I'm back.

Hey, you, reader in Russia. I'm back. Thanks for holding out so long, and keeping your faith in me.

Lots has changed since I've last written in this blogosphere. (that's a thing now, you know). I've moved, changed boyfriends, gained a little weight, and gained a lot of perspective.

In the year, or maybe two....okay 3ish since I've been here, I've learned a lot. A lot about people, about the world, but most importantly about myself.

I've learned that all those cheesey as hell motivation posters and inspiration quotes on Facebook and pinterest are true. It's only taken my 27 years to get it through my thick skull.

Really, the only thing that matters is you. How you feel, how you think and basically how you 'do you'.

I'm really, really sick of caring what others think of how I look, how I act, speak, think etc.

Honestly, in the shower tonight I thought of a ton of profound things to say in this "I'm coming back bitches" blog, and guess what? I can't think of one of them right now.


I just spent the day working, and dealing with the general public, which, lets face it, has made me lose all faith in humanity. People are mean. People are stupid. And also, a lot of people have really really poor hygiene and stink. All of these people come into my workplace. Day after day. And me, and my co-workers are lucky enough to be the ones to plaster a smile on our faces and count their change.
And then, after work, I got to spend the afternoon with my mom, and a long lost friend.

My mom and I never had a really fantastic relationship until a few years ago, and we are now closer than ever. There are very few days that go by that I don't think of, or speak to her. She is my best friend and confidant, and sometimes my partner in crime.

Then. Well. I made the foolish (read:greatest) decision to callmy old friend Chris.
Chris is my mom's best friends son.... following?
He is my partner in crime. Or as his mom says "the second generation of best buddies"
Chris is that person you can tell anything to. The one who I can let my baggage, my crazy, my emotions show. And he'll just tip his glass to me and laugh. While judging me at the same time. Because that's just what we do. We commiserate, catch up, drink beer, and judge people together.

Times with these folks makes me realize how lucky I am to have them.
I realize, we are getting old. There's no reason to be fake, to try and fool anyone at this point. Just be who the fuck you are. Whether a glorious beautiful being, or a ridiculously beautiful train wreck.


Because as our bartender says "Your balls are hanging all loose and out there. Mine are on the inside, but they're still there."

I honestly know I don't make sense at this point, and that's ok. That's the beauty of writing. Anybody can do it. Some of us really really suck at it, and that's still ok.
That quote was from our bartender, who was really chill, and I was just trying to work it in there somewhere..

Insert inspirational quote here.

Just be you, and don't give a fuck. Really. It doesn't do any good to care what other people think.




Anyway, now that you're all really really confused trying to follow my trains of thought (That I, even on a good day can't follow) I hope you all (Yeah, I'm talking to you Bailey and 1 reader in Russia) are doing amazing. That you're living life to fulfill YOU, and nobody else, because that's just messed up.