Haha look what I wrote a couple weeks ago..
.....................................
Long gone are the days of my inane need to dwell on the past, only to be replaced by an abundance of curiosity for the future.
A wise woman once accused me of choosing to be miserable. Saying I enjoyed being morose, dejected, despondent. Always hopeless. To despise myself and hate all those around me. Well grandmother, it seems you do have insight into the gloom that is me. I admit that I do have a tendency to see The Cup as completely empty, isn't it easier to be alone? Disappointment weighs on me so heavily that I try to avoid human interaction as much as possible..
In retrospect, my tendency toward alienation was and is the sole cause of my self deprecation. All I've ever known has been self loathing and apathy, so now that I'm finally happy, I keep finding myself questioning my actions.
"Is this real?"
Don't underestimate my eternal hate for a majority of the human race, I've still got some spite in me yet.
..............................................
Hahaha I clearly never got around to finishing it, but the intention to keep on with my writing is still there. WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?! Sounds like I was starting to get all 'deep' and shit. Didn't I used to be funny? (Depending on who you ask.) I miss writing about the people I meet that make me miserable. I miss writing about all the unbelievable situations I situate myself into.
Looking back at previous posts has really made me miss writing (complaining), whether my writing is worth reading or not, I don't care anymore.. it's a hobby I enjoy and I plan on starting back up again on a regular basis. First I have to convince my boyfriend to let me keep my legs closed for at least an hour while we're home.
XXX
Miranda
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Especial
Here's the deal dummies
The only time I ever seem to write anything worth reading is when I'm extremely butt hurt (hurt, not sore) about either boys or booze. Neither of which I'm currently having any problems with. For the first time in over a year. I make out with my boyfriend, watch horror movies and drink margaritas by the beach every night. I've nothing to complain about. I just can't help but notice that a few of my friends seem to have an issue with my surprise encounter with pure bliss.
"You can't write worth shit anymore." "Write something humorous and sadonic NOW." "You need to write more." "You're losing it... You lost it.."
WRITE! WRITE! WOOOMP WOOOMP.
What the fuck ever dudes. Maybe if my best friend wasn't constantly texting me, saying how bad I suck,.. that it's only all down hill from here.. well maybe THEN I'd actually WANT to write again. (Kelly James Mullinix, this one's for you.)
Which would you like to hear about first? Would you like for me to talk about the fact that the fucking loser I fucked a few months back wants to hang out again now that I'm dating someone? (Nice try buddy, I'm far from over it. Why is it we only want what we can't have?) Or shall we discuss the 87 year old feet that I'm forced to give pedicures to only a bi weekly basis? The later shall we? The state of California thinks that you should know how to give a fucking mani pedi if you want to cut hair for a living. They also want you to know how to give facials and wax the mustache off of 42 year old single women. (And sometimes their chin.) Give me a hairy back or wannabe 70s porn star vagina to wax anyday. PLEASE give me a vagina to wax. Taint, balls, whatevssss. Waxing anything would be better than giving a pedicure to the feet of an 80 year old.
Sure the conversations you have while giving pedicures and manicures are extremely entertaining, but they don't make up for the fact that I permenantly smell like an old woman's feet. Even after I've showered twice. Do you know that smell? The smell of death? It's vomit inducing.
On a side note, my son is going through momma withdrawals. I've been home about three times in the past two weeks, and even then it's only been for a limited time (to switch out clothes from my overnight bag) so my cat has decided to shit everywhere. Yes, my grandmother picks it up.. but all she does is throw it in the toilet. And doesn't flush. So lucky me, I get to come home to a toilet full of cat shit. Can you make sense of the fact that she doesn't flush after she tosses poop in my toilet? I can't!
I hope I don't make it past 63. Geriatrics. FUUUUCK.
XXXO
Miranda
The only time I ever seem to write anything worth reading is when I'm extremely butt hurt (hurt, not sore) about either boys or booze. Neither of which I'm currently having any problems with. For the first time in over a year. I make out with my boyfriend, watch horror movies and drink margaritas by the beach every night. I've nothing to complain about. I just can't help but notice that a few of my friends seem to have an issue with my surprise encounter with pure bliss.
"You can't write worth shit anymore." "Write something humorous and sadonic NOW." "You need to write more." "You're losing it... You lost it.."
WRITE! WRITE! WOOOMP WOOOMP.
What the fuck ever dudes. Maybe if my best friend wasn't constantly texting me, saying how bad I suck,.. that it's only all down hill from here.. well maybe THEN I'd actually WANT to write again. (Kelly James Mullinix, this one's for you.)
Which would you like to hear about first? Would you like for me to talk about the fact that the fucking loser I fucked a few months back wants to hang out again now that I'm dating someone? (Nice try buddy, I'm far from over it. Why is it we only want what we can't have?) Or shall we discuss the 87 year old feet that I'm forced to give pedicures to only a bi weekly basis? The later shall we? The state of California thinks that you should know how to give a fucking mani pedi if you want to cut hair for a living. They also want you to know how to give facials and wax the mustache off of 42 year old single women. (And sometimes their chin.) Give me a hairy back or wannabe 70s porn star vagina to wax anyday. PLEASE give me a vagina to wax. Taint, balls, whatevssss. Waxing anything would be better than giving a pedicure to the feet of an 80 year old.
Sure the conversations you have while giving pedicures and manicures are extremely entertaining, but they don't make up for the fact that I permenantly smell like an old woman's feet. Even after I've showered twice. Do you know that smell? The smell of death? It's vomit inducing.
On a side note, my son is going through momma withdrawals. I've been home about three times in the past two weeks, and even then it's only been for a limited time (to switch out clothes from my overnight bag) so my cat has decided to shit everywhere. Yes, my grandmother picks it up.. but all she does is throw it in the toilet. And doesn't flush. So lucky me, I get to come home to a toilet full of cat shit. Can you make sense of the fact that she doesn't flush after she tosses poop in my toilet? I can't!
I hope I don't make it past 63. Geriatrics. FUUUUCK.
XXXO
Miranda
Monday, November 1, 2010
SWF
I kissed a boy and I liked it.
I suppose in this case you'd call him a MAN though. (Yes, the man that is older than my mother.) But he's immature so that makes him more like 35. I haven't been posting lately because of him. I just can't get enough! We have a routine. I go to school then I head over to work, and once I'm off, he gets me off. That doesn't really leave anytime for me to lurk around my blogging spot in hopes of seeing 'That Guy.' Who I'm completely over by the way. I pretty much just realized how big of a tool he was and something just clicked. (HE WAS A COMPLETE WASTE OF TIME)
My new beau and I have been hanging out everyday for the past week. Which is going to make moving back to Portland somewhat difficult. I finally found a guy that didn't get back together with his ex WIFE the day after we sealed the deal and who also refuses to let me pay for anything. Tall, pale, extremely creepy and old. I may have just scored me a keeper. Oddly enough the same thing happened to me in Portland before I moved to Pismo. A month before I moved I started hanging out with this guy Richard. He turned out to be amazing but I had already notified my job and apartment building of my plans to depart so I wasn't able to stay.
I was really hoping this wouldn't happen again. Everything seems to be falling into place for both my options. I'm finally enjoying school, I've made a few more friends and I think I might be kind of dating someone.. but my girlfriend also just sent me some money to help me move back and I just got a call from someone who said I can live in his condo for free while he lives in Texas for the next year. I really hate making decisions. I just want someone to force me to do something.
What do I do when the pros and cons of staying weigh each other out?
However, I'm thinking my biggest problem is not being able to write for shit! If you made it this far I applaud you. My writing is the pits and for this I apologize. I just need to get my groove back. Where's Stella? I've got some questions to ask that woman.
XXXO
Miranda
I suppose in this case you'd call him a MAN though. (Yes, the man that is older than my mother.) But he's immature so that makes him more like 35. I haven't been posting lately because of him. I just can't get enough! We have a routine. I go to school then I head over to work, and once I'm off, he gets me off. That doesn't really leave anytime for me to lurk around my blogging spot in hopes of seeing 'That Guy.' Who I'm completely over by the way. I pretty much just realized how big of a tool he was and something just clicked. (HE WAS A COMPLETE WASTE OF TIME)
My new beau and I have been hanging out everyday for the past week. Which is going to make moving back to Portland somewhat difficult. I finally found a guy that didn't get back together with his ex WIFE the day after we sealed the deal and who also refuses to let me pay for anything. Tall, pale, extremely creepy and old. I may have just scored me a keeper. Oddly enough the same thing happened to me in Portland before I moved to Pismo. A month before I moved I started hanging out with this guy Richard. He turned out to be amazing but I had already notified my job and apartment building of my plans to depart so I wasn't able to stay.
I was really hoping this wouldn't happen again. Everything seems to be falling into place for both my options. I'm finally enjoying school, I've made a few more friends and I think I might be kind of dating someone.. but my girlfriend also just sent me some money to help me move back and I just got a call from someone who said I can live in his condo for free while he lives in Texas for the next year. I really hate making decisions. I just want someone to force me to do something.
What do I do when the pros and cons of staying weigh each other out?
However, I'm thinking my biggest problem is not being able to write for shit! If you made it this far I applaud you. My writing is the pits and for this I apologize. I just need to get my groove back. Where's Stella? I've got some questions to ask that woman.
XXXO
Miranda
ALSO:
I would like for you to look closely at the picture I'm about to post..
You see that body? That's what I've been having sex with. Minus Brad Pitt's face. I think you all should be jealous now. (I suppose that's one area in which I was able to maintain my infamous 'groove.')
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