Kelsey’s List

My sister Kelsey is a very pretty woman. She also has a heart of gold. There should be a fucking Disney princess made for her. I was shocked the first time I heard her say a girl from our sorority, Allie, was a “mean bitch.” I can’t blame Kelsey though; I think Allie is a shit-stained coochy rash, but whatever.

The point I’m trying to make is Kelsey is pretty damned perfect, at least in my book. It takes a lot to put up with my shit, and she’s been there for me through it all. I love her and would kill a fair amount of people to keep her safe.


Isn’t she gorgeous? Don’t mind the weird-looking fuck in the foreground.

All that said, she’s never had a boyfriend. During one of our day drinking sessions (we went through some shit with our sorority that ultimately caused us to petition to go alum early, and we drank when things were particularly bad), I asked her what she wanted in a guy. I was curious if she was just super picky. She listed only three things:

  1. He has to be nice.
  2. He has to like her.
  3. He can’t be a “raper.”

That’s it. As the night progressed I kinda picked up on why she didn’t pay too much attention to men. I saw why she feels more comfortable drinking when there are only women present, and I try my best to accommodate her (she’s usually designated driver, and I have no qualm with that).

Anyhow, we have the same birthday (February 11th) and I have every intention of spending the day or weekend with her. I’m gonna see if she wants to party with the crew team and the sorority sisters we like.

Fuck Allie, that coochy rash.


An update. Fuckin’ A.

His Birthday

It’s in a week on the 6th. I haven’t spoken to him since August. I’m not entirely sure if it’d be appropriate to say anything.

I just want to know he’s not angry with me… or going to ignore me for the rest of his life. Scratch that. I want to know if he’s even alive.

We’ll see if I work up the courage to say anything. I’ve got a week. A lot of shit can happen in a week.

Even if he just says “thanks” I’ll be content.

In case if I don’t tell him…

Happy birthday, Michael.



Ow, Fuck!

I haven’t had a menstruation cycle in nearly three years. I’d almost forgotten the way my insides feel like skewered, roasted meat.

I just popped 2500mg of acetaminophen. Before I was implanted with Nexplanon, I would take Percocet for the pain. My prescription ran out, and now I have to take over-the-counter pussy pills instead of my sweet, sweet narcotics.

Apart from the crampage caused by what feels like mini soldiers with fixed bayonets wreaking havoc on my uterus, I’m all right. I’ve never had mood swings or witnessed that one scene from The Shining coming rushing out of my vag.

PMS is a myth women made up so they could get away with being bitches for a week out of the month. They need to do everyone a favor and get laid… Or fingerbang themselves. Shit.

Like Water Through My Fingers

Something always happens. I guess it’s not all bad, but I seem to be the only one left alone, waiting. Hurting.

I clear the picture, new spectacles for his face. He sees what he has to do with this new perspective. He sees I’m not needed. He leaves. I hurt.

I soothe his wounds. I lay his head in my lap and tell him he’s safe with me. I accept him and pass no judgment. His ex calls. She’s left her fiancé. He goes back to her. I hurt.

He says I’m his first great love. He says he still loves me, always will. He asks for my address so he can send me a wedding invitation. I hang up the phone. I hurt.

It seems I’m never enough. I want so badly to fit, my head cradled in someone’s arms.

But there are no arms, nothing to catch me.

I fall to the floor. I crash. I break. I shatter.

I hurt.

On the brighter side of things, I seem to be the female version of Dane Cook in that movie Good Luck Chuck. I’ve never seen that film; maybe I’ll watch it while I’m snowed in.

Fat People Hobbies

I’ve gotten really fat.

The only way I get skinny is if I guilt trip myself into shape. I write down every goddamned thing I eat, look it over at the end of the day, and mentally shred myself to bits every time I see junk food. It’s a really good system.

So yes, that is exactly what I’ve done this morning with breakfast.

As for exercise… I should pick up swimming again. It gave me a hard body, and I’d like to have that again. One of my teammates, Derek, said he’d box with me and take me to the weight room as long as I’m his hype man. I can do that.

Derek and I. I think he was eating something.

My buddy Pat told me I should have three hobbies: one should get your creative juices flowing, another should make you money, and the last should keep you in shape. He said blacksmithing can do all three. Pat makes armor in his house.

Whatever. At least this “I should stop drinking” stint I’m going through will help me shed the weight.