. Maybe will just put my head down for a long time. 

xoxo!

the time i was a cat lady. all of the time.

Sometimes I dress like an extra on the set of Little House on the Prairie.

Although now as I'm looking at this picture I'm realizing it's also a lot like what I wore to kindergarten.

If I could get my hands on an adult-sized purple Lion King sweat suit I'd wear that, too.

Also a Little Mermaid nightgown. Also I wish my mom still brushed my hair for me.

When I bought this dress it was down to my ankles so I chopped it and used the excess fabric
to upholster a cat-sized sofa. I was going to take the rest of it in so it'd actually fit me, but

I feel like I'm going to want a huge tent-y dress this summer because of hotness and eating a lot of things.

Also I only know two tricks on my sewing machine and that's not one of them.

Easily the most versatile sweater I own, it goes with everything. Everything. Always.

Leg warmers and slippers happened a lot of times this winter/fake spring.

Evidently so did my face makeup not being the right color. I AM GOOD AT THINGS.

Linking up with Delirious Rhapsody!

and the sun pours down like honey

I don't know, you guys. I feel like I could definitely be a full-time fashion blogger. Kindergarteners are practically teaching themselves these days anyhow. I will call this chapter of my memoir "The Time a Link-Up Altered My Life Trajectory." 

But that won't be out for a while so in the meantime LOOK AT THESE PICTURES OF ME:

 I only look miserable because it's five in the morning and my smile was still in bed.

I like this dress because it's made out of some weird material that feels a lot like wearing a hug.

The problem with this dress is that it creepily bunches up in the middle and if I'm not careful

my ovaries wind up exposed to the elements. Plus, lumpy-looking.

On the regular, I find dresses and get really excited about them only to realize

that they are NOT dresses, they are jumpers. And generally I think jumpers should be 

reserved for people who are four. But this one was practically free and I really liked the neckline,

so I thought MEH and brought it home and cut out the shoulder pads. And it was fine,

until I had to pee. And let me tell you, "Neglecting to Take Bodily Functions into Account
Whilst Making Purchases" is going to have to be another chapter of my memoir because if telling
the story of how you spent too many minutes shivering half-dressed in a cold stall while
praying that there wouldn't be some sort of emergency evacuation isn't literary gold,
then I don't know what is.

And because of honesty: 

What I Wore to go to school and then to the train station

and then to put a lot of dinner into my mouth and then to make

gestures at "staying in and studying" in an attempt to make up for the 

poor life choices that would be made over the next few days.

Go look at pretty girls.

i wear your grandpa's clothes, i look incredible.

I know this is supposed to be 'spring fashion week' but I think
Deanna forgot to tell spring stop by my house so I could participate in her link-up.

It's kind of nicer out lately, yes. But my low iron and I will continue utilizing layers until we get to 70 degrees,

and we will also continue to be tempted to put blankets over the girls who are already laying

on the grass on the quad in their undergarments.

The above is the least amount of clothes I've worn outside since last summer,
and that is actually a lie because at the last minute I put a sweater on.

Also, since it's Fashion Week and all, I feel like I can tell you a secret.
When I am packing my weekend bag (which is actually just a reusable grocery bag and/or my backpack for school,
don't let me fool you into thinking I am put-together enough to own a "weekend bag") I sometimes
take pictures of the clothes I'm considering bringing to try and minimize the amount of extra stuff I pack to
try and minimize the amount of curve in my spine. Also I get up too early in the morning.
Also I should probably be medicated, because also also I make "real-life" poses sometimes

to try and mimic what the clothes will look like "in action." You want to be my friend, and it's fine.

These are some outfits that never saw the light of day, or, as the case may have been, the dark of night:

The middle dress was the most disappointing, because I didn't realize until I got it home
that it accentuated parts of my person that I would rather not be accentuated, ie, HI LOVE HANDLES.

So I gave it to my friend who is miniature and it looked more like a dress on her
and she got a lot of compliments and I was only a little jealous.

Here is an extremely flattering picture of that:

Reason #183710984 why I'm not on Facebook:
This is one of the more flattering pictures of me floating around on there.
I cannot face the faces I make. I haven't the strength.

Now gooo look at all the cute girls linking up.

 

I like you too much

After too little time

I hold back my heart's crazy rambling

The fear that I should overwhelm your smile

Frightens the spiders inside me

SONDRE LERCHE

  

I'm 99% sure I'll be back in the city full-time this summer. YAY. 

I'm 100% sure that means I'm going to gain at least two hundred pounds,

mostly because on Sunday we finally went here for brunch after walking by it lots of times,

and that is only one out of about 900 delicious restaurants within a one-mile radius

of the apartment I'll be living inside of with two pretty girls.

I'll probably be really extremely poor though so maybe not. DON'T CARE STILL YAY.

Oh and I'm questioning the % of sureness I am that this decision has

absolutely nothing to do with any stupid boys, or anything.

Because that's a rule I feel pretty strongly about not breaking.

At some point, someday, I'm going to have to be okay with making choices as a pair. 

But that day is not today and so I'm going to just keep making decisions 

based on jambalaya macaroni and cheese. 

from the souls of men who know the worth of roses on this earth

Yesterday afternoon my mom's boyfriend (my pretend dad) got into kind of a nasty car accident. It wasn't his fault, and the lady ran right into the driver's side door of his car.

Two things: First, when he got out and went to make sure she was okay she started yelling at him. Later her husband showed up and was yelling at both him and at the police officer that came. I think you can probably imagine how helpful that was to her case, because police officers love being told how to do their job.


I can understand being upset, obviously. I can even understand being angry at the other person involved. What I can't understand is if everybody is okay, why yell? What is that going to accomplish besides making an already bad situation worse? Can everybody just be cool please? Cutie cute Danielle at Porcelain Heart, Ivory Tooth wrote this post last year (hope you don't mind me linking you!) and I thought of it while I was sitting in the car just feeling so thankful that no one got hurt. In case you don't click, which you should!, she gave the man who hit her a hug. I wish with my entire heart that all of our default reactions to things could be kindness and love instead of abusing someone who most likely already feels terrible/getting attorneys involved and suing the shit out them when it is not the least bit necessary. (That's not this situation, but I have known people on both sides of that and it's soooo ugly you guys. Like, leggings-as-pants ugly.) Anyway, this whole thing was a reminder to me to be intentional in approaching things with all the love I can. Because of love and everything, but also because by not screaming my head off for next to no reason on the side of a road I will always look like a lady.  

Second, I am so relieved he was okay. If he wasn't such a good driver, or if the woman had been driving any faster, I can't even make myself type what could have happened. I appreciate the person my mom chose to be her partner for so many reasons, but what I'll share here is this reason: 

I could explain, but. There aren't words, really.

I want to pull you so hard against me that my skin has to let you in.
AND THAT IS SO CREEPY.

I am about to break all of my rules for you.

LAME.

I can already feel how sad I might be, if.
Like: Practice sadness. Sadness conditioning.

And just so you know, today I am making my phone extremely uncomfortable
because it isn't used to being looked at

and the amount of attention I am paying to it now
is making it feel weird.

wahwahwah emotions blah.

Currently

Feeling

Emotionally unprepared to get my math test back today.

Watching

My mom and I finished watching Brothers and Sisters on Netflix a few weeks ago. 

That's been it for TV shows. Lots of Jenna Marbles youtube videos, though.

Reading

Textbooks. And then some more textbooks. I've been in kind of a reading slump lately, sadly. 

Maybe it's because I'm reading so much for school, and when I'm not doing that I want to be doing things? 

Whatever it is it's taking me a long time to get through any book I pick up, and then I lose interest anyway.

Right now I'm trying to read Casual Vacancy by JK Rowling. 

She's amazing, obviously, and (I think?) this is her first adult book. 

Er, book written for adults. 

Thinking about 

How many girls' butts I've seen around campus[es] since the weather got a little warmer THREE DAYS

ago. My advice to these girls, with their shirts as dresses, who are the same girls who wear leggings as pants

 in the winter, is to just combine those two pieces of clothing. Wear your leggings under your short 

dresses. It's not THAT warm out yet. Perfect! Look how cute you look! Little cuties!

Eating

I've been eating bowls on bowls on bowls of plain Greek yogurt with raisins & Fiber One cereal mixed in.

I don't know why except that one day I realized I had all of these things, and I decided to mix them together,

 and it was magical and I haven't wanted much else since then. 

(Except for chocolate milk. Gallons. On gallons. On gallons.)

 

Looking forward to 

This weekend. Girlfriends! Dancing! Brunch!

This summer. More of the same! Times a lot!

Making me happy

This semester is almost over, and besides the fact that I definitely just annihilated 

my A average in math with that last test, all of my other grades are muy perfecto. 

A boy, because I am twelve.

This is gross, but I've worn this cardigan a couple of times without washing it

and my perfumes have layered into this really magical smell.

I smell like a unicorn.

come on friends get up now love is to be made

"What can I do with my happiness? How can I keep it, conceal it, bury it where I may never lose it? I want to kneel as it falls over me like rain, gather it up with lace and silk, and press it over myself again." Anaïs Nin

Sometimes friendship means gritting your teeth and bearing it while she orates PROFUSELY on the significance of things that are insignificant. And boring, because you've heard them twenty-nine times already. Even if you've told her TWO HUNDRED and twenty-nine times already that he's the worst only you've said it nicer. And even if while shopping for her birthday present you carry a copy of He's Just Not That Into You around the entire store but you finally put it back because she'll figure it out and when she does, you'll be there.

Sometimes friendship means leaving a party at two in the morning and going all the way back downtown because she just flew in and can't find her key. When you get there, she'll be asleep in the doorjamb, and you'll think, That's so cute and also This neighborhood isn't THAT safe, geez.

Sometimes friendship means having to convince her that she is DEFINITELY NOT PREGNANT. At least a couple of times a year. And when you can't quite convince her of that, even with science and common sense backing you up, it means convincing her that if she is pregnant WHICH SHE DEFINITELY IS NOT then you will move in with her and help her raise the baby Kate & Allie style except that you won't have your own baby you will have a cat.

Sometimes friendship means pausing in your careful layering of eyeshadow (for optimum sexiness and ease of transition from daylight to barlight) to run into the bathroom because you hear loud noises and yelling. It means that you will hold the shower curtain up while she finishes showering, because it has somehow fallen on her and everything is now soaked, even if that means you're going to have to start your makeup over again because of steam. And because you're laughing so hard there are tears.

Sometimes friendship means getting out of bed in the middle of the night and going for five-hour drives around the state of Connecticut whilst wearing your pajamas because she just needs to talk. And you know what? So do you.

Sometimes friendship means deciding to be the first one to stop being mad, because it was a stupid fight anyway and because you can choose between staying mad and making your point OR running over to the car with your camera, because that idiot is stuck in the trunk. And you're totally going to help her out, but first you're going to take a picture. You're also totally going to make your point in a few hours (over steamed cheeseburgers and chocolate milk to soften the blow) because you were totally right. Which brings me to:

Sometimes friendship means knowing when not to say "I told you so."

Sometimes friendship means going into the bathroom at the IHOP in Times Square and comparing anatomy to confirm a lack of weirdness, because it really just cannot wait.

Sometimes friendship means waiting for your friend to come back from Crazytown. Sometimes you have to wait a long time.

IF YOU ARE EXTREMELY LUCKY:

If you do not have a hundred-foot-tall, football playing, MBA-getting male friend, get one immediately. Because when that friend breaks up with his long-term ladywoman, friendship will mean a lot of inappropriate dancing and a tiny bit of hilarious friend kissing. And if you think, oh, no, I can't go out with a man who looks like a supermodel because talk about a c-block, you are wrong. Because when that boy whose kisses are starting to plant butterflies where your food is supposed to go shows up, this friend will say: Get it, girl. Let me know if you need me to beat anybody up though. And he will mean it. And he will always make sure you get home okay. So seriously, get on this.

The other day I had a conversation with someone that wound up with me sharing a little bit of frustration I have about one of my friends. It wasn't anything hostile, I was just talking, but the person I was talking to asked me why I remained friends with this girl. And I had no answer. And I've been thinking about it since then, and I still just really have no idea. She's someone who, if I'd met her today instead of ten years ago, I probably would not go near with a ten-foot pole. For a lot of reasons, but mostly because she's almost exactly the same person she was ten years ago. She's never progressed beyond the adolescent egocentrism that plagues us all for a time, which makes me feel this, like, profound sadness for her. (When I don't want to slap her in the head because her perception of reality is so skewed I feel like it must be that her brain is tilted or something.) We've shared experiences that will live in my heart (AND IN MY NIGHTMARES) forever. But for years (yeaaaars) this friendship has felt like something I have to manage, and lately I've just been wondering why I bother. I say I love her, and I do, but a more honest thing to say would be that I am hugely, enormously ambivalent. I ambivalove you? I late you? I don't know. Basically the awkward hug scene in Step Brothers sums it all up. It also sums up everything else about my whole entire life, if you were wondering, which I know that you definitely were. Anyway, I don't mean this in a mean-spirited way and I don't mean to make myself sound like a martyr, staying friends with this hideous, awful person. It's not like that at all. EXCEPT WHEN IT IS. Just kidding. Sort of.

So the moral of all of this is: I don't really get friendship. But I'm super, super grateful for all of mine.
(Including you, friends who live inside my inbox. Including. You.)

guest post: fourteen-year-old Lindsay

This is obnoxiously long so if you want you can scroll down to the bottom and just read that part. Although that part's just about as meaningful/interesting/relevant as the rest. Actually why are you even here? Just skip it. Go enjoy your coffee/morning gin.

December 10, 2002

I've been sick for a few days (today's Wednesday). On Monday when I stayed home from school I went crazy pretty much and I was lying there in bed thinking about all the bad/embarrassing things that have ever happened to me. Then I told my mother (very calmly) that I was going to kill myself. My mom told me to take an advil. grr.

I think EP might like me, but I'm not sure. I really like N


December 16, 2002

I never finished that entry! hehe. I was on the bus, and Kayla kept talking to me and I couldn't write. Well, now it's Monday night and I'm alone in my room, so there's nobody to bug me. I really do think EP likes me. There's actually two Es in my class. One is EF, who has orange hair and really big muscles and he's really annoying. (The other day he started humping the desk in front of mine so I kicked it right into his crotch. Boys need to keep their hormones in check, and out of my foot's way!) Anyway he's icky. EP is kind of chubby but not really fat and he's really smart (like ♥N♥) but he's cool and dresses like a skater. Even though I adore ♥N♥ it's nice having someone like you. I'll try and be nicer to him.

I CANNOT STAND MOM! She's so UGH. Tonight we had Chinese food for dinner and I loathe Chinese food so I had a sandwich. That was the first thing that made her all pissy. Then I was telling them how I plan on marrying a bazillionare and then slowly killing him with arsenic so it looks like he died of pnemonia. She got super-pissed and told me to go to my room.

Boston Public is on now. Shit, and I'm stuck in my room. Poop. Now I'm pissed off at my ugly stupid mom and I can't watch my favorite show. I hate that she can piss me off so well. I also hate that she feels it's perfectly okay to discuss her sex life with Dad at dinner and I can't talk about rat poison.

Toodles!

PS Today when I was coming up from Spanish N was right in front of me & Jocelin on the stairs. We were really giggly so I told N that his shoelaces were undone and that it was a safety hazard and he laughed! Then he dropped his notebook and I picked it up and gave it to him, laughing, and he was red. Then he dropped the rest of his books and we picked them up and I ran to class. I ♥ N!!!!! ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

♥ Lindsay


December 24, 2002

Christmas Eve! Tracy and Jamie left a while ago. They gave me a kit for making my own jewelry. We also each opened a present, and I got a blow-up chair.

Timmi is in a sleeping bag on my floor. He's harassing my cat.

C wished me Merry Christmas today. I told him I asked Santa for a pony.

I don't think I wrote this yet: On Friday I left my reindeer on the bus and C brought it to my house.

Shit. I think I'm in love again.

♥ Lindsay

PS X-Mas countdown: 2-morrow!


January 31, 2003

I have SUCH problems. On the bus this morning I was thinking about Justin and looking at him and I really liked him. Then in gym I was sitting on the bleachers with Jill and Jenna and all them and we were watching the boys warm up. I was mainly just watching N and then I saw Justin and I was like "Ummm N is SO better than Justin" but I didn't say it I just felt it. [...]

Anyway. But then after school I was coming out the doors to the buses, and I just noticed that Justin was standing by a bus about three away from ours. He was waving to people but not talking. So then I started walking past him and I said "Ya know, our bus is right there," and he started walking next to me (!!!) and talking to me and I liked him all over again. But I'm keeping this crush a secret until I figure it out for myself.

♥Lindsay


April 21, 2003

Buenos noches! (tardes? neh.) I got a mouse for Easter. He really smells though so I put him in the empty kitchen. Barney really likes him. Justin and EP... ahh. Here's my percents: Justin - 70%, EP - 29%, MS - (short funny redhead) 1%. Glad THAT'S all sorted out.

I've decided to try to find my inner peace.

Things to Do for my Well-Being!

1) Really do yoga and stick to it this time.
2) Run every morning.
3) Become a vegetarian.
4) Brush my teeth with baking soda.
5) Meditate every night for a few minutes.
6) Not let assholes piss me the fuck off.
7) Stop swearing.
8) Stop falling so crazy-in-love.
9) Still hope that someone will fall crazy-in-love back.
10) Love myself & others.

Oh my gawd. I have a serious crush on Justin. Yesterday I talked to him the whole bus ride home. Then for the past few days we've been talking a lot in school, too. On the bus he was talking about how he had to make all new friends this year and how the people that weren't his friends he just hated. So I go "Am I your friend?" and he goes "Well, I don't HATE you... so yes, I guess so." And then I said I was honored and he said "Most people are." and laughed. tee hee


♥ Lindsay


April 23, 2003

Madre lost her necklace thing and she thinks I took it. How rude.

Anyway. All day yesterday my percents kept changing and Taryn was like "Lindsay! I'm going to kill you! Make up your mind!" hehe. Anyway now my percents are like this:

MS: 49.5%***
Justin: 49.5%***
EP: 1%***

As you can see, EP has dropped waaaaaaay down. What happened, you ask? hehehehehehehehehe. Well, I'll tell you. Just leave 1 million dollars in small bills under... never mind.

Matt (the creepy one who, for some reason, is in love with me) told me a few weeks ago that no one at that lunch table liked MS and they only pretended to be his friend. He said that they don't like him because he's annoying. (I don't think MS is annoying.) Maybe it's because he always has a joke and a witty remark... aahe cough. hm. Anyway. So yesterday they told MS that they hated him and that they didn't want him to sit with them anymore. In Spanish he seemed fine but at the end of class he told me about what happened and I'm sooooo sad b/c he's sad. I didn't realize EP was such a jerk. But he's still 1% because I can't help it. Alright, I gotta go...

♥Lindsay

Today

I have a math test in three hours. Incidentally, it is basically the same math I was supposed to have been learning in eighth grade.

***But as you can see, in eighth grade I was far too busy managing my elaborately constructed fantasy life to bother with things like math class. Math class was for people who weren't maneuvering a vast and plentiful[ly imaginative] love life.

And just so you all know? Because you are DYING to know? NOT ONE THING HAS CHANGED. (Except for Boston Public being my favorite show. Actually that wasn't even true then. I just needed to emphasize how unjustly I was treated by my ugly stupid mom.) Instead of practicing the square root method, or whatever, I am thinking about nice things a boything has been saying/doing/being and smiling creepily into space and probably making everybody in here nervous.

Isn't it the best when really, reallyreallyreally great weekends leak into the rest of your week? Besides the part about it being Tuesday and your legs still hurt from busting so many sweet moves on dance floors. JUST KIDDING that part is great too. Obviously.

and although i felt crazy i stayed pretty calm

Let someone love you just the way you are – as flawed as you might be, as unattractive as you sometimes feel, and as unaccomplished as you think you are. To believe that you must hide all the parts of you that are broken, out of fear that someone else is incapable of loving what is less than perfect, is to believe that sunlight is incapable of entering a broken window and illuminating a dark room. MARC HACK

(quote jacked from this blog)



I needed to read that this morning. And maybe you did too? If so, you are welcome.

What I really need to be doing this morning is studying for this test that is four hours away (even though I might as well not even study because of how brains work). But first I might go get something to eat (because of how stomachs work). Also buy a sweatshirt because it's cold and I did not pack a sweatshirt and I really would like a sweatshirt (because of how heat on trains does not work). But I am not doing any of those things right this second, because right this second I am asking myself why I painted my nails right before going to sleep last night because when is that ever a good idea? And why didn't I write more neatly when I made these flashcards? Is it because I hate me?

~

Everything you think you can't offer shows up on your face sometimes, this look that's part acknowledgement and part apology.
Sometimes in my head you are hunched over your glass at a table with your friends, like you were that one time, and everybody around is talking and having fun but you seem separate from it and maybe a little sad, (and that one time I definitely wasn't having fun because that was the time I (allegedly) (abruptly) announced that I was bored and left) and I wonder what all the bravado all the time is about.
Other times you are golden and your center is solid and I want to use the words "love" and "pure" here but I don't really know how to explain.
And just now I got this picture in my head: It's late, and we decide we want to be in the same place, and then it happens because we just stop with all the bullshit.

(That isn't even really bullshit because it isn't even really anything.)

In the meantime I'm going to keep, you know, seeing.
Because it's fun, you know, to "see" and also it is an excuse to buy new dresses.

when there's nothing else to burn you have to set yourself on fire

This morning in my sociology class the good doctor asked the class to say "Penis!" together, because a room full of 18-19 year old students at this school suddenly gets very quiet when sex comes up and GET READY FOR THIS HILARIOUS PUN READY?OKAYHEREWEGO they need a little lubrication before they can really get going. (Which honestly, I think is SO WEIRD. Why would you not want to spend fifty minutes talking about weird sex things? I would like to take entire courses on weird sex things, frankly, but I don't believe in paying tuition for things I can learn in real life unless I have to.) I feel like I want to point out that I really like this professor and I really enjoy this class. But today I got a little sad, because you know what happens after a whole class says "Penis!" together: The whole class says "Vagina!" together. (Who else remembers doing that in seventh grade sex ed? Otherwise known as the best class ever? I haven't got the faintest idea what I learned in seventh grade math but I will always, always remember my sex ed teacher telling us girls that we "shouldn't bother having sex any time soon because it won't even be any good for you until you're practically thirty." PURE GOLD.) Only no, it did not. The whole class did not say "Vagina!" together. Some of the class said "Va-jay-ay" together. (I did not. I said "vagina" but you couldn't hear me over all the awkward/horrified quasi-adult mumbling.) As my future ex-husband - known in some spheres as my math professor - once said: "Why would you take something beautiful and make it stupid?" He was talking about numbers or something, who even knows, but... I forgot what I was saying. I love him so much, you guys. Anyway:

Then I spent the rest of the class being a little sad, even though I am sure that the professor loves vaginas very much and probably didn't mean to hurt them. The whole discussion kind of shocked me, actually, because 98% of the class said their parents had either never talked to them about sex or they'd gotten, like, "a talk." And obviously I am aware that not every household is as open as mine was growing up, but I'm pretty sure I've never been in a situation with so many people so uncomfortable with/maybe just not used to talking about sex. So I learned something today, you guys. I am learning at college. I AM AS SHOCKED AS YOU ARE.

But anyway, the main point of this is, why the reluctance to say "vagina"? Penis is fine, but not vagina? I mean, I don't have the energy to get all Vagina Monologues on you right now because it's almost snack-o'-clock and I just spent five hours going cross-eyed in the face of my TI-84. If I didn't like the professor so much and if I thought the class was stupid I'd probably have been pissed off, but I do and I don't and so I just got sad in general for the word "vagina" because so many people don't like it. AND THEY SHOULD. The End.

(I have stressed some things in bold, in the event that this comes up in a search while any certain people are demonstrating the disappearance of certain others' backstages.)

tell me when you hear me falling, there's a possibility it wouldn't show

"Women are encouraged to cultivate a pleasing appearance since birth, but never to show satisfaction with their efforts. We're to be always quietly striving without seeming to be, never feeling like we measure up. What makes us beautiful? When we don't know we're beautiful. 

Well, in a world where women spend decades just learning to fucking like ourselves, I consider succeeding an accomplishment, not an embarrassment. So I plan to continue posting pictures of myself looking fly to my various social media accounts. And anybody who doesn't like it can kiss my photogenic ass."  

From this sorta oldish article on xojane

Things that become 'issues' always amaze the balls off of me. Anyway! This article about man selfies was also pretty interesting. I get so grossed out when dudes post pictures of themselves - I have a visceral reaction to iPhone-in-the-mirror shots of manpersons. For whatever reason this doesn't bother me if they're gay, so I was wondering if I'm just a gender-obsessed asshole who likes to judge people and be a stupid jerk and think things like "WHY ARE YOU TAKING PICTURES OF YOURSELF, YOU SHOULD OBVIOUSLY BE OUT DOING MAN THINGS WITH TOOLS." That is not really what I think but still, ewwwwwwW! at boys taking mirror pictures. SORRY. One time, this was like, over a year ago, I gave my number to someone I probably should have known better than to give my number to. But he was basically an Adonis. Also, he basically spoke zero English. Because he'd been here for all of six seconds before I met him. What is the Jordanian version of an Adonis? Anyway the point of this is that one morning I'm sitting in a training and my phone starts vibrating so obviously I look at it because the training was boring and stupid and also boring. And it's not one, but TWO selfies of the imported gentleman. Pointing at himself with his thumb, like, THIS GUY. Taken in a bodega. There were cans of beans behind him. One of them looked like it'd had its colors inverted using Paint, or something. So I covert-op-like pass the phone to my friend and she rudely passes it around to everybody and the moral is that don't take pictures of yourself and send them to girls because then everybody will laugh at you and the training they are in will be rendered ineffective.The other moral is that I guess I am a hypocrite.

So this is what I'm thinking about when I do things like take pictures of myself in preparation for a link-up, or, if I'm being honest, take pictures of myself because I like to.

I feel like I haven't really been able to focus on writing or anything writing-related outside of school lately. There are lots of goings-on going on, especially in my heart area, but also in my ohyayigotintotheprogramiwantedtogetinto! area and in my whyismoneysuchagoddamnpainintheasstofigureout area and in other areas also.

(I wish I could just flip a coin and know what I'm supposed to do. How are you supposed to choose between humans? Do I have to choose, necessarily?)