Saturday, January 5, 2013

The Pilot



Me

“Hey, I’m totally gonna blog on my Friday night and put up all these pics and links and just kill it on the social media scene”, UM RIGHT.

Reality

So, what website do I choose? What template do I choose? What fucking layout do I choose?! It’s extremely overwhelming. I haven’t even gotten to fonts yet. And now here I am sitting in Starbucks like I’m fucking Carrie Bradshaw or something. Well my website might look like shit right now but deal, it’s a work in progress; like the rest of my life.

                  So I told a couple of people that I was going to start a blog and the first thing they asked was, “about what?” Well, I have no fucking clue. To be honest, I just need an outlet to complain. I thought that Twitter might be a good place for that but then I lost 15 followers and thought I should probably change my direction. Okay, I’m being negative. Maybe it’s because the bitch next to me is complaining (screaming into her BlackBerry [its 2013, get a damn iPhone]) that her boyfriend didn’t call her to say “good night” last night. News flash – guys don’t call and guys don’t give a shit. Okay, next….

Me

                  “I’m going to blog about eating healthy, cooking, bargain shopping, relationships, and have a section that has an on-going story that I’ve been working on in my head since college - I’ll write a chapter a week.”

Reality

Who the fuck do I think I am? I haven't lost a pound in over 4 months; the last thing I cooked was chili... four weeks ago. I do know how to bargain shop though, this one is actually true. I'm decent with relationships, my boyfriend of five years might have a different opinion but I still got him hooked, right? (I pray for him every day) I have the best girlfriends in the world and they're all nuts, like me. I'll probably toss them, and their lives, in here and there.
                                   
                  I do not know the first thing about writing a story. I am probably a shit writer. All I know is that Nora Roberts is fucking gold. Her shit is my jam; love, drama, sex, and a guaranteed happy ending. No pun intended. Okay maybe a little.  Nicholas Sparks too – I read his shit and just want to cry and get laid. He really knows how the woman mind works.




So, if you’d like to join me in laughing at myself and life, as we should all learn to do, I’d be honored. Now go get drunk. Byyyeeeeeeee.


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