well hello you. i bid you good morning and i truly hope this blog entry finds you having the most glorious of tuesdays. that being said, i am not quite sure where this entry will take us but every now and again, one needs to break free from the shackles of 'planned writing' and 'proofreading' and just put pen to paper, metaphorically speaking (this is also how i justified/still justify my college gpa). so i feel like judging from comments i've received in regards to yesterday's post i need to certainly tie up a few loose ends. they are as follows:
1. yes, i know it was bad. i don't need anyone else asking me for clarification (i.e. did i really mean to type abercrombie and hollister?) the short answer is yes. i should have taken the fact that he lamented not being able to fit in their clothes anymore as a red flag, but alas, l-u-v is blind, right? i tried to get him to shop at nordstrom's or even aeropostale [kidding?] but even i can not work miracles all day/every day. i take comfort in hoping that one day homeboy will realize that the reason those clothes are not made in his size is because everyone who shops there is (a) a 'tween; (b) manorexic; or (c) doing blow in the dressing room to maintain their svelte figure.) alas, i digress. i never used to do anything nice, let alone outright charity work, because people either wouldn't see it or wouldn't acknowledge how amazing it is for someone with hair like mine to mingle amongst the commoners, converse with the very peasants that make our great american society work (and not just hispanic migrant laborers, either). because . . . after all, that is why people volunteer? right? self-serving reasons; and i am totally okay with that.
2. i apologize (so far as me typing that) if yesterday's entry was not what some expected from me. apparently some were surprised that i have feelings and that my tear ducts really do function. alas, i am human like all of you, so gmafb if i show a moment of weakness. in the grand scheme of life, i will not be remembered for that bullshit, but for this blog, ousting chelsea handler from her 'top spot' on E! . . . and writing hilarious non-fiction about my badass existence . . . oh, and maybe curing aids/cancer/the common cold, whichever is easiest. i will say that there may be more posts with emotion in the future. its very weird, little ones. now that i no longer smoke, drink to excess on a nightly basis and/or find love in all the wrong places, i am actually having to experience these . . . feelings. its a hard pill to swallow, and i know hard for you all to see. do not worry, today's entry promises to be a true delight.
3. raven had a post just like that on her blog. except for the fact that hers was written in all caps and littered with countless grammar/spelling/general english syntax mishaps (kind of like most of my exes). i can't blame her though, she'd just been cheated on. i shudder to think the level of 'crazy fucking bitch' i would reach if anyone truly tried to cross me. (that sounded like i should be grabbing my sword from the leather sheath slung round my hips, didn't it . . . ?) any time i question whether or not i should do something, i pretty much think of raven and ask myself one simple question: WWRSD? coined by a very close friend of mine, 'what would raven symone do?" has not led me astray, ever and i doubt it ever will.
that is the end of me addressing yesterday's post, and the comments it garnered. but as they say, the present is a gift, and as potter says (or jk rowling or jesus or whoever you want to credit) . . . it doesn't do well to dwell on the past and forget to live each day (maybe it was lincoln or eleanor roosevelt, idk, nor do i care). while we're on eleanor (and, from what i've read lately in the non-fiction section at my local public library, everyone was) didn't she also say "do one thing everyday that scares you" . . . ? using those wise words of wisdom (after all, wasn't she the first lady that . . . oh THAT'S RIGHT, she did little, except entertain ladies, if you know what i mean, and i think you do), i have further confirmed (in my nightly devotional time) that i will try to blog daily, and before you even say it, you're welcome and i prefer gifts that match my cerulean blue eyes. occasionally, this blog and blogging in general, scares me. initially i go through the whole 'what if its not funny enough?' period; after that 30 seconds passes, i get scared because i am essentially too funny and likable and lovable and precious.
literally, i think things like "what if i am destined to be like john nash, the main character in 'a beautiful mind' who is so smart and weird (as smart and weird as i am witty and adorable) that eventually the sheer power of the gifts he has been given lead to him going fucking crazy?" i mean, tell me if i'm wrong (i know i'm not, however) but i meet millions of people a day, i have yet to find one person who is me. i'm not saying all of my thousands of friends aren't comparable in one aspect or another, but, lets be honest, i lead the pack; and that's fine. its a gift/curse i have finally accepted, you can relax.
as always, you're welcome.