build him up and cut him down to lovable size.
I'm terrible about updating on a regular basis. Or maybe my life is terrible about being interesting.
Ahhhh, it's Christmas time! My favorite time of the year! It's the hap-happiest season of all, guys!
No, but seriously, I love Christmas. The only day of the year I love as much as Christmas is my birthday. But I think I should start hating my birthday since the past few years have been one big ball of suck after another. Yay. But anyway, let's not talk about that! Let's talk about Christmas! I was punishing myself to finally clean my room -- don't be grossed out, I swear I'm not filthy, but I really hadn't cleaned my room in about a year. There were clothes that would get washed but would never make it onto a hanger and back into my closet so they'd just lay there and then I went to Cancun so when we came home I just kind of let the clothes accumulate in the suitcase. Agh, disgusting, I know.
But I cleaned my room and now I can't stop cleaning it. It's so refreshing to have a nice clean space and not feel so cluttered. So as a reward for tidying up, I got to put up my lights and tree and oh, my room just looks so fantastic. And at the same time, I'm now starting to realize how cutesy my room really is. I think Kurt on Glee might describe my room as a place where Strawberry Shortcake and Holly Hobby come to hook up. If they were hipsters who loved Urban Outfitters, that is.
(Am I making sense? Do I care?)
I totally forgot I had stuffed animals in my room -- STFU -- but there's only five of them and they sit in the corner chair. At least I don't prop them up on my bed, I mean like, who does that?! (Pfft, no I didn't do that in high school. Ha, what are you talking about?) I'm just hoping it doesn't scare the next boy I bring up into my room who is like, "Hmm, this room is kinda too cute for my taste. At least she doesn't have stuffed animals -- oh shit, wait there they are." Wait, this dialogue is so not believable because in this scenario THERE'S A FREAKING BOY IN MY ROOM.
I keep telling myself that I like being single and I do, I really do for the most part, but then there'll be these moments I'll look in the mirror and it's Friday night and instead of going out and looking hot and being drunk and making out with a boy, I'm wearing my robe, fuzzy slippers, glasses, and my face is just ugh. I'm twenty years old, not sixty for Christ's sake!
That's why I'm making a pact that 2010 will be my year. For realzies. No more of this being boring and navel-gazing, I am a woman of action as soon as that clock chimes midnight.
Oh and BTW -- did anyone else kind of blank on the fact that it being 2009 means that this is the end of the decade? I remembered this last night and I was like, oh yeahhh. I read this one article about how the 2000 decade was terrible and we have nothing original to offer, etcetera. I really have to agree because the fact that the decade was ending escaped me is just proof enough that no one really cares about 2000.
Ahhhh, it's Christmas time! My favorite time of the year! It's the hap-happiest season of all, guys!
No, but seriously, I love Christmas. The only day of the year I love as much as Christmas is my birthday. But I think I should start hating my birthday since the past few years have been one big ball of suck after another. Yay. But anyway, let's not talk about that! Let's talk about Christmas! I was punishing myself to finally clean my room -- don't be grossed out, I swear I'm not filthy, but I really hadn't cleaned my room in about a year. There were clothes that would get washed but would never make it onto a hanger and back into my closet so they'd just lay there and then I went to Cancun so when we came home I just kind of let the clothes accumulate in the suitcase. Agh, disgusting, I know.
But I cleaned my room and now I can't stop cleaning it. It's so refreshing to have a nice clean space and not feel so cluttered. So as a reward for tidying up, I got to put up my lights and tree and oh, my room just looks so fantastic. And at the same time, I'm now starting to realize how cutesy my room really is. I think Kurt on Glee might describe my room as a place where Strawberry Shortcake and Holly Hobby come to hook up. If they were hipsters who loved Urban Outfitters, that is.
(Am I making sense? Do I care?)
I totally forgot I had stuffed animals in my room -- STFU -- but there's only five of them and they sit in the corner chair. At least I don't prop them up on my bed, I mean like, who does that?! (Pfft, no I didn't do that in high school. Ha, what are you talking about?) I'm just hoping it doesn't scare the next boy I bring up into my room who is like, "Hmm, this room is kinda too cute for my taste. At least she doesn't have stuffed animals -- oh shit, wait there they are." Wait, this dialogue is so not believable because in this scenario THERE'S A FREAKING BOY IN MY ROOM.
I keep telling myself that I like being single and I do, I really do for the most part, but then there'll be these moments I'll look in the mirror and it's Friday night and instead of going out and looking hot and being drunk and making out with a boy, I'm wearing my robe, fuzzy slippers, glasses, and my face is just ugh. I'm twenty years old, not sixty for Christ's sake!
That's why I'm making a pact that 2010 will be my year. For realzies. No more of this being boring and navel-gazing, I am a woman of action as soon as that clock chimes midnight.
Oh and BTW -- did anyone else kind of blank on the fact that it being 2009 means that this is the end of the decade? I remembered this last night and I was like, oh yeahhh. I read this one article about how the 2000 decade was terrible and we have nothing original to offer, etcetera. I really have to agree because the fact that the decade was ending escaped me is just proof enough that no one really cares about 2000.