Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Planes and Short Hair Explanations

I just ate a ham sandwich for breakfast.



Ya'll, I tried so hard to like the French Girl book. I finished it. I loathed it. I could tell it was supposed to be funny and witty and blah blah blah. But it just irritated me. Every last word of it. By the end I was just begging it to stop and be done already.

You know, because books self-edit when you hate them.

So I am sorry, dear sister. I did try.


So many many of my male readers (ok all TWO of you) wrote in dismay (ok, mild displeasure) about my haircut. For the record, I do not look manly. I look hot. Also, people stop me on the street with this hair. Men-type people. Heterosexual ones even. This hasn't happened to me so often since I was eighteen and had a very tight ass.

So do not worry. I appreciate your concern. Really I do. And I am shocked you are still reading here because all I talk about is hair and boobs and periods and poop. Which I know is HOT but still.


I have this strange sort of feeling lately. This feeling of waiting for something. I have no idea what I am waiting for. But it feels a little bit like I am at a layover, just waiting for my flight.

God, that is so fucking corny. It really is how I feel though. Like things are going to happen they just haven't started yet and until then I am just chilling.

Its not a bad way to be honestly.

I am not by nature a patient person. I usually rush from one thing to the next in a hurry to check things off my list. But I don't have anywhere to be right now. Nothing that I need to do.

It is also unsettling. Because I am so goal oriented and right now my only goal is to eat as many of those delightful Washington cherries as I can stuff in my face without making my intestines explode before they are gone for the season.

I know this is a worthy goal and all but still.

I am just waiting for my plane. Watching other people rushing for theirs. Boarding theirs. Flying away. Why am I not in a hurry? Especially since I have been in a fucking hurry since I was born. I couldn't tell you.

But I am not.

At least for today. Tomorrow will probably be something completely different.

7:19 a.m. :: comment ::
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