Category: Sacajawea

Neck Pains & Blackouts

8/17/2016

It was an eventful span of three days for me.

I hurt my neck. I woke up and I was in so much pain. I'm guessing it was a result of all my headbanging to Avril Lavigne, but no one knows for sure. Still, my mother's car was broken, so she wanted to hang out and who better to drive her around then her favorite live in child?

We went to this coffee shop downtown. It was very good and I even parallel parked on a busy street. I'm amazing. My neck was not feeling my usual exorcist mentality, but still I persevered and took that parking spot like the blonde bitch I am.

Three (four? six?) days later I ran my car battery down at work. Now I know how to jump a car, I have run my battery down many times before. I even had the assistance of Sacajawea. You know your best friends when someone willingly get's their extensions wet to help you jumpstart your car. It was thundering and dark outside, so we may have required the assistance of everyone's favorite country boy, but besides that we are strong independent individuals. Basically.

The Celebrity Meeter

8/3/2016

I keep having celebrity run ins. Not on purpose, but just because God has bless me in the year where David Bowie has died and people really thinking Donald Trump could be a good president. I feel as if I'm in a recurring role in As The World Turns.

My summer has been very instagram worthy. I met Bonnie McKee. Stayed in a hotel I can't afford with Sacajawea and Rosencrantz. See my Throwback Thursday on that here.

You may have noticed a few months ago that I started blogging about country music. What can I say? I get very emotional during the school year and sentimental country music comforts me as a reminder of my childhood when my parents loved me. Although, I refuse to fully embrace country music until they change the spelling to cuntry.

That's how I discovered Brandy Clark. Everyone's favorite lesbian country singer. You can read the article I wrote on her here. She's fantastic and is one of the women leading the way towards fixing the gender imbalance at country radio.

I went to see her with Miss Sara Bellum. I convinced her to go with me. I bought her tickets. We were eight rows back from the stage. She payed for that trip we took to Pride. You can read about that here.

We got all dressed up. I had on my green booties. I'd planned on going full cuntry with my father's boots. But, he took them with him on a company trip, because he was going to a wedding. How rude???????? Didn't he know I need them????????? Aren't I more important??????? Still I looked cute.

You know I was dipping and doing it, although no one hit on me. I had on my gold watch and I would have had a hat on, but I didn't want to block anyone's view.

Miss Sara Bellum and I got there early. We had our tickets in our hands. We waited an hour for the curtains to go up. I remember sitting there and hearing the opening arrangement to Brandy Clark's “Soap Opera” start and I wanted to cry. Big Day In A Small Town is one of the most phenomanal albums of 2016.

She stood there in real life. Her voice was strong and good. She looked great. Her weight was accurate. I expected it to be up honestly. I always assume there's photoshop. She asked at one point if there were any crazy women in the audience and I have never screamed louder in my life.

After the show was over and she'd run through her catalogue, including covering the Miranda Lambert hit “Mama's Broken Heart” she wrote, I got a chance to meet her. I bought her debut album 12 Stories. She signed it, “love Brandy”. Simple and tasteful. I told her I blogged about her and loved her music.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. I was not memorable. I did not get a picture with her and she's not going to talk about me when she's on Jimmy Kimmel Live. The art of meeting a celebrity is new to me. You have to straddle the line between innocuous and obsessed fan and meet it somewhere in the middle to be remembered.

Also I'm not bringing back my YouTube channel. It's emotionally draining. My camera's not that good and I don't want you all to see that I'm not blonde anymore.

I'm Poor

6/22/2016

I think this summer I'm going to start a series of post discussing how poor I am. Last week I started the discourse of surviving “summer on a dime”. This week I bring you the chaos that is older technology.

My poor, sad laptop has finally died, but not quite. The keyboard is what's not working. Not sure why, but honestly it was time. It's held together by duct tape. And, it's not as if I run an unsuccessful blog. I recently bought a new one with my last paycheck. It's stopped the “treat yourself” mentality I was trying to institute, but I think that's a good thing. Saving money is always a good thing.

I have however frankensteined it into working. I connected a desktop keyboard into one of the ports and now here I am typing to you. It might not be pretty, but I'm not destitute yet.

My eagerly anticipated weekly youtube videos will return once all these technical difficulties get worked out lol.

The most heartbreaking thing happened to me recently. Te Amo (the love of my life) informed me that she's working as resident counselor at her school. She's leaving this Friday. I'm crying. My baby is leaving me just like she does two semesters every year.

I'm also playing matchmaker. All it costs me is a little gas and some free time. Sacajawea's boyfriend has moved to Atlanta. He's on academic probation. Skipped one of his finals to smoke pot and I said to myself, “now is the perfect time to break up a three year relationship.”

I've been shoving her and my bestie Boomer together. Sacajawea already loves him and he loves her and he wants love. I told him. In the words of Donna Summer “love will always find you”. Also, relationships are shit. He said to me, “that's easy for you to say. You hate everyone.”

He knows me too well.

Miss Sara Bellum and I have been spending our summer as we always have. Together. We watched the RuPaul's Drag Race finale together. I told her Bob was going to win. She still believed in Naomi Smalls and her legs. She was surprised.

I've been trying to set Miss Sara Bellum's and my mother up together. Not in a romantic, relationship way. Although, I would personally love some good lesbian moms.

I'm afraid my match making is not going as planned. They've hung out. And, they like each other, but I don't know if they want to be friends. I want them to go to the farmer's market on Saturday and buy pantyhose together. All the things old ladies do with each other.

I was thinking they might even join the red hat society. That would be fun, put on a purple dress, and a red hat and drink tea, and talk shit about men. That's what I do with my time off after all and I have a blast.

The summer has been hot and sticky. I don't have a summer fling yet, but I also don't have the money for that. So, instead I've been at home watching The Price Is Right and eating yogurt, doing yoga, getting ready for that beach body I'll never get to show, because the closest body of water I have is a lake. Summer is the best.

Summer on a Dime

6/8/2016

As a poor college student, summer is the time to put on sun block, get out of the house, and try to spend the least amount of money as possible. Of course the problem with having friends is that “free” is not in their vocabulary. And, you can only Netflix and chill so many times before someone has a baby.

I've been reconnecting with old flames, trying to rekindle all those bonds I dropped during the school year in search for that elusive “A”.

Honestly, I've been spending a lot of time with my mother. The madre. The woman who pushed me out of her vagina. We had a great Mother's Day. I took her to a nice hole in the wall for breakfast. I got sausage gravy and biscuits like a good country boy.

We had a great time on her birthday. We went out, bought a few hats. Went to a coffee shop, and played a game of chess. I lost and not on purpose. We split a bagel, laughed, my mother got something called a “funky monkey”, a banana inspired coffee, you know the usual.

We both had our wide brimmed hats on and we went out to our local botanical gardens. I'm obsessed with gardens. It was a balmy seventy degrees out and we just spent a few hours walking among the flora, talking, living life. I strongly encourage everyone to go to their gardens. It's worth it and their the hallmark of any good city.

The night of debauchery ended with us seeing a screening of Mothers and Daughters. It was dull and contrite, but ended warm and predictable. We meant to see Susan Sarandon's film The Meddler, but that's another story. Spending time with your mother is the best, especially if you don't hate each other. We're going to see Carrie Underwood together. My country white girl heart is bleeding.

Miss Sara Bellum and I had a beautiful day out. We almost won Harry Potter trivia together. We saw the Drag Race finale. Although, I'm not sure why. We all knew Bob was going to win. We've become particularly self reliant on one another ever since the Mayor went away for the summer for an internship in Pennsylvania.

I said to the Mayor before she leaves that if she doesn't have a summer fling I will be entirely disappointed in her. Whenever you leave for the summer you find love. That's how it works in all the Mary Kate and Ashley movies.

Rosencrantz and I have been reconnecting as well. We spent the better part of last year not talking, mostly my fault. I need to make more time for people. We've been three muskeetering it with Sacajawea, the true love of our lives.

We've gone on cupcake runs as one does. Not that I have $2.50 to spare. We've just had a great time. I told Rosencrantz that her baby niece was ugly.

You know all the usual things. We went to a hole in the wall Mexican restaurant together, Sacajawea swears by the waiter's ass. We also went to a local coffee shop together where the barista was amused to hear that one of our boyfriend's had a penis as thick as a steering wheel.

On one of our cupcake runs I hit my head on a glass counter in order to hide from a slut I know. It was very inconspicuous of me, but I got a free cookie out of it. And, that's the true way to save money on a dime. Do something stupid and people will feel sorry for you.

Crowd With Me

10/14/2015

I discovered something about myself recently. I hate crowds. I hate people.

Picture it. It's a nice balmy Saturday. I am getting ready to go to this festival with Joyce. For all intensive purposes it's essentially a place to go shopping. My kind of day out. The day just did not go as planned. It was not a memorable experience for either of us.

First off. My heel breaks on the way over. Parking is horrendous and we have to walk about a mile to get there. We have to walk back to my car to get another pair of shoes. The only ones I have is my ratty work shoes. Joyce says I looked grunge. That's a nice way of putting it.

Problem number one is that there wasn't anything cute to buy. Not that I needed to buy anything, I certainly didn't. But, there was nothing that even made me say, “Let's drop fifty dollars and buy this cute tank.” There was nothing.

If I'm going boutique shopping, I expect to find cute, over priced items to purchase.

It was also a pleasant ninety six degrees. A bitch almost died. I swear the sun broke through my sunscreen. I was crowded, I was sweaty it was not good.

You know Joyce and I went to a music festival together and that went okay. This however was intense with no real benefit. Although, I did get a lot of pamphlets from the Planned Parenthood booth. I know how to have safe oral sex, anal sex, vaginal sex. I got you covered.

By the end of this event I'm sure I convinced Joyce to never take me out in public again. I was a bitch. You could go as far as to say I was a cunt. Most of the day with me was just a variation on “it's so fucking hot” and “why is the sun out”. I was a horrible friend.

It was in these moments dear to my heart that I came to understand that I never wanted to be touched ever again. I'm already weird about it. I don't like being touched, but this cemented that. I want to retire to a quiet French country village and never talk to anyone again.

Alternatively, I might move into a nice apartment in some major city and make quick excursions out into the public sphere once in a while instead. School's been a struggle. The most painful part is talking to people. Human contact has just not been going great.

Church was the worst. It was the day after the festival. I was with Sacajawea and Rosencrantz and this girl I know from school hugs me. I can hug people. I don't like doing it, but I can do it. I don't even know this girl well. I was just like we're going to have to talk.

Of course Sacajawea knows I don't like being hugged and that hasn't stopped her. She told me I would get used to it. My mother conversely has told me I would get over it. .

We shall see on that front. At the current moment I've just realized that crowds aren't for me. Which, reminds me. I'm doing Pride on Saturday. Go me.

The Ten Week Break

9/30/2015

Way back when in June, Sacajawea and I were supposed to run a 5k and by run a 5k, I do mean walk. She made the decision to not participate a week before the race. Some friends were stopping in from out of town. This would have been the first time we had spent time together, since school let out.

I spent a nice day out on the town (see the only instagram pictures I have with the twins) and Sacajawea said to me that we should hang out. As a way of apology.

Ten weeks later it finally happened.

For ten weeks, she said we should do something. We work for the same place of sophistication. She knew my schedule. She can say we didn't have schedules that worked for each other. She was taking summer classes. Still after ten weeks there is a lack of prioritization. Obviously, being near her boyfriend's dick was more important then me.

There's also a boy in my Business Law class that looks exactly like her boyfriend. Just stockier and more filled out.

It was almost 11 weeks that our friendship had gone unsustained over the summer when she finally said that we should go to church. That is our aesthetic. We go to church. I hadn't been to church in so long that I was practically an atheist.

I thought our friendship was dead and if we didn't work together it would be for all intensive purposes. After ten weeks, I thought there was no return. But, in a true sign of love and support, she has asked off Sunday's so we can work together.

Lord let it be put on the record that she was the heathen keeping me from church. Also five minutes after we left the service I called an old friend a “skank bitch.”

Her sister went with us. It was a great moment. I love Sacajawea's sister. She's so great. I feel like her and me together would make a Miss J Alexander. I haven't seen her in a good bit of time. Enough time that I'd grown a few wrinkles and had to start lathering on the sunscreen before I turned into a Louis Vuitton bag.

We caught up on everything. How me and this nice Christian girl bonded over glass dildos. As Sacajawea said “why does she have to be Christian?”

Sacajawea was also glad that I dressed “normally”. I had considered throwing on my jersey with the number 69 emblazoned on it, but I decided in my final moments not to. Recently, someone said to me that they dress in a way “that respects their school.” It was very clear that the implication was that I'm the whore of Babylon who doesn't respect anything.

A shirt with my age and favorite position on it pic.twitter.com/lWs4KQjar9
— Bubble Righted (@BubbleRighted) August 6, 2015

I suppose she wasn't wrong.

In other news Sacajawea and I have rekindled our friendship. We'll finally be the good Christian's we were meant to be.

Wax On, Hair Off

7/8/2015

I am here to educate you on the wonders of waxing your hair off. I had very hairy legs (had being the key word in this sentence). This kept me from wearing shorts in a hundred degree weather and I said to myself, “I'm fucking done with this”. I didn't feel sexy and I was like it is time to do this for me.

I bought some shorts from Forever 21. The only clothing store that makes clothes for people without curves. And, of course they were short as fuck. You go hard or you go home. It doesn't matter how skimpy they are when the only difference between outside and hell is the fact that you have a Popsicle, I will slut it up.

Now I took some advice from Cosmopolitan's article on hair removal. I wish I had the money to pay someone to rip the hair off my body, but tragically my slightly above minimum wage job doesn't support such luxuries when your trying to save money. Cosmo suggested the Sally Hansen Waxing Kit. It was only ten dollars and I said yes.

It was a good price and I would recommend using it. Joyce said she didn't like it, but I'm satisfied with the results. It was spa day for me. I turned on the new Florence and the Machine album How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful and sat down in the kitchen on some ratty towels and waxed away.

Now the box says a full body kit. One kit waxed one leg. Now mind you this was my first time doing it. I probably used too much wax. Wasted some solid strip space. Regardless I had to go out and buy another kit.

My hair wasn't done, but the outfit was on point. I dropped my check off at the bank. Then, I went out and picked up another one. I run into someone from high school at the checkout line. He tells me he likes my new hair color and I'm like fuck. My hair isn't did. He looked good. I suppose it was nice to catch up with him, but it was a slap in the face to not look on fleek when you go out. Not that I looked terrible.

Then, I said I'll get some gas. Ran into the Miss Sara Bellum's ex boyfriend. I didn't even wave. I got out. Pumped my gas. Opened my Vogue and waited for the pump to click. He's an obnoxious heterosexual male. I'm sure he didn't have time to notice my unkempt hair with me giving the side eye.

Finally got home. This time turned on Flo Rida's album Wild Ones and finished waxing. It's like shaving. You have to be a contortionist to get some of this areas. Behind my knee cap was a struggle. It was completely worth it. I can't lie to you and say it wasn't painful. It wasn't as bad as I expected. You hear horror stories and it wasn't a B-Rated horror flick at worst.

If you can't deal with the pain. Do small areas. Ripping off an entire strip of hair can be a struggle. Cut the strips down in size, so your not taking so much off at once. When I was doing smaller areas. I couldn't even feel it.

Now if you go with the Sally Hansen kit be forewarned that it's messy to get off. However, if your a poor college student like me, the time it takes to wash it off is most certainly worth it.

The twins loved it. I went out with them to a Trivia Night (Team name: Bed, Bath, & Beyonce) and I had on these Taylor Swiftesque blue spandex. Their mother said they were not allowed to go out dressed like that. To be fair if I had an ass it would have been hanging out. I looked flawless. My six inch wedges elongated my legs. A man whistled on me. I don't think he knew I wasn't female. So, that's awkward for him. I'm honestly just so glad I got slut shamed. Life goals accomplished.

The next time I wore shorts I was out with Sacajawea at my coworker's birthday celebration. Sacajawea loved my look. She said my shorts were shorter then hers (I swear they were the same length). Her mother wondered what I was wearing and she said with shorts like that she thought it was promiscuous to wear heels.

I didn't think it was the time to tell her about my wardrobe choices. The problem with Sacajawea and I going out in public together is that we both act like were under the influence of something without drinking. No one believed that we were sober the entire time.

My Place of Business

6/10/2015

My job is boring if we're being really honest. I enjoy my minimum wage job. It's not the most glamorous thing on this earth, but it pays for my not so luxurious lifestyle. For the most part I enjoy the people I work with. They are a mess. The collective group of people I work with could only be assembled at a no skills required place of employment.

I go to school with one of my coworkers. And, what's so funny is I never told him we went to the same school. I was at school doing my thing one day when he ran into me and he seriously asked me what I was doing there. And, I was just like I go here? He's honestly my favorite. Everyone loves him. Now, his brother not so much.

His brother is just a lot of something. I don't mind working with him, but he's got too much going on. Rumor has it that he dated one of my male coworkers who looks like a cross between neo-nazi and a naked mole rat. Now, I might have started that. At this point I'm really not sure. But, his girlfriend does not like the neo-nazi and his brother told me that some personal things happened between them that he doesn't like him. Now, I'm not saying that means anything. BUT.

Both of this boys respective ex boyfriend and current girlfriend are weird as fuck. I don't like either of them. They make my skin crawl. The funny thing about his girlfriend is how unbridled my aggression is towards her. It's not even shade anymore. It's you literally suck at your job and you are pathetic. She comes into work late and she can't even pay her rent. Her hours got cut recently and I laughed. On the floor, fucking died. Am I terrible person, yes. Do I care? No, because I don't like her.

A few months ago my least favorite coworker quit. She was such a liar. All she did was lie. She has told me that she is attracted to personality, that she could never have sex with a girl, is bisexual, wants to give one of my coworkers a blow job all over the course of 3 weeks. She was also so loud and apparently her mother is dying. She works at McDonald's now. Let me tell you, it's not a step up for her. This girl even told one of my managers that I violently pushed into something. No one believed her. I will throw shade, I will give you side eyed, but I am weak ass bitch. I am not getting into a physical fight with someone. It would have been more believable if she said that I called her “a fucking bitch”. If my manager had come to me with that. I would have been like tru.

I talked about this a few months ago during the 12 Days of Bubbles, but one of my now delinquent coworkers had a sex tape. She was fingering herself and everyone at work saw it. Everyone at her school saw it. It was a mess.

There are multiple people I work with that have wanted to pursue music careers. One dropped a mixtape. He's in jail now. Tried robbing someone with a water gun apparently. The other one just got out of high school and he's not cute enough to be the next Shawn Mendes. And, he sings all the fucking time at work. In this high pitched falsetto that you can tell he's trying, but that it's not good. I'm like stop.

There's this one girl who's very heroin addict chic. Her baby daddy is in prison. She keeps telling us he's a good man, and I'm like but he's in prison. Her parents watch her son for her. And, I'm just like your life is fucking mess. She said that all girls are whores and the feminist in me looked at her side eyed. I was like okay huntie. Apparently one of her men cheated on her. This story was more of a mess then I'm telling it. But, let me tell you. It was Lifetime Original Movie tragic.

My favorite coworker has literally had sex in the back. I'm like oh my god. She's dating this dorky cute guy now and she leaves me early to go spend time with him. I don't know why she doesn't want to be at work. I am more fun then any flaccid dick she is getting with this man. But, I'm not salty about it.

I'm a little salty about it.

Two girls I work with are having intense boy problems. They're both dealing with multiple boys liking them and being jealous and calling them bitches. And, I'm just like this is why you don't date guys with big trucks. I hate their friends and if I'd met them at school I would not have been a fan. But, I love them to death and I want to know why there only ever seems to be one shitty boy in my life. I would enjoy being in a triangle or a trapezoid as some of you are.

Now this is probably the best. One of my coworkers has had sex with a dog. I want to tell you more and describe said person, but people I work with could read this and they'd be like. And, I'd be like. And, I really like this person even if I'm like how did this happen. I've kept this secret for months now and I'm really not sure how accurate it is. One of the southern belles I worked with told me. I love her to death, but that girl is not one you can just trust with information.

At the end of the day my coworkers and I are family. I fucking hate them sometimes, but we still spend time together. And, a little part of me would miss them if they got fired.

The Charity Friend

1/7/2015

There was something I wanted to write about or more accurately tell you about. Because, there's a point where no matter how much your friends like you they want you to shut the fuck up about something. This thing hasn't happened, yet. And, I don't even know if it's going to happen. I'm trying to be calm, cool, collected. None of which I am, and if it doesn't happen I'll tell you anyway. I will be heartbroken.

I am on Christmas break at the moment. Needless to say nothing is happening to me. I'm exceedingly dull. I don't do anything. Everyone else is out chilling with friends, making out with their boyfriends, and I'm sitting at home crying about how happy this book makes me.

The only thing I can think of is the Christmas gathering I had. You can call it a party if you want, but the only shots people took were of water. I would love to say it was a resounding success, but it wasn't. It was actually a hot ass mess. That's what it was.

My mother was in a vengeful mood and she ate an entire tray cookies I made and casually mentioned how I had to remake those. You know I made all the food with my questionable cooking talents. I don't know what I did to upset her, but I did something. That was not kosher. I was like this bitch. Needless to say I did remake them and no one ate them. It was really tragic.

Two people were also obnoxiously early and they are always late. Not as if I mind. But, that was the day Madonna dropped her pre-release with the six new songs. I was just through breaking down to “Living For Love” when the doorbell rang. It was fine. We talked and I love them.

Buy "Living For Love"

Other people trickled in and I had a good fifteen people there. Two people were not there, even though they said they were coming. I was confused. I don't know why one of them didn't come, but the second one said her uncle died. This is Jenny by the way and I was like that was fine. Then, she sends me an e-mail that tells me she dropped off my present and the man didn't seem to appreciate it. I don't know if she was kidding. I was too afraid to ask.

A real problem was that people weren't mixing. I know not everyone knows each other. That's why you play party games. What I do every time. Five people refused to play a game. I was like what the fuck. These are group games. Get the fuck over it and pick a side and calm yourself. Whatever. We didn't play a game.

Thunder informed me that she would have played Pictionary, but that she didn't like party games. I consider Pictionary a party game and I was like whatever. The moment has passed. I mean Sacajawea and her boy toy sat on the couch grasping at each other all night anyway. The only person who really wanted to play a game was me. I just feel like I was a horrible host not mingling with the masses.

The party if you want to call it that really ended about 8:30. People came at 5:00 or later and left at 8:30 or earlier. Do you ever just feel like the charity friend. Like people only humor your presence, because they feel bad for you. That is my relationship with these people, I have to make the plans or there are no plans. I was an emotional train wreck at the beginning of this semester and the only people I saw were the twins. They forced me to go out. No one else took there time out to see me. I realize some of these people don't even live in the same city anymore, but fall break comes around. Not acknowledged.

I might be over thinking it, but I have a really rocky relationship when it comes to friends. I really shouldn't be so offended. I don't consider most of these people friends. There just people I enjoy spending time with. That's not the same thing as a friend.

One weird thing that happened is that Thunder called me a liar. Not really a big deal. None of these people were really under the impression I was a saint. I am the person who had borderline pneumonia, but tells everyone I had pneumonia. She was leaving with her sister J. Lo and we were talking about these girls who were dating. Specifically, I said they were dating.

Thunder informs me that I am lying and not to make things up. To say they were dating may have been an over exaggeration, but these girls were not just friends. They sat on the couch I was sitting on and fondled each other in front of me. They sat at lunch together and when they broke up they no longer sat next to each other. They were something if they weren't dating.

It didn't phase me. It's when the party ends and I check my e-mail that I see that I got something from her saying she was sorry for calling me a liar. Then, proceeds to explain that she was under a lot of stress.

I replied back and told her it was fine. Whenever you justify why you did something it's not an apology. It means you still think you were right and that you had good reason. As I said it didn't bother me. People have said a lot worse things about me then calling me a liar.

Being the basic ass bitch I am, I put this on twitter. Thunder doesn't even have twitter on her phone, but some how she saw it and I got another e-mail apologizing for justifying her actions. It was passive aggressive of me. I shouldn't have made her feel like shit over something I literally didn't give a fuck about. At the same time I didn't feel the need to coddle her.

I say all of this and I wonder why I don't have friends.

Speaking of that it was very interesting to see Rosencrantz and J. Lo shacked up together on the couch talking away. I knew they were friends again, but it was strange. Last year J. Lo ignored every single one of her friends for this one girl. Both Rosencrantz and I told her how that made us feel and how we wanted her to spend more time with us.

J. Lo changed nothing. Not a single thing. We told her how we felt and she didn't give it a second thought. Apparently Rosencrantz has forgiven her.

It's not even that I haven't forgiven her it's just that I don't think of her as a friend anymore. You don't ignore a friend or push them to the side because someone better comes along. She can't fix it. I still like spending time with her, but she's a shitty friend. I wish I was like Rosencrantz, just so able to forget and move on.

It just made feel so replaceable. That's why people kill themselves. It's not that they don't think someone loves them or that there aren't people who care about them. It's that these same people will move on and find someone better then you. It's horrifying to realize how much someone doesn't need you.

That said after the real party inhabitants left I was left with the three introverts. A great group to hold a conversation with and these three people stayed and chatted with me until 11:30. It was really great. I loved getting to talk to them like that. It wasn't the success I imagined, but I think it worked out in the best way possible. I loved it.

All My Couture Comes From Goodwill

10/18/2014

I popped some tags in true Macklemore fashion two weeks ago.

Both Miss Sara Bellum and The Mayor came back for the weekend. I hadn't seen them, since a few days before college started back in August. It had been a while. They were back in town, so they could see their high school's new play. They told me it was good. I didn't get to see it with them. I had to go to work. I would have been free all day Saturday, but my general manager decided that we are no longer allowed to ask off from work, because we were a 'abusing' the privilege.

Forgive me for telling you when I can't work.

We decided that we were going to fly by our whims in our activities that day. Of course I had some thoughts in mind. We could go see Sex Tape, especially now that it was at the cheap theater. I could always borrow what Rosencrantz and I always do, and go get cupcakes at this cute like shop that's downtownish.

The twins had their own plans. We were going to the thrift shop in search of flannels, sweaters, and jean shorts. Goodwill was stop number one. It was an experience. I never shop at places like this. It is so much fun, though. Go with a friend and laugh and cry at these clothes. That is what we did.

I was actually rather successful in my shopping. I got these oversized sweaters that don't fit me at all. The kind of thing I would never buy for retail, but at three dollars you're like why not. They're fantastic. I'm going to look so hipster this winter. Be prepared world. Tight jeans a sweater will be my wardrobe.

We of course tried on things we had no intention of ever buying. I tried on this great pimp jacket with some faux fur. Although, I might have actually bought it if it fit me. Just so I could have it. Sarabellum and I posed in it. Me as da pimp and her as da side hoe. We looked really sexy, just to let you know.

After that we finished it up at the Salvation Army. That was a productive event for me. I found another sweater. It was this mint, aqua color and I tried it on. Oh, honey boo-boo child. It was like a baggy crop top. I did not even walk out of the dressing room. It was really bad.

The only clothing item I bought was this hounds tooth jacket. The label says Christian Dior. I mean anything's possible. I love this jacket. It has shoulder pads and everything. It's terrible and great. People are either going to say I have great style or wonder what the fuck I'm wearing to school every day.

We even stumbled upon the music section of the Salvation Army. That was a rough little area. I wasn't looking for anything. What could I possibly find. The Mayor however pulled out a Hilary Duff compilation from the mire and handed it to me.

You might have been able to guess that I love Hilary Duff. I only write about her for the blog basically every week. And, the Mayor has known me long enough to know about this. I own most things with Hilary Duff in it. I have strong foundation of her music, I have all her studio albums, but I'm missing a few things. Like, I don't have the Cinderella Story Soundtrack or the song “Any Other Day” from the What Goes Up Soundtrack. So, when she saw Hilary's Most Wanted collection I had to have it. There were only three songs on it I didn't have, but I'd considered buying the What Goes Up Soundtrack for one song, so it was worth it.

The check out process was definitely the most fun. We watched this woman get fired in front of our eyes. We are in line. And, there's this older woman with this gray wispy hair tied up in a bun, a large cross around her neck. Her name is Lydia.

This younger woman comes up behind her and says, “Lydia, you can go on break.”

That did not please Lydia. She yells at her that she was “tired of her treating her like shit.” From there it just slowly escalated from go on break, to go home, to your getting fired today. All this time we are standing there not able to purchase our lovely clothes and CD.

It was a wonderful day. I haven't spent time with people outside of school and work since school started. I have been meaning to see Rosencrantz, but it just hasn't happened. Sacajawea has been rushing and doing sorority things and I can't keep up with that. Really, the only person I've been spending time with is Thunder and that's because we drive to school together. And, we're in the same program in school.

It was so great to see people. And, spend time with old friends. My Barbie sweatshirt also came in that day. Really, other then the nightmare that was work, it was great. Although, Miss Sara Bellum and the Mayor told me that they had actually seen my Barbie sweatshirt in Forever 21. Was it in my local Forever 21. No. Let's also talk about how the day after I ordered it they did a free shipping promotion. Sometimes the world is out to get you, and I'm really not here for it. It's just like calm down world. Go to Goodwill and get you some Louboutins.

Buy online at Forever 21