I forgot how good this perfume smells.

Costco has surprisingly good lasagna.

I’ll publish a book or something.

Woke breaking point. Yep.

Well. Nobody said you had to stick around, I guess.

Way to go Paula Zahn. Sheesh.

It’s not apart. It’s a part. They’ve already kept you apart. You want to be a part. Come on.

Die, fly. Die.

Don’t be the weak girl.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if we were able to provide a blueprint for everyone else on how to stand up and let the classical liberal values of reason, universality, respect for the individual and fairness retake control of communities? What about modeling civil dialogue across difference?” — THIS is what I have been trying to do on campus. THIS is what I’m dedicated to.

I only even look at the New York Times because we have free access to it through work. And once a month or so, they actually post something that I have interest in – usually death work related. Mostly, though, it’s a joke of a publication.

There never seems to be any shortage of stupid.

ARGH. I ordered the wrong gorram notebook.

I have no experience cold mailing a resume. Weirdness.

Uh oh. I’ve escalated to letter writing. There’s a skill you definitely lose if you don’t use it.

“Human flesh simulant.” I read the funnest stuff.

WordPress doesn’t think simulant is a word.

Please don’t eat the ballistic gelatin.

I only have so much room. On my walls. On my shelves. On my floors. Only so much room.

I wish I had bought more of these shorts when I came across them at Target that one time. They’re probably my favorite.

My problem is that I don’t have enough interest in any one thing to do it for the entire rest of my life. At least not so far.

I wish I felt wanted or welcome there.

I can’t find that picture of Max Brooks and me right now.

There’s Thomas Lynch signing my book though.

You take the Red line to get to the space dinos and their pet fish.

Must have been 2008. 2008 is not on this drive. Everything prior to 2009 is on CD/DVD.

“Jackson Pollock couldn’t diagram that last sentence.”

No, not that sentence.

I wish I could French braid my hair.

I wish people still wrote letters.

I wish Dana Stabenow had continued the Liam Campbell series beyond four books. I thought there were three. I guess at the time I originally read them, the fourth wasn’t out. I don’t recall ever seeing it. Oh well. At least on this reread I get a bonus. Nice!

This year may as well not even exist except as some form of cosmic punishment. I haven’t figured out what for yet.

Swimming with my boots on and we’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow.

Curiously focused on this shit today.

NOT looking forward to the staff meeting at all.

I have just realized that I have not regularly worn shoes in months. How strange.

How do you expect elementary aged school children to maintain these ridiculous guidelines? This is insane. In.Sane.

How have I not made a Chris Isaak playlist? What is wrong with me?