— Anonymous assessing my life using bullet points
I’ve never been to a wedding.
“OMGZ, LIKE… MY LYFE IS $O HARD, U GUYZ.”
But no, it’s true. No fancy schmancy gold foil invitations on acid-free paper for this broad. I’ve never even been invited to a city hall “signing of the papers,” let alone asked to be a bridesmaid. If this doesn’t count as a sob story, then someone needs to tell Steven Tyler to quit his bitching. When is this guy going to croak?
Fact: Steven Tyler’s lips will outlive him.
It makes sense, given my age demographic and how we are no longer living in the 1940s. And I guess it’s a good thing that the neo-feminists of the 21st century have been raised not to say “I do” to the first guy that tries to get funky with their nips and tucks at the drive-in theater. Listen up, guys—your convertible does not impress me. Leather seats make me gassy.
But sorry for digressing. Because this is not a matter of believing in marriage and/or relationships. And after seeing multiple Facebook albums of awkward conga lines with second cousins twice removed and middle-aged women getting into wrestling matches over some facking flowers, I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out on something important (or at least embarrassingly cliché). The only problem is me not having any friends who are planning to get hitched in the near future.
Basically, what needs to happen is this.
Someone needs to get knocked up, preferably within the next year or so. Here’s looking at you, [name redacted].
Is it too much to ask?
All I want from life is to know what it feels like to wear taffeta and dance drunk to the Armageddon theme song.
— Alexis playin’ da hatah
I went to the library and saw the huge-ass line for the xerox machine, because I had a good five minutes before I had to run to the most boring lecture ever, and my burning desire to make a photocopy of my face definitely could’ve been indulged.
Hate this fast-paced modern life sometimes.
— Max Weber
via sigynxvx
— Isabela re: being morally accountable for her actions
between making a Facebook for deceased military dictators and cats.
Because one of my friends definitely just listed the activities of the one feline in her life, including “chasing things, lasers, being sassy,” not to mention that the “About Me” part says “Mao.”
Nothing. Is. Sacred.
— Isa
People who tell me about their new year’s resolutions usually don’t know me that well. Most people who are familiar with yours truly know that the glazed look in my eyes isn’t a symptom of sympathy and understanding but rather one of complete disinterest bordering on condescending pity. I won’t be the one to break it to you because regardless of whether I tell you or not, you’re really not going to be 10 pounds thinner this time next year. Girl, they don’t make Nicorette for CHEESEBURGERS.
I think the motivation to change in people is driven by guilt instead. Until their dignity meter looks like it’s going to drop on empty, people won’t recognize the benefits of changing for the better. Unlike revenge, remorse is a dish served with leftovers mixed together until it’s a disgusting casserole that tastes like Lance Armstrong’s jock strap after the Tour de France. You just want to throw the fuck up. You know?
I also definitely forgot where I was going with this.
Anyway. In the past year (and maybe in the past decade), I think I’ve managed to function as a somewhat passable human being, partly out of conscious mini-epiphanies like, “Oh, maybe it is a bad idea to put this spoon in the microwave,” but mostly out of sheer luck. But in retrospect, some semblance of normalcy could be reintroduced in my sometimes shambles of a life. The following are some self-promises I’ve broken this past year, things that would definitely improve my quality of life but that I’ve simultaneously failed to adapt into my lifestyle. But even though I’m giving myself 350-some days to rectify them, don’t call them resolutions. I don’t want to be tacky.
Not going to lie—a little bit jealous of her happy new year right here.
This didn’t make it onto the list. Because, like. Exercise is hard.
And by rectify, I mean somewhat toy with the idea of contemplation, get bored, and go watch a “Parks and Recreation” marathon because it’s more fun than being self-help-y. Amy Poehler, heeey.
use a sophisticated but rarely-used word in a conversation and surprisingly don’t end up sounding like a pompous d-bag and you feel like you have an extra spring in your step for the rest of the day because you basically might as well have gotten away with murder?
Yeah, I just did that.
But with “laissez-faire.”
Done. For. The. DAY.
“不要说别人
脑子有病
脑子有病的前提是
必须有个脑子…” —Matchbox
“20 is a perfect age. If you smile more, you will have less wrinkles.” —A wise woman once said.
[EDIT: Contrary to popular belief, this is not just a sappy, trite proverb that’s supposed to knock you off your feet with its profundity. But the wise woman wants anonymity, and I feel like pissing off the giver may or may not prevent me from becoming legal in this lifetime.]
