I am planning an official blog/website to showcase all my best writings and designs and everything. This will probably take a while to get off the ground, but whatever.
It will include content that falls into the following categories:
- Thoughts and discourse about body image/fat politics, mental illness, health, advertising, visual culture, defining fitness, etc etc.
- Art and design work that is freelance or not professionally related
- Sketches, playing with words, the usual shit I enjoy, but more focused and in the context of something that is intended to make an actual point
- Crafts and things I like to make
- Fashions I wear and things I like to buy
- Beauty therapy (nail painting, self care, hair care, make-up tutorials)
- My friends, my life, my family, my love
- Other things that will be defined at some point that I can’t recall right now
I need to start sketching out some ideas for my personal brand, but I am impatient and struggling with what to name this. Should I keep my actual name in the blog title? Should I go with something brand new? I don’t know?
Okay so all I can think about is going home and lying in bed and watching something beautiful while painting my nails. Thank god the day is almost out and I’ve got all my work done.
I kind of want to see Gatsby again. Or just any film that is visually stunning to an absurd degree.
Sometimes I will write some copy for marketing tactics because I’m tired of waiting for a copywriter to get at me, and whenever I do my director is always like “where did this come from” and I’m like “my brain” and they’re always shocked. Yes, I CAN write sometimes - BUT NOT ALL THE TIME.
Oh hey now I have to make a ton of changes to these banner ads by end of day, poop poop.
I don’t know, I was curious.
That time I bought whatever apples were on sale and looked forward to eating the hell out of them, except they were mealy and tasted of disgusting butt. I’ve been spoiled by my organic fruit deliveries.
Oh and ummm so I know fast food chains come out with “wraps” and “flatbreads” as a way to be like “we are tricking you into thinking we’re ‘healthy’ and you’re falling for it” but I don’t really care about that at all, so can I just say that the new honey mustard smoky flatbread chicken thing at Wendy’s is actually kind of really delicious and satisfying? Hot damn.
I should have grabbed a frosty.
Srsly.
Best feeling.
Hahaha my laugh >_>
And ace of base..?
I could just sit here in weird positions, scratching and picking at my skull, all night long. Twirling hair, braiding strands, self-soothing until I slump over and drift off into dreams I never remember, though I feel them, and I know how deep they go.
Steve taught me to play the “c” cord on the ukulele tonight and I strummed it in a rhythm and they sang something I can’t remember but I forgot what it was like to play an instrument. The therapeutic process, the stroking and zoning, the way it makes me feel like I can accomplish something just for myself and no one else.
In short: tonight was fabulous, I love my friends, I need more ways to occupy my hands, and I’m about to spend the rest of my night looking for a cheap ukulele.
I’m exhausted and running on very little sleep but my stomach is being really weird and I can’t stop picking the stupid scabs on my chin/ears/forehead/scalp. And I have an intersectionality symposium to go to tomorrow that I’ve been looking forward to that requires waking at an ungodly hour for a Saturday (aka: anytime before 10) so it’d be cool if I could sleep now plz.
I wiggle-jumped around for a while to “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” and stretched it out with some mindful breathing though, so that was really nice.
Watched Bachelorette (Rebel Wilson and Kirsten Drunkst and Adam Scott and Lizzy Caplan and other pretty decent randoms) earlier. I can’t decide if I loved it more than I hated it, or if the fat-shaming bullshit and back-stabby pettiness just really got on my tits.
These are things.
My loving sister.
CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE I’M SEEING THIS BITCH PERFORM IN DETROIT TONIGHT
AND JINKZ IS COMING NEXT MONTH
UGH UGH GUH WHAT AM I EVEN GOING TO WEAR I CAN’T DECIDE
LOOK AT THIS BABY
SHE LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE MY SISTER
I CAN NOT HANDLE THIS
One glass of whiskey and my head is in a vice. At least it was deliciously worth it.
All I can think about over and over is: we’re in limbo. Just be patient. This is the worst of it. He’ll be here soon. Repeat.
Sleep sounds nice but also boring.






