September 2011
2 posts
During a discussion about sports. It started with...
HM: ...So people in Indiana follow the Colts, right?
Me: Yeah.
HM: Are there any other professional teams in Indiana besides the Colts?
Me: Um...the Pacers.
HM: ...Oh, the Pacers. I haven't thought about them in, like, ten years.
Me: Exactly. No one's thought about them in ten years, because they're not exactly memorable.
HM: They were good once!
Me: Yeah. And that was ten years ago.
August 2011
1 post
I am loved.
I am lucky.
I am lucky.
I am loved.
July 2011
2 posts
Texts with the gentleman
HM: It's kinda cold outside. Am I here in vain?
Me: Just hold on to the night, [HM].
HM: But will there be any shame? That's the question. And the answer is none. None more shame.
Me: Seriously, I fucking love you.
March 2011
1 post
I guess I didn’t realize how hard it’d be to leave him in the mornings. I like snuggling much more than sitting in my office.
I’m definitely infatuated.
And right now, I miss his voice, I miss his smell, I miss holding his hand.
February 2011
1 post
Harvard Man is in for a treat: I look awesome, AND I’m bringing cupcakes.
January 2011
1 post
WE GET IT.
You’re pregnant.
Congratulations.
However, you don’t need to attempt to solicit more oohs and ahhs by posting new pictures of your positive test. We got it the first time.
You also don’t need to spam our Facebook walls with weekly updates of your baby’s progress.
For heaven’s sake. I know someone else that is pregnant for the first time (this is your...
December 2010
2 posts
"An ocean without a Shore...": I was an abused... →
Amen.
caraobrien:
regazzadilupo:
Do you want to know why this Facebook meme makes me so angry?
I was one of those children. One of those thousands of children, at the mercy of an adult. Unable to stop the abuse, too afraid to say a word to anyone about it, because of course, no one would…
November 2010
2 posts
Doesn't mean it stings any less.
If you had doubts, you should have told me immediately. As in, a month and a half ago. As in, before I met your friends. As in, before you led me to believe that I had more time than just Monday afternoon. You don’t hint that things will be extending into the foreseeable future unless you are planning for that foreseeable future.
I’m not asking you to try for my sake. I’m just...
October 2010
10 posts
You know, I’m kind of terrified that if it gets to the point where we eventually make it “Facebook official,” I’m going to have to suffer the embarrassment of the “likes” and comments.
In particular, I’m worried about my stepfather. He’s already asked me, “When’s the wedding?” when he knows full well it’s not a remotely funny...
I know now, after a lifetime of uncertainty, that stability is all I want.
I’m pretty sure I’m never going to feel “ready” to meet his friends…let alone in a big ol’ group.
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit.
Itch scratched.
I can't complain.
I know who I was. I know who I am. I know who I do not want to be in the future. In the short 26 years I’ve been around, I’ve learned a few things:
If I’m having a life crisis, someone somewhere is probably dealing with something worse. There are worse things in life than a lost pair of glasses, and I’m happy that I can afford new ones when I get a bit ditzy. ;)
We too...
It’s my dream to one day find a guy who can look at my RSS feeds and say, “Impressive.”
/we can bond over Gizmodo and Slashdot
September 2010
6 posts
Random thought: There are times I wonder if I’m alone in liking brussels sprouts. I even liked ‘em when I was a kid. <3
Andrew Bird Cultivates a Sonic Arboretum →
I wish, I wish, I wish I lived somewhere close enough to experience this. This is right up my alley in so many ways.
I’ve missed Radiohead, but I can’t quite bring myself to listen to “Fake Plastic Trees” just yet. I tried a couple of months ago, and it made me cry. I want to avoid the whole crying thing.
Seriously, fuck the guy who ruined them for me for so long. Especially “Fake Plastic Trees.” You could have at least ruined a shitty band, but no, you made sure we’d...
August 2010
12 posts
“These mishaps you bubble-wrap when you’ve no idea what you’re like.”
– Frou Frou, “Let Go”
Ache.
I'm venting.
The more I hear, “They’re the ones that are crazy,” the less I believe it. Please stop saying that. It doesn’t make me feel better. It’s a hollow phrase that people say to pat you on the back to make you feel good, and I see right through it.
I’m becoming more and more enmeshed in my job because I don’t have anything better to do. If I sit still, my...
July 2010
4 posts
Don’t flirt with him. Don’t flirt with him. Don’t flirt with him. Don’t flir—
Shit.
clientsfromhell:
Client: “I want a way to track all the people that come to my site. Names, addresses, telephone numbers and cell phone.”
Us: “Well, there are some tools to capture visitor information but not to that level unless the viewer supplies that to you. They would have to register at the site and that kills page views.”
Client: “I don’t know why this is so fucking hard! You are the...
Kickstarter will put me in the poorhouse... →
…but I loves me some Jenny Owen Youngs.
June 2010
4 posts
I'll let you in on a secret.
This is how the software industry works: We all know each other. If you have a problem with your Google account, all you have to do is email one of us, and go, “Hey, fix this.” We totally know who to ask.
Or, you know, you could get off your ass and figure out how computers/the Internet work(s) and find the answer to your own damn question instead of calling me in the middle of my...
Art is not necessarily about being loud and in your face, or “pay attention to me” or “look at me, I’m awesome because I’m a sexual lady.”
What we dare to call art nowadays is the same shit, repackaged in a body that’s 20 years younger. Same bleach-blonde hair. Same ruby red lips. Same “shocking,” grinding-up-on-this-dude behavior. IT’S...
This song gives me a serious case of the happies. →
May 2010
4 posts
Moon Zoo - crowdsourcing science! →
I hate when I get depressed, because the few opportunities I have for socialization, I tend to turn down.
So tired of feeling like this.