furious and restless

I never poop regularly.
I hate drinking water.
I have a raging boner for Adrian Brody.
Tim Riggins gives me a tingle in my pingle.
I sometimes wonder what insomnia would feel like.
I want to learn to lucid dream.
I am weirdly into yogurt parfaits.
I hate eye contact.
I want to live in the woods in coastal Oregon and write novels nobody will read.
I want a black lab more than anything the world.
I want a tattoo of my childhood pup, Amos. Also a black lab.
I was the biggest, hugest, most enormous Weezer fan evarrrrr in middle school. I lost interest many moons ago, but sometimes I kind of miss that fangirl.
I secretly still want to name my kid Rivers someday.
I don’t believe in God or heaven, but sometimes I hope there’s some sort of afterlife so I can party with Freddie Mercury, John Lennon, John Denver, Jimi Hendrix, and George Harrison.
I dream about living in New York at least once a week.
I had a recurring nightmare as a kid about a headless Macaulay Culkin getting stabbed in the eye.
I want to get my nose pierced.
I have an insatiable appetite for high school television dramas–think Gossip Girl, Friday Night Lights, Glee, etc. I often chalk this up to my unresolved high school trauma issues. Should I see a therapist? Or just keep binge watching 90210?
I haven’t read a book I absolutely loved in a horribly long time. What’s the deal? Everything is so mediocre lately.
Sometimes I think about dropping everything and just going to nail school. At least then I could get discounts on gel polish.
I hate Dave Matthews Band and U2 more than I can even begin to fathom and/or describe.
I don’t want kids.
I wish mirrors didn’t exist.
I want to write a series of children’s books about my cats with morals about acceptance and the importance of taking naps.

That’s all.

Also, side note–is anyone still reading this? Just curious. Also, are you using Bloglovin or another reader to view it? Are the photos not working? Because they weren’t working for me when I viewed in on my iPad. JUST WONDERING, GUYS!

PS–more San Diego pics. We went to the beach and a Padres game. S’fun.









insert grandma emoji here

Rose Runs Wild wrote a post the other day that resonated with me because it’s something I’ve been delving into quite heavily these days. Self acceptance. Duh…you’re probably thinking, “HEY AMY! You always talk about self-acceptance. Get real.” But I’m talking more than just body love…I’ve been thinking a lot about who the hell I am now that I’m 27 and older and crabbier. Like the time when I saw a group of teenagers at a show and thought “GET OUT OF HERE YOU ARE TOO SMALL AND EXUBERANT!” I was totally that old guy in the neighborhood that sprays little kids for stepping on his lawn. But…maybe these new traits that surprise me lately are just the reality. A new reality. I’ve been trying to identify these, and Nicole’s post inspired me to document them.

I hate cooking. I will never like cooking. You will never convince me to like it.

I hate grocery shopping even more than cooking. Causal relationship.

I’d take a night in with the cats and America’s Next Top Model over a night out any day of the week.

I’ll always be anxious taking phone calls.

I hate wearing heels. I tried. I really tried. But they’re bullshit.

I love Pokemon. Deal with it.

I look forward to my weekend mornings with toast, coffee, and more trashy TV.

The first thing I do when I get home from work is take off my pants. I HATE PANTS SO MUCH.

I’m confused by Snapchat and YouTube. I also had to google “ratchet” and what it means to be “basic.”

I struggle with my image/weight/appearance every single day, even after being in recovery for 8 years. It’s frustrating to be 27 and still crying over this shit every day. This talk helps. I watch it often.

No matter how hard I try, I will never, ever, ever like exercise. Or fitness. I will never feel normal about it after anorexia. I will always be triggered by it. And sometimes I’ll come off as rude for protecting myself from it, but it’s what I have to do. So, this little exercise/fitness barrier I’ve built–it’s effective. I will exercise for heart health and mental health, but I will never believe it is a virtue.

Self-love is important. So important that I want to make it my life’s crusade. Someday I’ll figure out how to turn that into a profession.

I love mixing Life cereal with Apple Jacks. No shame.

I legitimately love Miley Cyrus. Also no shame. I used to be the world’s largest music snob until Christopher woke me up and made me realize the hidden merits of pop music. Life’s a lot easier once you start giving in to catchy shit that makes you feel good.

I will most likely never sleep in again. I couldn’t if I wanted to.

I have no patience, and I am not a perfectionist. That’s why I’ll never do another puzzle ever again.

There’s a little list. I’m still working on fully accepting some of them, but it’s good to think about it. Now, some pics from San Diego for good measure. Happy Monday.














california is sandy

I took a trip with Mitchell’s fambly recently to San Diego where the sun never stops shining and I seriously question my abilities to handle heat in any form. I think San Diego knew I was coming and arranged a freak heat wave personally for my arrival. Whether it did this out of spite or plain hijinx remains to be determined.

Three things I learned about myself on this trip:

1. Yep. I still hate the sun. I will always hate the sun. You will never talk me out of hating the sun.

2. I will go to great lengths for a diet coke. Additionally, I will pay $11 for a panda souvenir cup full of diet coke when I’m hot, hungry, and stressed about not seeing the pandas in time. I just really love pandas.

3. Five Guys is not nearly as good without fry sauce. In fact, I don’t know how any of you other states survive without it. Listen up, America. FRY SAUCE. You are missing out on condiment capitalization opportunities. More importantly, you are depriving yourselves. Get over it and give in to ketchup + mayo.