01. I owned Black Friday. OWNED IT. I got five credit cards (not easy when we were already taking 20% every purchase, 5% more than the credit card discount) and fifteen or so All Access Passes. I was the only person all day to get credit cards.
02. Then, my manager and keyholder Amy chalked it up to my large breasts. Thanks guys, for making light of my skills. The only skills in the freaking store apparently, since I'm the only one keeping you afloat and keeping your very scary District Manager from calling you and screaming at you.
03. I love Taylor Dosey.
04. "If he shoots, he scores," has got to be one of the most disgusting pregnancy references I've ever heard.
05. "I am not a fan of books. I would never want a book’s autograph. I am a proud non-reader of books."- Kanye West
06. I want a zoom lens. I want one so bad. I also want instant photography skills.

Maybe I'm socially retarded, maybe I'm too picky about those who I keep close to me. Reading the blogs of various women across the world has reminded me over and over again that my sex is irritating, grating, insecure and condescending no matter where we are geographically. It doesn't matter where I run to-- Seattle, Los Angeles, coastal surf towns in Northern California-- I'm going to be surrounded by other women and their nonsense. The logical side of me tells me that I should just wade through the ridiculousness and bullshit and find some of the least irritating people possible, hold on to them with all my might and try not to drive them away with my baggage and low self esteem. Then I realize that I cannot handle any old drama, any old backstabbing bullying and self deprecating anecdotes. I need the nonsense of my favorite people in the world. I need Marta, Jamie, Amber, Leezo, Sasha and Alyssa. I need their nonsense, their drama, their insecurities. I need to tell them that they're crazy, that they're making a mountain out of a molehill, that they're beautiful and that I love them so much.

But they're scattered all over the continent, all over the globe, all over everywhere but here, and I'm all over Santa Cruz, all by myself.

01. I finally found a layout that doesn't drive me crazy. I wish I knew how to make my own.
02. I feel irritated and mad when people around me get pregnant. I don't understand why, I just do.
03. The biggest parts of decorating our apartment are coming to a close. We have organized our bathroom within an inch of it's life, we've created breakfast nooks and study areas and we've bought at least $300 in frames at Ikea for hanging art. There will be pictures soon.
04. Has anyone seen Horatio Sanz and Seth Rogen recently? Wow. They look amazing.
05. I crawled around on the beach today for four hours on a field trip. Hiking up sand dunes, nearly getting pummeled by waves on rock outcroppings looking for starfish-- been there, done that. I'm exhausted.

I got a haircut and made a cute face in this picture just for you. Ginny has been ignoring me because I've been dancing obnoxiously to Lady Gaga and Taylor Swift music. She's an indie rock kitty elitist.

Me!

Post a photo of yourself that you love in the comments section. I want to match names with faces!

A List Of Things That Went Wrong This Week:
1. I caught the gastrointestinal bug of death that left me puking like Linda Blair in The Exorcist, except my vomit was an orangey red instead of the pea soup green puke she spewed.
2. My identity was stolen and some punks ran up over $500 in charges at a Safeway in San Francisco. My bank account is on hold, my debit card has been chopped up and I have groceries to buy.
3. Our toilet, notorious for clogging at the sight of toilet paper, was stopped up so bad today that we had to hire a plumber to clear the clog. He charged us $180 for his auger skills and fifteen minutes of his time.
4. My university sent out an email to sophomores mandating that we declare our majors by spring quarter. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing and feel so fucking lost all I can say is fuck, fuck, fuck.

This is how amazing my boyfriend is: I puked out my guts last night. I tossed up everything in my stomach no less than eight times last night in a period of six hours. Jordan woke up every time to check on me, help me to the bathroom and throw away the garbage can of puke. I was hanging off the couch, my face in this garbage bag, making horrible gurgling noises and cursing this cheeseburger that bit me back when I started crying and apologizing profusely. "Baby, I'm so sorry. This must be so gross. *HEAVE, SPLAT* I'm so sorry you have to deal with this. I'm so sorry." *HEAVE, SPLAT* I had mascara all over my face when I sat up, my hair going every which direction, but he still looked and smiled at me like I was the most gorgeous thing in the world. He rubbed my back and said,

"Honey, I love you. It's my job to take care of you. This isn't gross. You're my poor sick baby and I'm here no matter what."

I'm most definitely marrying this kid.

I've been so tired lately. The only thing keeping me going is my love for Jordan.

Yesterday, my hebrew tutor choked on his own phlegm while trying to pronounce something (HA!) and I prank called Taylor Lautner. You wish you were me.



The problem with LJ: we all think we are so close, but really, we know nothing about each other. So I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. Ask away.

Or feel free to ask me to take pictures of things in my life.

01. My journal is now officially open!
02. The picture above is from Jordan's birthday last month. His family came to visit and his mother baked him a delicious cake.
03. They bought him a mandolin that he basically hasn't stopped playing since they left.
04. I love living with a musician. Waking up to soft guitar coming from the living room with sunlight softly illuminating everything through the curtains with Ginny cuddled in the blankets with me--- perfection.