“You know where I wanna go? I haven’t been to the city in forever!” = Take me on a fucking date to the city.
“I’m exhausted, Starbucks sounds so good right now…” = It would be awesome if you could get off your lazy ass and pick us up some.
“I barely have any money left… shoot!” = Stop being so…
I just love how family time at dinner constitutes as
- Eating on the couch
- In front of the TV
- Watching Big Bang Theory, Food Network, Travel Channel
- Not talking
And I’m not sure if I’m actually serious about this statement either or being sarcastic.
I want to go eat some bacon and eggs for breakfast <3
But my dad told me I was too fat and that was the reason why I needed to go shopping to get new dresses for London since I couldn’t fit the old ones I had.
1. the dresses I have are from like 2-3 years ago. I have one that ends right at my butt which I might have to actually wear this Saturday. The others I can FIT into them like I can zip them up, but they never really fit me in the first place properly and were big in some areas. NOT TOO SMALL. BIG.
2. All of these dresses are inappropriate for London’s conservative standards. “Remember you are representing Mission San Jose High School, please dress appropriately”
3. I hadn’t realized I had gained weight. Being the same weight as I had been for 3 years now.
When he leaves, I’m making ALL THE BACON AND EGGS.
I am literally being mindraped by this concept of castes which is actually pretty straightforward, but it’s 1 in the morning and these words and looking more painful one after another.
Social mobility? Individualism? Encompassing all is the rival and yet castes encompass all individuals into one status of the social ladder and creates a web in which everyone is intertwined and yet still distinct and separate?
Maybe this is how others felt when we were reading Joy Luck Club. I know this is how most of us felt reading A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich.
It would be really cool if it was summer again and I was still on the Carnival cruise I stayed on for a week.
Trying to stray away from cliche nostalgic post but failing, being on the ship was like being in a timeless zone. It was one place, and it didn’t really matter what time it was, anyone could be doing anything and everything. It almost feels like a dream looking back on it, where I can’t distinguish whether it was even real or not.
But after I stepped off that ship, life came back pretty fast to smack me in the face with a speed that is similar to the situation of jogging on a treadmill when the speed that is set is for sprinting. To go back to that one week at sea apart from the rest of the world and forget everything, well it doesn’t seem so bad at this point.
I hate it when you do something wrong and someone just doesn’t stop giving you shit about it. I mean really, I’m already beating myself up about it and tearing myself apart each minute I think about it. Hell, it takes over so bad that I’m shaking. But then someone comes along and acts like I don’t even realize what I did wrong, and makes everything worse. Does it ever occur to you that the problem is already killing me without you making me feel worse?
