Very Bad Thirty Year Old

I've spent the last three hours looking through every nook and cranny in my car and my house for the pink slip to my car and, baby, it's gone.

I just don't know how I'm thirty years old and I still do this. I have so many parking tickets. I'm so far behind on my student loans. I'm pretty far behind on my studio payments too. I think about all the things I ignore because they stress me out so much and I wish I still felt awful enough to want to die. Honestly, knowing I was like 3 steps from trying to die was a comfort, because it was a solution. Now I'm kind of even keeled and it's not an option. It just isn't, so what am I going to do.

I just texted my mom about the slip and she was very understanding, but I feel her getting less and less okay with my bullshit and I understand. I feel so bad when I think about the kids she's stuck with- two do-nothing artists with debt and excuses.

My mom deserves a better daughter. I can't believe I'm driving across the country for no fucking reason now. I wish I was taking a plane.

Why did my mom move to Missi-fucking-sippi?

And The Morning After

The Wedding Day

Kasumi

The Rehearsal Dinner

Marie and her sister look so much alike! 

Sumi and Marie being normal and then a different kind of normal

ditto (Marie's dad in the background)

My outfit, which I was really happy with, hence the extra-ass posing in the bathroom mirror

It turned out better than I thought

Okay. As usual I psyched myself out, and the dress turned out lovely and the wedding was very enjoyable. For some reason anything that takes effort and planning makes me S p IR a L the fuck out. Anyways, pictures of the dress, with pictures from the wedding to follow.

quite the fucking glow up if i do say so myself

Hideous, Hideous

I had to get fitted for a bridesmaids dress this week and it was not a horrible, but also not a pleasant experience. none of the dresses fit my horrendous boobs, and even when I found something I felt okay, even pretty in, the photos revealed a portly woman badly draped in cheap chiffon. Hardly flattering.

I got the sizes back from the stylist later, and she said for the dress I wanted the sizes were 14 in the hips, 20 in the waist, and 22 in the bust. 22! In the bust!

I'm a hideous top heavy matron! I knew it already, but now the numbers support it. I need to lose weight or I'll fucking kill myself.

Brooklyn in Bloom

We're well past maintaining.

Goodness, I'm so paralyzed with fear of failure that I fail just by not starting.

I realized recently that I can not see successful people and imagine being them one day. I see people thinking about the future and talking about savings, trips, homes, promotions, relationships and I get lost. I used to just go fuzzy and couldn't identify with those things but now they make me angry and jealous. But I see an old lady collecting cans for money, or hobbling down the street, and I see myself as that. I really just see those old ladies, in pain, poor and just straight up see the exact path leading me there. It's not a conscious choice, it simply feels inevitable.

Anyways, Marie wants her wedding invitations tomorrow, she asked me to do them two months ago and I haven't started.

My car needs a patch on the tire and a new fan belt. That's not going to happen for awhile.

Student loans? Credit card? lol

car insurance. Yeah, I should renew that. Soon.

Taxes. Same. 14 days until the deadline.

My body. I huff walking down the street now.

I fixed things once, long ago and have since been watching those things decay. I can't bring myself to action.

Monday Muckings

Something sharp in my sock. I can feel it when I lay my right foot on top of my left, poking. Things get stuck in my knits and I can never find them. I have to toss dad's sweatpants because of that, there's something sharp in the thigh and I can't find it. I've tried but it's where the fabric is wearing away because of my thunderous legs rubbing together and the whole thing is a fibrous mess. I don't want to get rid of the sweatpants, because they were dad's, but that sort of sentimentality is silly because he got them when he was already sick, it's not like I have a crazy memory of him wearing them. Just wearing them sick.

I'm waiting for chicken tikka to arrive, I've ordered it online from a place that delivers fairly quickly, all about indian. I don't want to leave the house again tonight, and it's been a minute since I've grocery shopped.

Adriene is annoying me again. She has been working hard for the last few days, which means she is acting like a goddamn teenager. Waving me away when it looks like I'm about to engage, grunting something that I only interpret as salutation because I know her. Leaving without saying a word when I got home today, looking pissed that I got home early, like she wanted to leave without anyone bumping into her. I think I would be less angry if she didn't play the goddamn radio on the weekend mornings.  She gets annoyed that I invade her space, but then she does it to me, on the only morning I get in the house. She's alone here all the time.  I guess it's more that we're annoying each other again.

Silly that eachother is not a word. I say it like "ee-CHOTH-er" and i always forget to type the space between the two words. Always getting that little red line.

Foods here. Told you it was quick.

Black/Red

Halloween

Me and Tatey back in the day. He was a little mobster for Halloween. This would have been when the Sopranos were popular, although we wouldn't have known that. They were probably just in the culture, and Tate wanted to be one. He had a little mustache drawn on earlier in the night but it looks like it was rubbed off by this point. He's got in his mouth, to my memory, an actual little nub of dad's cigar. I was obsessed with the Oregon trail and the pioneers and had helped my mom pick out a pattern and fabric so she could make me a prairie dress, apron and bonnet.  The dress was calico and the apron was muslin. They used muslin so much for so many things in the pioneer days that I always have and always will love muslin. I loved it so much, and also loved the weird monster hand trick or treat bags we had, but hated the contrasting aesthetics. 

Sing sing

 Emily and me, back in probably 2009 or 2010

Nick in the plant room, probably around 2013

Jil and Ruth at work

Snowstorm on the walk home to Whittney's

We went shuffleboarding last month for Stuart's birthday

Nicole

Sunday Morning