wish i worked these sandals in before i trecked across the entire city in them. so close to getting my old bike back in the annex. went for a tan. for mexican with anna. grabbed some tips from work. went to watch some of ben’s band rehearse. ate a crepe at squirly’s. then to done right. now here i am bloated out of my miiiiiind byeeeeeeee.

swimming
pool

it’s gonna look good when it’s all messy. big and messy. just crawled out from under a pile of pillows and comforters so goin’ for that fell asleep in a department store duvet section look. bet i’ll get even more wig comments now.

no one even noticed at work.

tomorrow i’ll wake up and be like what have i done? blah i’ll be fine. i have so many backlogged photos with long hair it’s seems kinda pointless now. but no, it isn’t. still have to tell those stories.

SO TIRED.

good to know there’s some insane clown posse fans out there.

bent over and ripped a hole in the ass crack of my jeans that aren’t even mine. the booze pantry at work’s lock latch sticks out and clean cut a nick like butter right through my denim behind. awesome!

my hair is so soft you’d cry if you touched it you’d feel the warmth of a million sentimental hugs. the buzz after a good sneeze. other gay things. i am so bloated right now i look like a beach ball with arms and legs. pregnant fight club brad pitt (carly loves that one). i’m drinking some soothing tea. our house is almost in order i feel a bit of a heel for not being able to tidy up as much. don’t work til friday so tomorrow is total chill catch up day it better not rain. i have so much to do i don’t know where to begin. maybe i should just get my period and shut up.

oh my god

Have you ever been to Savannah, Georgia? Seriously, because there’s this one particular vintage shop I went into while on vacation there this past week and Oh-Em-Gee….dresses just made for you there! Every dress I saw, I was like, “Raymi could pull this off”, “This is a Raymi dress”. You’re clearly an icon down there and if you ever visited, or have in the past, then you’ve either left your mark or will be mayor in no time.

-Jordana

server colocation

great day to quit drinking. bombay gin party is today. alicia is my date. shuffle it all over to the next day then. mad catch up like no other but all i want to do is float around town in this warm niceness. it’s been a long winter. think ah may do just that. why do i feel guilty what did i do wrong? other than a gong show bday game thursday nite, piss poor recovery from that i was at work friday with my eyes barely open. then saturday melodie’s thing, which made us all right geniuses yesterday her actual birthday. since my party was kind of a well, i dunno, and melodie wasn’t around for it justifiably went to town which is great because i am never celebrating anybody’s birthday ever again so yeah, good to go.

hair appointment tomorrow THANK CHRIST. or well, the desk girl.

people who needlessly hate on flip flops we need to have a little chat. one, it’s called summer. two, if you take care of your shit then there’s nothing wrong with showing off those toes. i’ve seen feet in flip flops cleaner looking than some scummy ass shoes, better looking in fact a dickload more so than some cheesy tacky foot attire out there. just cos vice mag made it their “thing” to rip on flip flops, i don’t get it. look at me up there does it look like i give a fuck what you think? look at my feet yeah i may as well be bare foot. sandals are for good looking hippies like me. the end. lebowski forever. is this, a weekday?

oh also guess what i DO live near a beach and my entire philosophy on life is: look good for beach so you can fuck right off with that no beach for miles argument right now.

so hung. we escaped a houseguest that WOULD NOT LEAVE despite many many PLEASE GO NOW subtle hints.

here’s things i did to try to get the ball rolling:

-first i went and opened a curtain and plonked down a full (to-go!) glass of water and said hey do you want some water? to which was greeted a diva-like coy yawn, “no.” fine. also note i do not know this person so like if a roommate of my friends came in and offered me water i’d know straight away what was up and that would be my ass out the door.

-drank a wine spritzer and flat out ignored every mention of “oh i totally want to drink now.” comments.

-offered no weed but accepted some haha.

-sprawled out on entire couch so there was no room for anyone else.

-pretended was deaf or really into television.

– yelled out BYEEEEEEEEEEE numerous times.

-passive aggressively ignored every cute remark about meaningless shit with no polite mmmhmms or oh yeahs? like i normally constantly dole out for validation reassurance because i am actually a for real nice person BUT not when i am hung and anxious and hello who are you in my house i’m the only princess here.

-talked about how much cleaning we had to do and no we don’t need any help.

-paused movie and said I AM PAUSING THIS I HAVE SOMETHING TO DO IN MY ROOM SO I’M PAUSING THIS FOR NOW get the fucking hint!!!!!!! i knew it was my fault though for making it a fun atmosphere i knew if i put that on and he smoked some weed he’d never fuck off but i did then he did and so i had to pause the party.

-left room

-then he left and lucas said i could come out again.

the entire time lucas was stonewalling him too. packing up the turn tables. melodie left too even.

dear everyone who crashes at someone’s house after a party: WHEN YOU WAKE UP GET THE FUCK OUT. don’t ignore hints. no we don’t want to hang. unless you are being spooned and i’m whispering shit in your ear about brunch and such, um, payce child. do not prolong your walk of shame. just do it, own it, get it over with.

BYE!

was trying to show the totality of what i was feeling at the moment holy crap why am i even online right now.

garth algar here.

i changed many times. i see it like, a different look for a different mood and in the end you’re never wearing what you want. or i have so many clothes i could clothe a small good looking stylish army? or i’m hangin’ around my joint and i have access to my tickle trunk and you don’t so don’t hate.

lost my camera for the night was nice to be, without snapping away.

took the party to wrong bar for a bit then back to casa costello. we have plans for a hippie commune. a property near the city. massive garden, lots of land. every time lucas gets slaughtered he prattles on about this.

speaking of, that guy just called from the front of the house we’re gonna go walk for coffee my brain can’t deal with making it right now. i have to get us a new bodum still. i want the orange one that starbuck’s sells but the one near us only has black. black boring bodum, pass on that. we keeps it kitchy up in hurr.

i need to bump into a tanning salon asap.

xoxoxoxoxo

melodie’s phone is in here and it keeps going off with bday wishes texts phonecalls and i am too tarded and lazy to move it out of here and it’s annoying me yet like, my only friend right now? also freaks me out a bit cos it’s my old phone, old ringer and text sound effect – sound of a can being opened and root beer being poured. the ringer is airport hustle and bustle and some guy with a british accent over a PA. that’s right. total sketch.