The only thing I miss about living alone is peeing with the bathroom door open.

I really like 500 Days of Summer. But reading this article I've realized I know people like this and I don't like it. People made out of weird little quirks. Sometimes I feel like this. I say stupid-clever things. Tell silly stories. It works momentarily until my ever-present sincerity shows through and then people don't like me anymore and that's just how it is.

I am impressed with my dad's aesthetic choices in tea-kettle selection.

Not hungry this morning. The idea of shoveling granola in my mouth sounds terrible. I'm even having a hard time drinking tea. This has like never happened before. What is wrong with me? Maybe I am becoming super slim supermodel.

I had a really good time tonight. Sometimes you just have a really good time.

Also, on an unrelated note (not because I don't have a good time with him, but because I didn't see him until later tonight), I really care about Danny and wish I could make him feel better right now and I just can't.

You should probably watch this video and admire the pretty diploma that is very similar to my pretty diploma.

The Knox diploma was on the Colbert Report again last night. Yesssss.


I hate Michelle Bachmann. She is embarrassing to my tattoo.

My exhaustion is causing me to be a shitty everything. Went to sleep at nine last night. Feel sort of better today. Am drinking tea. I worked almost the same hours last summer (minus Thursday nights and Saturday mornings) and somehow I had so much more time than this.

Bedtime. Tomorrow will be better.

I freaked out and my dad bought me a tea kettle.

Sometimes my entire life seems to revolve around my exhaustion. I spend all day at work thinking about how tired I am and I come home and sleep. or watch tv and think about sleeping. There is something improper about this.

I switched breakfasts because cereal was leaving me hungry in the morning and I would start to panic halfway for class and only talk about food for the next hour and a half.

Paintings hung. My room now looks like somewhere that I live.

Mary Ruefle and Mary Carr.

A Lorrie Moore novel.

Mary Carr dated David Foster Wallace. I am reading her to figure something out.

Last night while unpacking I found two Lorrie Moore stories, "How to Become a Writer," and "How to Be an Older Woman,"that I read I different parts of my life. "How to Become a Writer," I read in high school. It must have been touching enough for me to keep the handout. "How to Be an Other Woman" I read in a fiction workshop senior year. Chad Simpson handed out books at random from a stack and the book I received, "Self-Help," was seemingly perfect for me. I had a line from the book stuck in my head for months, though I did not realize it was from this story and just kept idly wondering where it came from, hoping to stumble upon it, which I did. The narrator starts making lists because the wife makes lists. This was my favorite list. A very applicable list. The bolded section is the part that was stuck in my head. My favorite part of this story is that I an not even an other woman and it still applies.

Clients To See:
1. Fallen in love (?) Out of control. Who is this? Who am I? And who is this wife with the skis and the nostrils and the Tylenol and does she have orgasms?
2, Reclaim yourself. Pieces have fluttered away.
3. Everything you do is a masochistic act. Why?
4. Don't you like yourself? Don't you deserve better than all of this?
5. Need: something to lift you from your boots and into the sky, something to make you like little things again, to whirl around the curves of your ears and muss up your hair and call you every single day.
6. A drug.
7. A man.
8. A religion.
9. A good job. Revise and send out resumes.
10. Remember what Mrs. Kloosterman told the class in second grade: Just be glad you have legs.

Number ten, I believe, is not talking about paralysis, the abilities to walk, but nice looking legs. I have nice looking legs. I am glad about it.

Things to do today:
Buy more hooks for hanging pictures.
Hang pictures.
Look for Twins shirt.
If Twins shirt not found, find time this week to buy new shirt before game on Friday.
Buy planner. Schul Planner not application to this country.
Continue work in giant GRE book that repeats that same information over and over again.
Replenish food supplies for lunch tomorrow.
Write something.

I am pretty sure Katie and I were the same teenager. 

She keeps posting all these nostalgic things and pondering stuff that I often ponder. Why the fuck didn't I like myself? I was thin (due to under-eating), had more friends than I did now, boys actually wanted to be my boyfriend, when I wanted to I got good grades in classes, but I never really tried. I was just sad and slept a lot and felt like I was going to be lonely forever. I remember being 130 pounds (I am 5'9", so 130 is very thin) and thinking I would never let myself be that heavy again and I am definitely over 130 now and I still am okay with myself and can function in the world. Sometimes though I understand. Sometimes I still feel the same way, but mostly it's better. I don't want to make this a writer thing, because it's not, it's much larger than that, but most writers I've talked to (or rather, people my age who write), went through a similar phase, considered similar things. I am being vague because the things I thought about then seem ridiculous now. 

I love Lorrie Moore. If Lorrie Moore's writing were a man, I would let it doing whatever it wanted to me. This is probably why I am never really anywhere.