“That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”

I just noticed that Guy I Dated for a Minute has RSVP’ed “yes” to a mutual friend’s holiday party I also said “yes” to.

Whatever, fuckface — I ain’t scared.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to spend the next 3 weeks getting pretty and practicing ignoring douchebags. Because that’s what Jesus would do.

(I’ve realized recently that whole thing messed me up more than it should have. But screw it, that’s what therapy’s for. Let’s dance, Psyche.)

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Observations on trying to eat better

1. Salad is stupid. Fuck off with your leaves, salad. I’m not a goddamn giraffe.

2. Trying to solve problems without burying them in fried cheese is like trying to count to purple.

3. Jesus turned water into wine because even HE knew water is some bullshit.

“Maybe I’ll change her mind with thinly veiled anger and insults…” 🖕🏼

When you dare ignore their first OkCupid message, sometimes men send followups.

I AM a humorless therapy-goer, but mofo ain’t sexy. Trust.

Instagram eats more dick than I do. 

I’ve had some thoughts loitering in the back of my brain about my current relationship-like experience, and its similarities to a past experience that was much worse, brain-wise.

So obviously, as further evidence of my iPhone’s forthcoming sentience, I went on Instagram and it was like, “Hey! You might know Past Experience!”

Fuck you, Instagram.

That’s OK, though — again, the beauty of getting over the much worse past experience is knowing that THIS experience, comparatively, ain’t shit.