April 13, 2011


The part of the whole “distancing/ignoring” thing about the end of my last relationship that still gets to me and pisses me off every time I think about it?

It’s not the fact that after seeing each other for 5 months, it’s apparently this easy for him to just drop it. It’s not the fact he stayed with me for four days right before the fact. It’s not that we slept together for three nights in a row, and I DISTINCTLY remember him pulling me over toward him after I fell asleep to lay my head on his lap and cuddle into him as he stayed up to watch more TV. It’s not the fact that he made me so. damn. happy. It’s the fact I cooked for him for three nights and he told me he’d use his newly-learned cooking skills to repay the favor right before he dropped off the face of my world.

I COOKED RISOTTO AND BACON, ONION, AND CHEDDAR STUFFED CHICKEN BREASTS FOR YOU, ASSHOLE. YOU JUST DON’T PEACE OUT ON A WOMAN AFTER THAT.

I mean, REALLY.

XOXO

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April 18, 2011


…I had another one (one being dream,) the other night that I was Sarah Michelle Geller and I was about to stand my fiancee named Ted up at our wedding because I didn’t want to say “I do” in front of so many people in such a lavish ceremony. I went and hid in the woods about it, and then was coaxed out of hiding by Ted and some salted caramels (good GOD, I love salted caramels; you TOTALLY could convince me out of my pre-wedding jitters and up to the altar with a Hansel and Gretel line of salted caramels,) and ended up having a much more low-key, musical wedding.

Who am I?!

XOXO

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May 22, 2011


Girl Talk: Why I Should Not Be Given Sensitive Information.

  • And tests were neg? And, after you answer that, tell me what you had at the Green Room.
  • Madison: Yes, neggo.
  • Oh, good. Neggo preggo? Not in your eggo?
  • Madison: Exactament.
  • XOXO

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June 19, 2011


Most Unromantic Text Ever Written:

"Meet me in _______ so we can go straight to Hyde so I can get tamps for tonight?"

Tamps = tampons.

This is the end of romance.

XOXO

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June 23, 2011


Girlfriend vs. Deathbed

The S.O has come down ill. And we all know how well I am equipped to deal with another lifeform’s decreased ability to function (read: not equipped at all). I can shove tea and cough drops at someone until they shove them back, but as for the rest of this whole “caregiving” thing, unless it needs a diaper changed or help tying its shoes, I’m pretty new to this.

Making matters better (worse, actually), I’m leaving town in the AM.

Am distraught at the thought of leaving the S.O on his own while sick. Because as we all know, had cavemen been left on their own devices in said caves, homo sapiens would never have made it out of the Stone Age.

So, I did what every 21st century girl does when she is faced with a question of what to do and has no idea what the right answer is: I pulled a WWCD? What Would Carrie Do? Well, if I remember correctly from “The Domino Effect,” (Season 5?) Carrie played nursemaid to Big when he had his post-op fever. Cha-ching!

As I sat on the edge of the bed, mopping his brow with a cold compress, he looked up at me and suddenly, irrevocably, I felt the need to divulge the exact thought that had been crossing my mind— always an odd place to catch a peek inside of; this case not being any different— at the moment:

"I feel like we’re back in the 1940s and I’m a young nurse in England tending to you after you were shot down by the enemy and came down with dysentery or cholera or something."

DYSENTERY. How sexy.

NAWWWWWWT. I think he’ll be just fine without me here, sharing my “I Watched Too Many Period Dramas In My Early Developmental Years” fantasies.

XOXO

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August 7, 2012


I WAS going to upload my ass-load of photos from, oh, all the back to July. 

I WAS going to upload all these nice photos of tiny treehouses and wood furniture and cool architecture that I spent my afternoon combing other Tumblr blogs for. (You know if that’s you; I probably raped your archive.)

I WAS going to watch the quirky Asian subtitled movie that Twig recommended to me.

…And then I found porn.

Goddamn you, Vicodin. I am rapidly coming to realize that all narcotics, alcohols, and general substances that you can abuse make me no better than a 15-year-old boy who just. has. to. keep. going at it.

I lost track. I have literally lost track of how many hours I have spent on porn today. And because I’m on Vic, none of it was my normally scheduled reel of favorites. I am actually a bit scared at what direction my tastes ran in today.

In other news, it’s nice to be able to easily orgasm again.

XOXO

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