burned toast and beyond

reasons why i am nearly universally loathed by my extended paternal family

• I am the first one in like five generations to go outside Pennsylvania for my higher education
• No one gets to have their favorite dessert (peanut butter ripple ice cream) when I am around because of the deadly allergy that is TOTALLY MY FAULT and so I deserve the resentment
• I seem to be the only one who can work a DVD

as i write this, i am perched on the upper mattress of an '87 volkswagon vanagon

to whichever chacha guide i was snotty to this afternoon

I’m sorry. Taking out my frustrations on you was completely unfair. You are, after all, just a slave to the 160-characters-or-less system for which you work. I appreciate your professionalism in letting me know the etmology of the word “tycoon” even after i swore at you and was bitterly sarcastic.

yours truly,
Blair

ps. Stuck working on the fourth of July? Tough break, dude.

yesterday

It sucked, and it shouldn’t have. To be fair: for the most part, things went well. But I still ended the day with a nervous stomache and that adolescent cocktail of feeling betrayed, guilty, and like I was about to fuck things up real good.

I don’t want that sort of thing. I don’t want to sit through an acoustic set of my favorite band and feel like crying the entire time. I don’t want to feel like pasting the lyrics of an Air song into my AIM profile. I want to celebrate stupid things and get back to taking pilgrimages and investing things with magic. I think it’s what I do best.

In the words of Fountains of Wayne: “please don’t rock me tonight.” Don’t shake me up, don’t show me I’ve been ignoring people around me, don’t prove that they think of me differently. I’ve been trying so, so hard to get things right.