Let's just jump right in...

For a solid two weeks I thought I was 100% pregnant. Nausea, the sorest of boobs, headaches that made me halfway blind and the overall feeling that something was off.  Fuck me, right?

It kind of made me experience a wide range of fucked up emotions/questions that were easily being answered in my head. I didn't think the answers to my selfstions (self questions, it's a new word, bask in it's glory) would be so easy or quick but it just kinda happened.

The first one being, am I ready to be a mom?" HELL NO I'M NOT. I honestly don't think a lot of people are ready for parenthood when it actually happens. Would I take the responsibility with a positive attitude? FUCK YEAH I WOULD. I've never been in a situation before this point in my life where I have had to come to that realization. When I was engaged I prayed that no accident's would happen. I did NOT want to have a child with the person I was with. We were catholic careful, because I think on some strange level we knew it wasn't going to work out. If I'm having a child with someone I want it to be real. Honest. Love. Happiness.

I have respect for all different kinds of families and I understand that people don't always get picture perfect family life with 2 parents together forever, but that's just not something I've never pictured my children without. Me actually getting that will be another story, but who knows? Life throws curve balls all the time.

So I took a test 3 weeks before my period was due. - Negatory. Hallelujah Amen! Whew. Ok. That's fine. Then the internets happened. I did research online about how accurate this really was and I found out that your HCG levels need to be about a 5 in order for you to be considered pregnant and you probably shouldn't test until after your missed period. I know some of you are like... Yeah. Duh. Fucking moron. But back the fuck up because I'm new at this shit!!!

Sorry... I got a little aggressive... anyways...

I waited and waited and still felt horrible. 1 week passed. Ok! Gonna take another test. Oh, you didn't know I'm tragically impatient? I am. No way was I waiting 2 more weeks to test. I talked to my boyfriend about it and we agreed that if anything were to come up positive it would be alright. No crazy breakdowns of "Oh sweet Jesus what am I going to do?!?" As crazy as it sounds, we're extremely secure in our relationship. It's hard to explain unless it's happened to you I suppose, but this kind of weird strange love hit me like The Hulk. We have a pretty large gap in age between us so he's not opposed to the idea of having children right now. I, on the other hand would definitely need some coaxing to calm the fuck down. Sure, it'll be alright after I freak the fuck out and worry about childbirth ten thousand times.

I took the test and this time when it was negative, I had a weird twinge of something strange. I don't really like feelings of any kind. Truly I border on humorous and angry most of the time but this was weird. It wasn't sadness, maybe disappointment? Maybe... At the time I didn't know. I was confused by it, but I wasn't pregnant. So there. It was done.

Your mind can do some crazy shit. Mine trolled me in the cruelest of ways. The next few days I kept having dreams about babies. I obviously had baby on the brain. I was nervous about it and STILL unsure of if I was or not.

I decided to just go to the doctor. I got my blood drawn and had an HCG of 2. Not pregnant. Ok, now I was for sure I wasn't pregnant. Blood test's don't lie right? Not gonna fib, that was a feeling of disappointment. I felt like I had accepted the fact that I was pregnant. Maybe I mentally prepared for a positive, as if this were a history test and I knew for sure I had made a good grade and then found out I failed. I don't know, nothing like that but something like that? The dream baby just fucked me up on a different level. I was happy in my dream, I felt like it was real... which don't even lie, shit can be a little heartbreaking when you wake up from an amazing dream.

Let me just say, fuck the internets guys. I started doing research because I didn't really get a full explanation of what a 2 meant. I have HCG in my system but not enough to be preggo. So I googled "HCG of 2". This should be a post in itself about the worst idea I've ever had in my life. I should have just left it alone. It took me for a ride into babiez land.

You could be pregnant especially if you haven't missed your period.

Nothing shows up until the week before your missed period.

You're not pregnant at all.

And then the STORIES of women saying they tested negative for everything and 2 months later they do an ultrasound on a suspicion and BOOM ya 3 months pregnant.

I'm not saying any of this is even possible for me. Maybe I can't have kids. I have no idea, I haven't tried and due to this crazy weird feeling of sadness I've had at the realization that I'm more than 100% not right now, I don't think I want to try for a while. If this is what women go through even on a small level trying to have kids and then not being able to... 1. Let me say, come here, I will hug you so hard, and I know it won't help but damn I'm here if you want to laugh at something completely unrelated and inappropriate and maybe talk about it, and 2. I don't really know if I'd be strong enough for the full dismemberment of hope that someone has to go through when trying to conceive a mini-me. Basically, I am saying these past few weeks have been tiring y'all. And if I don't get my period soon I'm going to have a mental breakdown and just freak out on everyone. I'm feeling the cramps of the red devil. I'm thinking she'll be here tomorrow. Maybe Sunday.

If not, cheers to another doctor's appointment on Monday.

Regardless of my shit, y'all better have a fucking fantastic weekend.

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My Running Experience

Today I decided to better my life and eat healthy and go running. My tiny cousin has been a pain in my ass from the minute we were introduced and just like anything that is 6 years younger than you and related... well you love them, but also sometimes want to hurt them for being so obnoxious.

Call it sweet revenge on my sisters part because she is also 6 years older than I am. Get a good laugh sis.

So my cousin, who is as close to a baby sister as anyone could be to me, (who is the known baby in the family) is a workout freak. She should be a trainer because she's so motivating, yet kind of a 17 year old hardass. I texted her and asked, merely asked, if she had any tips for working out and eating better.

Holy.

Shit.

Girl came at me like a ninja. I got a little discouraged because, no way did she just say her "Cheat MEAL" was a 200 calorie Starbucks coffee. Hah. I breathe 200 calories smelling my food before I actually taste it, guys.

"This girl is crazy" was my only sensible thought.

Well ... to my displeasure, I noticed a slight weight gain, which I wasn't really sweating, the real horror came when I realized I was eating junk day after day and my energy was completely depleted. I've been so tired. Don't get me started on my stress level which already takes a toll on my sleepy time. Needless to say, you are what you eat and I have been eating disgusting shit for about two weeks straight.

The only way I noticed how horrible my eating and drinking habits had gotten was because of my cousin. She would text me around 11, "What'd you have for breakfast?" "Redbull."
"Oh my god, that's horrible! Ugh, what are you going to have for lunch?"
"Uhh... my boss got Whataburger for me."
"OMG STOP. How much water have you been drinking?"
"Did I say Whataburger, I meant WATERburger. LOLZ. "
"-.-"
"Merp. Not funny? Well not a lot of water."

No water, no veggies or fruits, and living on energy drinks. Welcome to my life. Can't forget the weekend alcohol! So I decided to make a change. I got some healthy shit to nomz on, but eating it won't be the problem. For me... it's always been working out. I hate working out. Let me tell you a little story... of my work out tonight... It's not glamorous and I was not in a happy mood after I was finished. I did not feel delightful or like a badass. ...And here is why:

I debated with myself for an hour and a half on whether or not I was going to work out tonight. I promised myself I would, but I'm already laying down. But your pant's aren't off yet. But I'm so comfortable! You have no boyfriend and you look like hell. Youuuuu are a bitch and I'm going. 

After my internal war, I lazily slung my feet off the bed and proceeded to pants off dance off, and grab my sisters favorite pair of running shorts that she still doesn't know I have. In pure Taylor style, I found one running shoe in the closet and the other one under my bed. My dog immediately knew that we were going outside. OH MY GOD WE'RE GOING OUTSIDE - I can hear her screaming with delight in dog fashion.

IT'S BEEN 8 FUCKING YEARS SINCE WE'VE BEEN OUTSIDE AND I'M SO EXCITED TO DO THIS RIGHT NOW. OH MY GOD. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT OF HERE. I DON'T WANT THE LEASH JUST LET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HEREEEEEEEE. 

After wrestling to get the leash on my dog, I opened the door and basically got my arm pulled out of socket when she saw the neighbors cat just chillin all cat like on the stairs.

OHHHH MYGOD I WANT TO KILL THE FLUFFY. LETMEKILLIT!!!

Fuck the fuck out of this. My dog was literally dragging me around like a rag doll. She was bouncing around like a damn unicorn and all I could manage was a wide eyed crazy stare while muttering, "You're such a dick."

After I let her pee, we walked to the edge of the apartment complex where it hits the main road. Mia was jumping around like Tigger just possessed her, and I was just trying to walk a straight line and not get tripped. We made it past oncoming traffic and walked along the side of the road, the grassy area where you're allowed to walk.

There's something about my dog... She will chase anything. Whether it's a car, her tail, something in her imagination... She will run after it like it's offering her a giant bag of cold cut turkey. She loves turkey. Dog logic chose to chase the cars tonight.

Dog logic is stupid.

After she nearly pulled me into the street to get ran over 3 times, I pulled her leash tighter and had her walk right beside me. I suddenly felt a droplet of water fall from the sky. Da fuq? There are no clouds right now. The hand proceeded to reach for my head.

OH GOD IT'S BIRD SHIT.

Thank you bad luck. I thought you had forgotten about me, but I see now you were clearly just trying to make a grand entrance.

I continued to high pitch whine for the next 2 minutes while viciously rubbing the SHIT out of my hair with my shirt pulled halfway over my head exposing myself to God and everyone. Seriously though, what was I supposed to do?

After I felt like I'd sufficiently rubbed most of the bird shit out I decided, I'm going to take a shower anyways, I'll just keep going. I trekked on into the dark abyss of the forest laden night. Yeah. Seriously. It was dark and there were trees everywhere. I live in the WOODLANDS people. Wood-lands. Wood- MosquitosBirdshit-Lands.

I finally got a good jogging pace when all of the sudden Polly Pocket decided to come out of FUCKING NOWHERE like a goddamn wood nymph and scare the shit out of me and my dog. She didn't even noticed I squeaked, "Take the dog, Satan!" when she walked by jabbering on her cell phone! It immediately made me think she was a serial killer because, bitch don't lie, no one gets service out here. It's IMPOSSIBLE. My jog turned into a full of sprint after that because all I could think was, "I'm pretty sure I saw a butchers knife in her hand." I was done. I didn't want to sweat or work out or be dragged anymore. I started the walk home and all of the sudden I feel something crawling on my chest. MOTHERFUCK OHMYGOD WHAT IS IT? I swiftly (and by swiftly I mean as ungracefully as you could possibly imagine, think of when a fly buzzes past your ear and you flip the fuck out. That's what I did.) brush my chest with my hand. Gobs of sweat. I'm sweating. That is sweat dripping down my chest and it feels like things are crawling on me. Hahahahahaha. No. No I'm done.

Needless to say, I shan't be running anymore. I'll just see how the healthy eating goes for now. And that is that. Have a wonderful night people.... beware of the Polly Pocket Murderer.

I just creeped myself out. Fuck.

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I Want To Rant

Hey. Person.

Hi.

Do you know who I want to punch in the face with a cast iron dick sculpture?

People who talk at the movies.

Let me explain...

It started out as a wonderful evening of me being able to finally put my contacts in without feeling like tiny baby aliens were facesucking my eyeball. It's been an ongoing thing that ruins my life on the daily when I try to wear contacts. I somehow end up with a short version of non-infectious pink eye. Fun stuff.

Anyways, I decided on my outfit and with that decision came a pair of 5 inch heels. Woah. Yeah. Me in heels. Don't worry, I still hate them horribly. Especially after tonight.

So, my friends Lilly and Ted decide that we're going to go to dinner and a movie in The Woodlands. We are seated outside in the fucking blazing 8:00 heat and are also joined by Lilly's boyfriend and our mutual friend, Marshall. We eat our dinner speedily because, holy fuck our lives, it's hotter than Satan's butthole outside.

My thoughts were, Ok... either we're all off to go home after this, or we're going to see a movie. Nay, Lilly want's to go get coffee at Barnes and Noble. It's normally about a 3 minute walk from where we were eating. It turned into a 7 minute walk because "Omg guys, this isn't the way to the movies." Yeah, that's me... whining. I'm in heels, my feet hurt and I'm hobbling at this point. I'm out of shape and my little legs are screaming at me to put more pressure on the other one. Literally screaming "I'm gonna cramp up! Oh fuck, I'm gonna cramp up! ABORT." Cramp they did.

Lilly gets her coffee and a book and we all decide it is much safer in there than in the 9:30 sauna that is taking place outside. Finally after a few short conversations inside the book store, we decide to brave Mother Nature once again. I'm still hobbling, and we're walking a good 8 minutes to Hubble and Hudson to get gelato. WHY? BECAUSE LILLY WANTS GELATO. Damn it Lilly.

On our way to H&H, the group decides to stop off at their cars in the parking garage and drop off their left overs. Ted and I decide that we're not waiting for Lilly and Marshall, we're just going to go to the cold air. As we're walking I hit a downward slope. Slow motion explanation: I'm carefully trying to keep from screaming about how I feel my feet might need to be chopped off from loss of circulation, when suddenly, I hit a bump. My legs buckle, my leftovers fall, and there's a bush that is being of no assistance. Seriously bush, way to help. I'm pretty sure my face was the picture of, "God Damn It." I take a knee like any good athlete, then I take a hand and almost a face to the floor. Short story, I ate shit. In heels. Not. Fucking. Cute.

Ted's just like, "Oh God, are you ok?"

"Yes. Except my ego hurts so much now from embarrassment I don't really feel my feet anymore."

"Well, that's good."

Good man.

We get to H&H, all the while, Ted keeps looking back, making sure I'm not on the ground. We get our Gelato and finally make our way to be seated... THANK JESUS.

A chair.

That's all I want.

I don't want to be graceful or fake being graceful, I miss my converse and happiness. I can remember it, but I can't feel it and at that point during the night I thought I never might feel it's warm but not scalding hot touch again. Lilly and Marshall show up and we decide to see World War Z. Cool. I'm down.

We leave H&H and I almost eat it again so Marshall bluntly says, "Ted, hold her." Which gave a laugh to everyone. Trust me, I'm embarrassed for all of five minutes, but then I can laugh at myself because, dudes, shit happens. I'm not crying over a trip. I'm crying because I was probably going to need stitches for the knee I fell on.

Regardless of my need for an E.R. we make our way to the movies and finally find a seat in the crowded theater. Here is where my frustration begins...

Lilly and Marshall are talking. That's cool, be coupley and adorable, but so help me, if you talk during the movie, I will have homicidal thoughts involving you and me and a blanket of scorpions.

The movie begins,  I'm 5 minutes in and the action has already started and grabbed my attention. "Hehehehe, oh my god no that wouldn't even happen." I sideways glance around to see who I need to shank and it's Lilly talking to Marshall. *twitch*

I let it go because I get distracted by another part of the movie. Ok, now we're getting to the crazy part. "Ok, did he really just die like that? Oh my god. Seriously, that's not how it happened in the book." ...

.....


......

................

You can ask anyone, if you talk during a movie, I will quietly tell you to shut your fucking mouth. I didn't pay 10 bucks to hear you narrate shit, or hear your conversation about how Johnny and Bitchfart aren't together anymore. Shut... Shut... Shut your fucking mouth. I will hurt you. 

Merely because Lilly is a friend, I gave her a few shots to shut her fucking mouth before I said something. 

Finally it gets kind of quiet again, but then the happiness is interrupted by chatter on another fucking level. Lilly and Marshall are laughing, and giggling, and telling each other the math answers they got for AP algebra in 10th grade. I don't fucking know but I obnoxiously tell them to CHT. CHT. More like, CHTCHT. Duck hand and everything in her face. CHT MOTHERFUCKING CHT.

She better be happy I wasn't like,

                 

 Because, guys, it was fucking close.

Lilly kinda gets the hint, but still doesn't really get the hint because they continue to talk through the entire movie and I just sat there... quietly....

Plotting their deaths. 

But let me ask you, if you're going to go to the movies, why talk? Why? Why? Why for the love of God, why? 

With scary movies, I talk, but it's out of pure nervous fear. Ex: Dumb bitch is walking into the dark scary room and the power is out. She doesn't have a weapon except for her giant boobs, and right before her television and phone line went dead the news reporter was saying there was a mass murderer on her block.

And I'm like, "Nope."

I shake my head a lot, I cover my eyes, and I'm crouched in my chair like I belong in the circus as the girl who can fit her body into very tiny places. But during any other type of movie, my mouth is shut. I try to have respect for fellow movie goers who spent their money to see a movie. So, if I hear you talking in a movie theater, I will be that rude bitch that turns around and just stares at you with this face.

Seriously, pipe the fuck down you annoying bitchfarts. Ok. My rant is done, thanks for reading. I hope you laughed at me falling, because I did.

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Laziness at it's finest

Everyone here should know by now that I am a pinterest whore. 

On top of being that thing I just mentioned, I'm also wildly and irresponsibly lazy. 

Here are a few pictures I picked up recently from that amazing website.

On the real though, I haven't been dancing in a while... but that's probably a good thing since I look like two donkeys making passionate love to a gorilla on the dance floor.

Ryan Reynold's just knows....

Good for you person who saw this and went "Yeah... look at me living and shit." 

Good. For. You.

I used to think this every day... Now I'm quite delighted with my job.

Oh doppleganger Tina Fey, I wanna eat your face.

More like any day you're driving in Houston traffic at 5:30 P.M.

My poor beau just felt the wrath of Satan because of my PMS. Poor guy.

I do this. Alllll the time.

I say this, and I mean it.

Pound of coke. That is all.

Seriously.

Or the sound of a cockroach flying in the dark.

I will hump the person who gets me a fucking library. HUMP I SAY.

Blog, Diary, Potato, Potatoe

Because food never disappoints me.

Hah. 

Asshole.

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Hey Guys... I'm Back-ish

Let's just jump right in.

I've been gone.

I've been busy? No... not really more like, morbidly depressed with life. If it's one thing I'm super awesome at, it's definitely being pessimistic. I can try and be cheery and elated with new life, but that takes effort. It's just so much more natural for me to be kinda bitchy and negative. It makes you laugh. Don lie. <- That's a funny accent, not a misspelling, pinky swears it.

So why am I so negative Nora all of the sudden?

Well, bitch, there are many reasons, like... I got into a car accident on the same day that I got a new job. Right there. I get good news and the universe is all, "Oh what? You're kinda semi happy with an odd looking smile thing on your face? KAPPPLOWWEEE!!! Buttfucked up the life hole! Have fun with that." Universe: 1, Taylor: -52.

To me, being 21, living alone, and having to battle roaches, and shitty people I used to work with, and parents being worried about me 24/7, and the impending zombie apocalypse... shit gets stressful. Oh yeah, and I constantly have money issues, and my dog ate chocolate and had the shits last night, and I'm pretty sure a roach was crawling on my arm this morning.

Let me paint a dark picture for you. Here I am... in my little boat on a placid body of water, and the weather isn't gorgeous, but it's not a full blown hurricane. Then, a split second later a tornado full of old men watching porn, and feral cats touches down next to me, the wind is full force, acidic water is pimp slapping me in the face. and the goddamn lochness monster just chomped my arm off... and instead of bleeding blood, I bleed roaches. It's not cool.

                                  

You're welcome for that.

It's a slippery slope being in my mind. I just get lost and I'll try to climb my way back out, but it's wishful thinking for now.

I think most of it is my apartment. If you live in shit, I'm pretty sure you feel like shit. Except for those people who live like kings and still feel like shit. I don't know how that works exactly... but my apartment was once a place I felt comfortable sleeping, and then the roach infestation happened and it's just gross. I pretty much gave up.

I know it doesn't sound that bad, but every time I try to cook, one will be like, "Hey... whatcha cookin' good lookin?"

Every time I take a shower, "You didn't have to wash off for me. I like dirty girls."

Every time I go to sleep, "Room for two? ......................Thousand."

So, that depresses/ruins my feeling of safety and comfort. I have a bunch of freeloading roommates who eat my food and use my water... also they carry diseases, but I get fear out of the relationship, so that's cool.

A ray of sunshine in this dark demented blog of mine is that I did meet a nice (actually nice) guy. Who's to say what's going to happen, but for this moment in time he is pretty cool. He even kills roaches. Another glimmer of light, I also got a new job that I'm extremely happy with. My stress level with work has gone done 110%, it's crazy. I'm thinking I might be moving towards a good place in my life but I'm not actually going to say it out loud for two reasons. 1.) The universe will buttfuck me and 2.) A roach will probably interrupt me all like, "Hey girl, do you like babies, because I just had 16 of them in your bathroom."

Yeah... I'm done now. I'll be back soonish.

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Dear Neighbor,

I heard you the other night. Porn video playing oh so loud. 

I felt like your stalker and I really hope you mind. Neighbor, my dear, other people can hear your videos as well. In a very awkward way, I'm a little disappointed the noise only lasts for about 6 minutes. Really. Your poor girlfriend. 

Oh wait... You probably don't have one. 

BOOM! ROASTED!

Silly neighbor, I don't know if you mean to play your serial killer music at 2 in the morning while I'm trying to sleep, but you do. It makes me want to be a serial killer. 

Just.

Like.

You.

Neighbor, old friend, and I do mean "old" quite literally... because I saw you the other day and made eye contact. You know, the eye contact that says, "I heard you fapping the other night." It was long and awkward. <--- I bet that's what she said to you minus the "long" part.

Sweet sweet disgusting neighbor, I'm about to arm myself with a shit load of people at my apartment and just blast awful rap music while we do nothing but play cards with ear plugs in for 6 hours straight.

I beg that we come to an agreement where you only fap while I'm at work and blast your horrifically serial killerish music before I go to bed. That way I only have nightmares about dying instead of actually fearing for my life when I wake up at 2 in the morning to your creepy music.

One last note neighbor of mine, suck my dick. Because I hate you and your very creepy lifestyle.

Sincerely,

Creeped out downstairs neighbor

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DJango Unchained - Uhrmerzin

Hey peeps,

....

Peeps.

I don't understand the fascination with that candy... 

1. It looks like Jabba the Huts terd and or child. Really, what would be the difference in that case?

2. It's a fucking sugarcoated marshmallow and I don't understand how that's appealing. That makes me want to get a glass of water right now.

Now that I'm done with that random rant... 

Guys,  for cereal, I'm getting over my roach fear. I know this is about the 7th post in which the subject of bugs and or roaches arises but really, I'm kinda proud of myself. I legitimately just murdered Kevin (I named him Kevin so I could slay him) in my dining room. Granted he was little and I'm sure I'll be scared shitless when his mother Marissa (Prenamed for future death) comes looking for me, but for now, I went all badass Rambo and slayed that motherfucker with the likes of a broom. 

Chyeah... Gettin' medieval and shit.

So anyways... I figured I could tell you about DJango Unchained. 

Hey, have you seen it?

No?

You should probably leave bro.

Cause...

SPOILER ALERT:

Kind of...

Seriously Spoiler Alert. I'm going to tell you good shit about this movie and I don't want you coming to my house and murdering me because I ruined the movie for you.

1. It was good.

2. It was gory.

3. Q.T. Makes his cameo and it's pretty fucking legit.

4. Jamie Foxx just looks like a fucking badass.

5. WHAT??? LEONARDO DICAPRIO IS IN THIS MOVIE SINCE WHEN? OHMAHGAHD.

6. Oh, .... Leo is a dick face.

7. Kerry Washington is suriously pretty.

8. I fucking love that silly german Christoph Waltz  who also played the Nazi dude in Inglorious Basterds and drank the milk and completely won my heart. Seriously, I love the way he talks and pronounces words. I just want an audio tape of him saying a whole bunch of random shit to fall asleep to.

If that wasn't enough to creep you out... here's a picture of his face.

So I got a little carried away. 

The ending is amazing... if you like explosions and a lot of blood... which I'm cool with. 

Only down side to this funny/gory movie was that it was FOREVER long. I went to a 10:45 showing and got out at 1:30. Fuck My Life. My mistake for sure, but even so I really get antsy sitting in close to 3 hour movies. I was getting fidgety in Avatar and it was beautiful. 

Just kidding, I guess I ruined nothing for you... because I got kinda lazy at #2 and didn't want to explain the whole situation so I just spewed my opinions on the actors. Good movie nonetheless.

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Bugs Just Wanna Have Fun

Hey girl hey. 

How’s it going? I like to ask you because I really do care. Really. So tell me how ya been? Send me an e-mail. Yeah. Do that if you want.

I think I’m getting a little overwhelmed with life and things of that nature because I swear to God I’ve been flipping out over the smallest things. I don’t know if it’s my job or my life in general... I feel like shit’s going pretty good, but I just feel the need to genuinely EXPRESS THE FUCK out of myself every single day with no care for what 

that bitch, 

or that ho, 

or that clown thinks.

I might care a little what he thinks...

It’s wonderful. I think you should try it. Mind you, I say things I feel fully knowing I could in fact get punched in the face for my words. So if you're not ready to be hit in the mouth, don't do it. 

On another note-

Holy sweet jesus there are fucking bugs everywhere in my apartment. Not a cornucopia, more like a plethora. I just like those words, they have no necessary reason for being in that last sentence other than the fact that I enjoy them. Anyways, back to the bugs. I know the maintenance people sprayed enough toxic bug slaying gas in my apartment before I moved in because I find dead bugs (tiny dead bugs) everywhere. Dead or not I’m still flipping shit if I happen to run across one in my living room. 

First dead bug encounter- In my closet. 5:27P.M. January 6th, 2013. 

That would do a better job of waking me up than coffee ever could. Realizing I was screwed because no one lives with me to pick up said dead roach, I had to do the deed. I armed myself with... well... basically an entire roll of toilet paper, had my body as far away as humanely possible from my own roach scooping arm and held my breath for what felt like an eternity screaming in my head OHMYFUCKINGGOD OHGOD!OHGOD!OHGOD!OHGOD! I didn’t say any of this out loud for the mere fact that if it were sleeping, I did not want to wake it. This entire scene may have just looked like a girl picking up a roach, but in reality it was sheer terror that consumed my limbs. I threw the damned thing in the toilet and immediately did a freak out shake when I flushed him down. However, I then went into panic mode stage 9, because the pressure I exerted on the toilet handle to make it flush was apparently not SUFFICIENT enough to get the job done. The awful thoughts I had when faced with apparent danger-that a roach may soon take vengeance on me and fly out of my toilet straight on to my face... basically made me want to cry. So I double flushed while silently praying to the great lord in heaven that this double flush didn’t cause my toilet to over flow, spewing a roach as well as dirty toilet water in my general area. Luckily that didn’t happen but I swear I now check the perimeter every time I need to bleed the lizard. I guess that saying doesn’t really work with me since I’m a girl... but for the sake of this post let’s just go with it.

Take 2- In my kitchen. 9:54P.M. January 13th, 2013.

Oh HELL to the NO. There was a roach in my kitchen people. It wasn’t just on the floor either, and this time it wasn’t immediately dead. I had just gotten back from Walmart, I’m unloading groceries and the only light I have on is from my scentsy (side note-shit smells delicious). I’m just tralalalaing my happy self to the pantry, then the fridge and back and forth until I’m nearly finished. I hear some noise... ABOVE ME. It’s not just any noise-NAY! It’s some crawling noise. The thought alone is kind of making me twitchy. 

I slowly back out of the kitchen because I already know what it is and begin my search for the maker of this noise. I named him Bob. Seriously though, I called him Bob. This isn’t something that’s funny for me, this is, “I have to name you so I can kill you” kind of thinking. Maybe that’s wrong, but it works. So Bob is hiding from me and I’m dreading turning on my over head light because my biggest fear is that I heard him in the wrong place and instead of running away from him, I ran toward him and he’s already half way up my back. OH GOD THAT’S SUCH AN AWFUL THOUGHT. Happens every time.

So I rip the bandaid and turn the overhead light on and there he is. I see his dark icky shape in my overhead fluorescent. Bob starts crawling out of the fixture because he doesn’t like the light. He wants to be in darkness because even he knows he’s fucking disgusting. So obviously I immediately turn the light back off and say “Bob.” He actually stopped moving as though he were really listening to me. “If you stay up there and leave me alone, I won’t kill you. I’ll just let you live. Bob, I’m just saying though, I swear to the heavens if you come in my bedroom tonight, I will end your life slowly with a bottle of windex. You keep to your side of the apartment, I’ll keep to mine.” He knew I wasn’t lying, so I didn’t see him for 3 days. I found him in my pantry on his back, dead from the toxic poisons today. I really cannot bring myself to pick his dead corpse up and dispose of him though. I will actually pay someone gas money + $5.00 cash to do this for me. 

If I do it, I’ll have to down a bottle of wine first. 

Irrational fears are the worst. 

There have been more dead bug stories but I think that kind of gets my point across. 

Also, my neighbor is about to get hit in the face with a dead fish. 

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Living... Alone...

Hello all you lovely people... otherwise known as assholes.
Hey.
It's ok.
I am one of you.

So I have been all settled into my new apartment for about a week and fuck yeah it's been awesome. Sometimes it's really boring though. Like woah! I'm so bored I might try to climb on the ceiling. I have so much energy and time to do nothing! It's great. Truly.

I've listed some pros and cons to living alone... Ready? No? Ok, fuck you I'm going anyways.

Pros
1. I sing... A lot... Awfully. So I can do that shamelessly now.

2. I do anything and everything with the doors open. I don't have to ever close any door except my front door. I can't explain why this is magical to me... But it is.

3. I eat what I want... I don't have to ask what anyone wants for dinner. Ever.

4. I can look ugly until I go out into the world.

5. I don't have to count on anyone for rent or grocery money because that would just put me in a constant state of panic.

6. I can decorate however I damn well please! "I think that poster with 'Frankie says relax!' looks good fuckknuckle!"

7. Basically... I do whatever the fuck I want. It's awesome.

Cons
1. What the fuck, bugs. OHMYGOD I had to PICK a roach UP. Thank Jesus it was already dead... because if it wasn't I would have been stuck in a corner with a bottle of windex praying I was hitting it and it didn't fly. OH GOD THE MADNESS! So that sucks... Not having anyone to pick up dead things. Or kill gross things.

2. Uhhh...

3. I got nothing.

4. Oh, I have to clean everything... But that's really ok because I have so much free time.

So there you have it! I just got my couch today and I'm super happy with it..

It's colder than a widows vagina outside so I get to stay warm up in this awesome apartment of awesome fun ceiling climbing fun. Fun. Who wants to come over and help me climb on the ceilings? Or we can drink until we think we're on the ceiling but we're really still on the floor going "Hey, this ceiling is well carpeted."

Decide wisely young skywalker.

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You drunk bitch

I'm drunk blogging. Horray! So what am I doing you ask? Well I'm sitting in my awesome fucking apartment chillin like a straight motherfucking villain. What the FUCK are you doing? I am playing drunken solitaire by my lonesome waiting for my good friend to get here and entertain my face. It's exciting. I fucked it up though because I don't know how to play solitaire sober ... So drunk me is just going nuts. I'm throwing cards in the other room I'm so drunk. "GET OUTTA HERE 4!!! EVERYONE HATES YOU!"

Someone let me live by myself and that was a fucking MISTAKE when mixed with alcohol.

My name is Robin Scherbatsky. I like to play cards. Is anyone else's world spinning? Fuckin DRAGONS!?!?

Hey... Do you like dragons?







Cause I'm gonna be draggin' my nut sack on ya face! Hahahahaha ... LAUGH you FUCKING PERSON.

Caps lock was on for no reason and my face is numb. Yeah.

Umm. I got mad at the cards. Ok. I'm gonna go now. Bye. I'll make a better blog next week.

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