SELFIE time!!!
E’ sabato sera e io non ho una vita sociale perché domani devo studiare! Così evito l’alcool ed evito di rendermi ridicola davanti alle persone reali! ma facendo selfie mi rendo ridicola davanti all’Internet! L’evviva!!!

E’ da così tanto tempo che non ne facevo che non mi ricordavo più come si fanno. Il mio nuovo maglione è tenerone. E ho legato i capelli per vedere come starei con un taglio corto.



Ultimamente mi fotografo allo specchio. Sono molto fissata, cerco di capire continuamente quanto spazio occupo nel mondo e come. È assurdo pensare che non ci si vede mai da fuori.

Ps: si quello sotto allo specchio é Harry potter 7


So I was sitting eating skittles.

(All the best stories start like that)

You know how they’ve recently changed them so that green is now green apple not lime?

I hate them. Lime was my favorite flavor.

So I was eating skittles, and I realized something.

I was picking out all the green, apple ones. And eating them first.

I wasn’t eating just the ones I liked and leaving the rest.

But it occurs to me that that’s life a little, too. You can choose to just enjoy the good stuff in life, or you can take it all.

And there isn’t a right or wrong answer. 

Sometimes, you accidentally eat a green one. And its gross but you deal.

And there are some people that feel they need to force themselves to eat all the green ones first, and get all the bad stuff out of the way.

Which is fine, as long as you don’t let the bad stuff in life make you sick.

So make sure to eat one of your favorites every once in a while. 

Andrew Hussie

Seeing as Holocaust Remembrance Day started the evening of April 7 and ended the evening of April 8 (today), either Hussie figured it was late enough for “everyone lets all jump into the oven” to be funny…. or no one actually remembers the holocaust. I’m not sure if I’m the bad person for noting this and laughing or not.  

Edit: I forgot to mention that it was SS that shoved them in the oven. Or should I say, Waffen SS, the Nazi police force. 


It’s just one of those days were I’m super stressed out about my student loans. I’m barely into the semester. :(

Like, the “estimated family contribution” isn’t that high because my parents don’t make very much and are divorced, but my mom told me that she doesnt think she can pitch in for next semester. Amd somehow my dad found out about it, and he told me that even though he know that i “expect help,” if he doesnt see my mom contribute he doesnt think its fair that I would ask him to.

Like, why does his petty rivalry with my mother have to come before my ability to get an education? I seriously want to start crying every time i think about it.


I’m just so tired of my mother. She’s not the real problem, but supposedly parents are supposed to support their children and they dont.  Mom … Mom … MOM!  I dont want to be a dentist. Yes, I know they make more money than you do off the bat with only a few years of college. No, that doesnt make me suddenly love teeth and other people’s mouths.  I’m sorry.  I know that you want me to be secure. And money is part of that.  But telling me to always keep a secret account if i get married in case i need to get away when I was 8 wasnt the best start to raising a trusting adult.  Yes I know dad hurt you, but hes still my dad and I want to spend time with him.  I dont mind if my sister doesnt want to, she doesnt have to go over there.  Money isnt everything and all guys arent evil, I promise. 

Thoughts on connection and understanding

Okay so I’m still pretty disjointed and this wont be as articulate as I like, but I’m going to start by telling a story.

I went to Walmart today, with my mom. And I’m about to go off to college and she hasn’t had very much money recently (things are… unfortunately tight), but still we went around and she picked out some new pants for herself and tried on sundresses and bought avocados at a ridiculous price. She kept saying how we were buying clothes instead of food in this joking voice and not to tell my sister. 

And then it was time to ring up, and it was over $100, and her cards kept getting declined. Me, reaching into my wallet to see if I could cover it with my graduation money, and feeling embarassed. 

Now, I’ve been in this situation before, and have always unfortunately felt almost a little resentful that I had to stand there embarassed. But today, I was also mad at myself for being embarassed. And after shopping, we got outside and my mother was so excited that we hadn’t missed the sunset. We drove down to the lake, and I was being quiet and withdrawn and frankly a little sullen, and I just walked and stood out on the big rocks that keep the shore from eroding away. And my mom stood there next to me, and even after moments later I turned to go back to the car she just stood there.

Seeing her silhouetted in the fading light and with the lake in front of her she looked so small. And I know why she needs to buy non-essentials and look at sunsets, becausee right there, she looked like the world would swallow her up if she lost that little bit of joy.

I’m honestly tearing up a little as I try to write this out, and I feel like wondering at myself. Because, shouldn’t realizations about your parents come much later in life? Even as she makes yet another statement making it obvious she isn’t quite getting somehing about the way I think, I haven’t really been trying to explain myself to her. Shes right now trying to watch Orange is the New Black even though she’s said she doesn’t like it, and I’m the only one who has watched all of them. I don’t think sharing my realization is a good idea, either, though. She can keep her invincibility.

Our Culture.

Okay so I was at a gas station not too long ago, and I saw a biker. 

Now, in the weird place that is my head, I started wondering what these spiked leather-wearing bikers did for a living. 

Then I thought about asking him, because chances are he’s a nice guy.

Which is great.

But then I think about the fact that I’m wearing a red and white flowered dress with a lot of cleavage showing.

And I think about the hypothetical “me talking to a biker” scenario in my head, and how far from my car I’d be and how fast I could lock the doors.

This is not great. I should not feel fear.

I shouldn’t have to be afraid, shouldn’t worry about stepping out and talking to someone because of what I’m wearing.

But I was. 


When you complain because your brother is in your room playing your music box.

Which he stole.

And your mother says: “What can I say, he wants to be you.”

Those are the best times.


I swear.