Today I was sitting at my desk at work and was setting an alarm on my phone for later to remind myself to set out my electric bill for my boyfriend because he needs a bunch of paperwork. I was in the middle of writing a story about jessica simpson’s swimsuit.
Then I saw this old alarm on my phone. 9:30pm Dad’s bday. I don’t remember why I had it on there. Maybe I had to wrap a present? Call him? I don’t remember, but what had served as a reminder last year did its job a second time. It reminded me that dad is gone.
So as I cried discreetly at my desk, I pondered all the ways I could get away from everything — the electric bills, the reminders, the meaningless celebrity gossip. I thought I could take my life on the trail, buy a covered hammock and just walk. And then I thought that I could take my dad’s van on the road. Drive it around the country. Live in it. Maybe I would be happier in there.
the only domestic instinct my parents have managed to pass on to me is the tendency to hoard multiple plastic bags in another plastic bags despite the fact that I will probably never need this many plastic bags in my adult life
Watching local news makes me want to punch the tv. Other things that annoy me:
That person too
People who honk horns
The ridiculous unnecessary heat
V on orange is the new black
That cheese is not healthy
Being around people
Being in NYC
A thousand people wanting to come and stay in my apartment
People who ask me for money
Not being able to breathe
My non-ability to find a bathing suit
My bike’s leaky back tire
But mostly those two people
I’ve made it my personal mission to support women in music and really try to expose talented chicks. It just sucks that the work I get rewarded for are stories about Miley Cyrus stripping down for a shower selfie. Fuck that. It’s time for things to change.