Advice for my 18-year-old self

1. Just because sex is fun doesn't mean you should have it with just anyone. And use fucking protection, numbnuts.

2. People are a lot more likely to accept you if you give them the chance first.

3. Fixation and love are not the same thing, and not being able to have the person you want is a piss-poor reason to get together with someone else.

4. You know red flags when you see them, now pay attention to them!

5. Your parents may not hate her because you're gay, they may hate her because she sucks.

6. Anyone who makes you choose between them and someone else important in your life isn't worth keeping around.

7. Ask for help when you need it. And if it doesn't work the first time, try with someone else.

8. Choose your friends wisely. The people you hang out with your first month at school are not likely to be the people you hang out with the rest of your time there. (Possibly ditto your first year)

9. Liking yourself is a lot more important than others liking you. Being happy will attract the people you want to be around anyway.

10. Just because someone cares about you, doesn't mean they know what's best. Don't let yourself get dissuaded if you know better.

She fell in love with the drummer

Yesterday I went to the Jewel, bought some crazins (too sweet for me, but I had them on recommendation), nectarines, peaches, apricots and bananas. I also went to the "alternative food aisle" for my silk and granola. But lo! They were out of my granola! They very nice stockboy (could it have been my tanktop?) checked, and supposedly they'd have it in the next morning (as in right now).

Last night I dreamt about excessive numbers of peaches and my granola still not being on the shelf. And about that sock that I put back in the dryer. And my semi-too long hair in the back turning into a full late heavy-metal-style mullet. I was a few power chords and a studded leather jacket away from Behind the Music fame.

No more nachos before bed, seriously.

Silly Meme

( this is very silly )

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So J and I are quitting smoking together.

This is day two. I'm trying really hard, but I'm telling you part of the reason I haven't left the house yet is because I want a smoke so badly, I'm afraid I'll track one down.

But I really need to go to Target. I must be strong.

Also, the Blockbuster in Chesterton has the first and third seasons of West Wing, but not the second, and the second season of Monk, but not the first.

I suspect that they're trying to drive me insane.

It may yet work.

All I need is pouty and twitchy, and I'm set.

I hate bra shopping. I couldn't find what I wanted/needed despite hours of painful and frustrating tryings on. So I got consolitory underwear. My favorite is a pair of hipsters with oscar the grouch that say "Cranky." So yes friends, I do indeed have cranky pants.

My own damn fault

I forgot about a load of whites and my stepdad tossed it in the dryer. In so doing, he put in a dryer sheet, which I never do. Now *all* of my A-shirts are itchy, and I'm guessing my underwear too.

Awesome.

Also, I just hit my elbow so hard I was nearly moved to violence.

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I have a new Facebook penpal! We got on the subject of religion, and he google-stalked me and found this old letter to the editor that I wrote two summers ago. It's not very long or interesting, but I had totally forgotten about it!

He also found this editorial that I wrote for the Smith paper a few months later.

The latest page in our correspondance has me feeling engaged again, and I'm hoping our conversations continue. That, plus my run & shower, have me feeling considerably less grumpy than before. Now if I could get through at a certain camp, my evening would be set.

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I'm the tooliest tool ever to tool.

Seriously, why are you people even friends with me?