My cousin set up an OK CUPID account for me so that I could ‘get more free dinners, this is LA, idiot!!’.
I edited out all her positive declarations of life and put my own responses.
I may not be doing this right.
Not enough adjectives to describe how much I love this piece.
Elissa Wald, Night Shifts
EVERYONE HAS TO WATCH THIS RIGHT NOW. EVERYONE.
I swear to God, I laughed so hard my chest hurts.
I LOVE DAX SHEPARD AND I AM NOT ASHAMED.
(Source: oh-rebecca)
We snuck in, tiptoed around the moon, took pictures, smiled in mirrors, and had ourselves a lovely time. (Taken with instagram)
Sunset at the Griffith Observatory. LA is so beautiful sometimes. (Taken with instagram)
My Friend Lauren Started a Blog About Her Melanoma Battle–Read!
Yeah. And the atomic bomb was “just a bomb”.
I’m not here to give melanoma a bad rep or make cancer any worse than it can be. I’m here to humanize it. Give it a face. A name. (Un)fortunately I have the priveldge of doing so.
I’m Lauren. I’m 29 and I’ve had melanoma twice in 2 years. Both times…
How To Look Cool At A Coffee Shop–Hollywood Edition
1) Sit down in the chair really aggressively and roll up your sleeves like you’re about to actual work instead of type words on your dainty white computer.
2) Furrow your brow.
3) Sigh audibly.
4) Order a coffee and pronounce espresso properly. There’s no x. There’s no x.
5) Look up the TV on the wall in disgust and say “I don’t have a TV.” Sigh at the blender noise even though they’re making the most delicious smoothies ever.
6) Check your phone and pretend it’s important when really, you’re just checking in on 4Square.
7) Type furiously into Text Edit. It should read like this: aklsjfkal;sdfj;askjfaks;dfja;sldjfa;lskdfj
8) Cut a Ritalin in half with your coffee straw.
9) Snort it off the table, wipe your nose, look at the other pasty, failing patrons and say “Look who’s writing now, motherfucker.”
10) And finally, leave, because you’ve been asked to.
tuesday night!
i left the party in a cab because i still do not have a car.
i said los feliz, the driver said he knew because i had given the lady on the phone my address and then i made him go back to the party because i forgot something and well,
i was flustered and short on cash (just the tip), so i gave him a brownie with sea salt and he said thank you and put chris brown on really loud when i tried to singalong.
i googled flights home in the back seat. i tried to think of ways to live everywhere.
i got home but didn’t sleep.
i remembered why. prednisone!
i feel okay even though i am not completely okay
but i have decided to stop talking about that for a little while, because i think it overwhelms people
and i’m in a new city and i am not in the business of isolating.
plus, like i said, it’s all okay.
because i like my neighborhood, and new music,
and the sunny fire escape right out my window.
and i know tomorrow’s going to be a really nice day.
I think Tumblr will be pleased to know I have a cat now. Well, actually, 3. But I only like this one.
Her name is Sophia and she just ran full speed across my room and into the closed fire escape window.
She’s absolutely fine but boy, that’d be a good YouTube video.
Conversations with my now FOUR year old f'niece
- Emma: Okay now we are going to play Mommy, Emma, and baby. ALLIE, YOU HAVE TO BE THE BABY. (Allie, 20 months old, continues to play with the teacup.)
- Me: Okay. So who am I?
- Emma: YOU ARE ME.
- Me: Okay. Hi, I'm--
- Emma: NOOO, my turn. Hi my name is Emma's Mommy and I like to take so many pictures and I love to Facetime and I know Kelly.
- Me: Hi, I'm Emma, my best friend is Kelly and I want to be the Beast next time--
- (Emma puts her hand up)
- Me: But this means I finally get to be the princess.
- Emma: NO!! I AM ALWAYS THE PRINCESS.
I read this in 12 hours and I would have read it quicker if I hadn’t stopped to write some things down and google Conor Clapton and eat etc…
A lot of people told me to read this book, that I reminded them of Hazel, blah blah. I usually ignore book recommendations and that’s why I still haven’t read The Hunger Games and I KNOW I SHOULD I WILL, I PROMISE, and I’m generally an asshole-ish book snob.
But my friend Kate asked me to review the book for her site and i said, yeah, I haven’t written a lot of reviews in the past few years.
It goes without saying that reading this from the vantage point of a cancer patient (same kind as Hazel, though hers is stage IV and I tapped out at Ib or something, I forget) would be different had I read it as a normal, healthy functioning adult.
Hazel’s 15, which is a little bit older than I was when I got really sick. But this author, this John Green, he fucking nailed it.
I’ve read a ton of books about illness that have nailed it (Sarah Manguso, Joshua Cody and few others come to mind)…but this did it in my voice. I cried not only because it was beautiful but because it was so close to my own feelings about illness and how it affects your family and alienates your friends. It startled me, the accuracy.
I just can’t believe Hazel doesn’t have a Tumblr.
Anyway, lots of feelings and tears and laughs (pray to God my review will be actually written and not like this) but…
Read this fucking book.
Amateur Night of the Day: President Obama sings the sultry opening line from Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” during a campaign event tonight at the Apollo Theatre.
Green, who was in attendance at the historic event (the first visit to the legendary Harlem landmark by a sitting president), has yet to share his thoughts on Obama’s loving homage.
[@alex_ogle.]
He’s… He’s just better. He’s more fun. Sure, he’s just a person and has his flaws. But he’s a better person.
I need to quit it with the crushes on married men.
In line at UCB, checking Tumblr, taking Instagram pictures of my boots, seeing I’ve been retweeted and slowly turning into a cliche.
Four years ago this month, I had this a cancerous tumor removed.
I’m different. I’ve changed. I’m 25 years old. I did not think I would live to be 25 and sometimes I worry I have not changed enough.
But I know this: we must remember how fucking lucky we are to be alive.
Remember to enjoy every cliched thing you think you’re too snarky for. Feel the ocean, inhale freshly cut grass, get blackout drunk in Vegas (that’s one you guys can do), say I love you just because.
Illness can crush you. Life can crush you.
But we are lucky to be alive.
It’s All Fiction, Really.
I cannot remember the exact moment you changed. It was a collection of instants so dense that they became years and that purple stain on your lips became permanent, the color something we anticipated, knew, and hated.
I can remember that first moment moment I disappointed you because I could not keep my mouth shut. And those arguments have outnumbered the marks in the basement that measured our growth as children.
Before I left, you said again that I was cold, and mean, and hard. Without feeling.
I am cold, but not unforgiving. Yes, it’s hard for me to look you in the eye. But I am full of feeling, and if there were none, I would not still be here.
I still want to scream at you on a freezing cold beach and dunk your head in the frigid ocean. I want you to see and believe that I would do anything for this to stop. I would take that trip with you, I would find that road back, but you…you refuse to do so, and so I am here, knowing I have lost the most fundamental relationship one can have.
I turn 26 next month and I am 3,000 miles away and they say… they say I must move on. I will, but I am still wishing you will turn around and come back to us.
I still need you.
