Bill's roommate smelled the Yves Saint Laurent "Baby Doll" I had on and said it made me smell like a stripper. I would have imagined they smell more like, I dunno... watermelon Jolly Ranchers or vanilla lotion, WTF. Guess I should go back to the Burberry or the Marc Jacobs.

My trainer at the gym has nice teeth. I gained 4lbs but all my clothes are getting too big. Huh? I can thank his sadistic routine for my ass getting way more awesome.

I miss SF. I miss the faces I used to see every day. I don't miss being broke though. 

Best of Craigslist is so. Good. The super mario post was a CLASSIC, classic I tell you. "Do you love to play Super Mario Brothers? Do you like to get tagged from behind while you do it?" Just read it. So good.

However, I find this excerpt of another post interesting:

Quit waiting for someone to make all the decisions. don't you understand that by doing that you are asking to be violated? that's why you had that asshole man you had. because he would take it all and you didn't have to say a word, a promise, never had to voice a single desire. It keeps you safe. Safe, alone, and untouched, free to judge the world without any experience in it. You think that makes you objective.

Apparently I'm not the only retard in the world.

Off to bed I go. Not to sleep, no... to lay there and inevitably remember why I avoid going to sleep in the first place. To contemplate the vast difference between the questions I've been asked, the things I've been told, and the actions that have followed. Words are far too easy to fall for. To be thankful I did it for Long Beach, that I am a functional human, that I didn't get married at 19, that I am alive and breathing and that a picture of what I want out of life is becoming clearer every day. To remember what my life was like this time last year and wonder, "why... the... fuck...?!" until I get bored of texting people and staring at the ceiling. Maybe then, by default of boredom, I will win.