- It's like the middle of July. WTF?! Where has the time gone?
- I'm back to bangs. Like Back to Black... get it? Get it?!? Puns...
- I'm not a writer, I'm a blogger.
The first two are like whatever. This year has gone way tooo fast anyway. And I have been doing bangs on and off for, like, my entire life. So all you bitches who thing you can now start sporting this shit... just stop. No.
And for that matter, how dare you?!?!
You don't see me suddenly sporting a tramp stamp and calling myself a tramp. No, sir. I know I have to earn that shit. (Both the money for the stamp and the right to call myself a "tramp". I acknowledge that it is both a right and a privilege, thank you very much.)
And the very last thing, well that one kind of breaks my heart :(
I'm not a writer.
I'm a blogger.
I feel shame in writing this. I still haven't grown the cajones to say it out loud. I feel like the moment I do, I'll start crying out loud.
I'm not a writer, I'm a blogger.
Should this be my new mantra? More importantly, where will I tattoo this on myself???
So, I'm a blogger. Is there a support group I can join?
You know what? No. I'm glad. This is good. I'm glad to have found this out now, rather than 3 years into an English major at UCLA... or some shit like that. It's good that reality slapped me in the face now rather than later. I guess now is the time that I shall look at myself and my writings, cry over once melted Ben & Jerry's and, after sad watching Shaun of the Dead for like the billionth time, get over it all and write a thesis, per say, of myself, my writings, and my future.
Fuck. I need to stop this right now. That last sentence in that last paragraph... SORRY FOR WASTING YOUR TIME. Like really, though.
I don't know why I'm deluding myself. I'm not a writer... I'm a BLOGGER. Ugh. I have to go self-hate myself now.
Here are some more fun facts about what I'm not and what I won't have:
- fabulous hair
- a wine connoisseur
- a random meeting with Martin Solveig one day and have him say, "Bonjour! Would you like to travel to Europe to me to club and travel and club?" along with my awesome, awesome response of, "Oui! J'adore... le discoteque." (I'm really mixing genres here.)
Oh, and I don't know if anyone is reading this, but I feel like a lot of people should know that I don't like Busy Phillips. I don't know why, but I don't. Something about her just bothers me. Like Best Coast. But that's a topic for another time.
I'm so glad I'm still a wreck :)
Aren't you?
Best :D
XXXO