Back in da CLT
and I already have new color on mai nailz, new sweater in my closet, and JUICY COUTURE corduroys on my ass. Yes, that’s right, I have Juicy pants. Youda best, Marshalls.
New nail colors?
Don’t mind if I do…
Shitty best friend is shitty.
And she’s back with my psychopath ex again!! Super. I’d been wondering why I haven’t heard from her…well not really, but it was just confirmed today. Whatever. Over it. Ready to get her out of my life for good. Taking this as a lesson on how to not make friends with any more terrible people. Because they are both pretty terrible people. I mean, it’s not like...
Another Sunday Night:
Stressed to the point of tears over another English paper and presentation. Will I ever learn? Hell, no. A killer weekend is totes worth the terrible Sunday of catch-up. Cheers!
Fuck you, grant proposal that I'm not even half...
It’s due at 3 and I might kill myself. Fuck you, kindly. GAHHHHHKLJKSDKDKLSJGVS.
abnormallyyours asked: Shit. You know you're getting old WHEN - I intentionally find your blog to write you a witty comment for your ask and fucking forget was it was I originally intended to say by the time I got this all open and ready to type. FML. PS. I hope you like the changes I made to my description about myself on my blog... "This is my blog. I do what I want."
themattsmith: This is a SOLID mash-up M83 vs...
Asking for Help
Easily the most underestimated thing in the world. I woke up this morning stressed to tears freaking out about some garbage annotated bibliography and podcast I have to record. I came to the library to sort it out and for the first time, asked the front desk lady for help. She gladly took me aside and searched my paper topic, reassuring me that my ideas were good and that it’s only a draft...
Weekends with Boyfriend:
This: With this: And a little bit of this: But never complete without a night of this with his brain-twin housemate: He’s the best.
It's my first UNC test/quiz today...
I feel sick. French is too hard. I’m a journalism/poli sci major no one cares if I speak French. I want to write for English people, not French people. I’m also losing sight of the beauty of the language. When I say French shit I just sound like I have something stuck in my throat and sneezing and blowing my nose at the same time which, if you didn’t know, are probably the least...
What the fuck, Thursday.
One of boyfriend’s psycho ex-girlfriends (there’s only two- but this is the one who said she was pregnant so she wouldn’t leave him, not the one who stalks me at work and sends him anonymous magazines where she has a fashion spread in them) is in my 16 person recitation. I’ve been creeping around campus looking for her for 3 weeks and she’s in a fucking tiny room with...
I think my new bifocals are making me nauseous.
Damn you, Franzia.
To the Clever People:
Halp. I’m making a blog for my english class and I need a clever blog name. How did you guize come up with your adorable names??