what the mother of pearl.

i'm eating peanut butter balls by the handful. they are delicious and i can't stop, won't stop. possibly for good reason. 

today was a shit day. and while i'd like to ignore the fact that i am sort of becoming one of those people—which, by the way, may be my worst fear—i can't not mention the reason my back has turned into one very solid hunk of pain. 

it was something of an adrenaline rush, really. details aside, was extinguishing one fire after the other, getting me a little high. and by the time i was at a point of exhaustion and belly ache, it was time for lunch. i met up with a friend and got to hear the exciting news about her new house. several 'oh shits, sures and omgs' later, i was back with my helmet on, hanging on for dear life on first and virginia. 

lots more flagged emails and wtf moments went by, and then finally, i noticed the clock anxiously near closure. 

okay. becoming quickly bored with my cluster-fuck recount, i'd like to note this:

1. i'm glad i never acquired an eating disorder, because i think i have many of the characteristics associated with them.

2. i'm pretty irritated and disappointed, but everything will be okay. 

3. walking home from caitlin's house wouldn't be half as bad if it wasn't cold as hell outside. and if i wasn't greeted with laughter. and if i had my keys.

4. i wish i had saltines to toss in my tomato soup. 

5. i really need to shake up my blog again. 

boo. 

hope next time i have something lovely to offer. 

untitled list from that one time last year.

dear blog, i am sorry i did not post you until now. you feel familiar.

--

1. dreamt up black and white fragments. sarcastic phrases in bold faced fonts.

3. broke a promise to myself. dear blog, i just cannot censor you. so i'll change my intentions.

7. sorted through once loved items. placed them into boxes i wished were smaller, more attractive.

7. endured the first funeral for myself—sitting on the floor—of my wonderfully silent capitol hill apartment.

8. lived. as the word 'therapy' paraded out of my mom's mouth.

4. questioned happiness. in all its relative seduction.

[x]. accepted life. a new life. for my self and my sanity.

10. remembered. how it feels to be close to you, lying in bed, on sunday morning.