Life happens when you’re busy blogging
John Lennon (and one in five white girls’ high school yearbook) once said, “Life happens when you’re busy making other plans.” #TBH, life’s been really needy lately (like, ex girlfriend at the end of “The Fault in Our Stars” needy) but, before Kanye drops in to tell me Beyoncé had the best blog of all time, let me finish.
Between the delivery of a brand new bed that I can, now, never get out of and breaking news at my day-job — special shout out to those cops who saved that woman from choking on a meat kabob, and a not-so-special shout out to that rapist on the loose two towns over — I haven’t had time to do my laundry, nevermind write much for myself. Seriously. I’ve been hand-washing my underwear and buying new shit (#LABORDAYSALE).
This is getting out of hand.
But I’m still breathing, overspending on Starbucks and doing shit worth writing about. See:
- Riding Nitro and crying hysterically.
- Drooling as Katy Perry rides around the Barclays Center on a high-wire and lap-dances a lucky audience member.
- Watching my roommate eat a six inch Subway sandwich at the bar.
- Being asked my age at an 18+ event, only to answer “23 and too old for this.”
- Taking mass transit to the Hamptons at 7 a.m. for an afternoon of two-dollar beers and poor decisions.
- Losing a bet over mini-golf and getting a Henna tattoo tramp stamp of an acquaintance’s name in script.
- Waiting 45 minutes for said Henna tattoo tramp stamp to dry.
- Sleeping a lot more than I should.
- Dancing on what used to be a stripper runway with the lead singer of Hellogoodbye because, I’m still sixteen at heart and still pay actual money to see Hellogoodbye in concert (on background: he also took a selfie of mostly just his mustache on my friend’s phone and then asked all the men in the audience to take off their shirts).
- Making this still of Leslie Knope my cover photo on Facebook:
- Planning a benefit concert (and designing lots of buttons online).
- Diagnosing myself with a thyroid condition via WebMD because I’m too stubborn to admit that it’s my fault (and that of the Starbucks lemon loaf cake I eat each morning) that I’m getting a little pudgy (#MYANACONDADONT).
- Losing six pairs of sunglasses.
- Sitting shotgun all the way to Scranton to see Fall Out Boy butcher “Dance, Dance” live (but hey, $15 lawn seats).
- Dropping my venti iced chai tea latte from Starbucks in the middle of the street only to be looked up at with pity by a woman with a walker, to whom I responded, “At least it’s not a Monday.”
Here’s to hoping I will one day find the time to write something other than a listicle. Until then, THANKS INTERNET for sticking around (and somehow still following this occasionally dormant blog).