I’m a relatively high-strung person. It’s not like I’m constantly bouncing off the walls or talking a mile a minute, but I do have some decidedly impatient quirks. Sit with me for more than five minutes and my constant leg tapping will probably drive you insane. Better yet, make me sit with my back to the door at a restaurant or coffee shop. Then watch as I spend the next hour in agony, awkwardly turning my head every three minutes to check the entrance. (more…)
I need to be nicer to myself.
That’s what my friend said this morning. We’d been having an animated Facebook chat about our mutually ridiculous lives, and then, after one especially self-deprecating tirade, she stopped herself short and said, “Well no, I need to be nicer to myself.”
Amen sister. Amen. (more…)
I know. It’s embarrassing. If there’s any music I can’t stand more, it’s sanctimonious sugary girl pop.
And yet, T-Swizzle gets me every time. How? I have no idea. The girl sings about scarves and plaid shirts. Every song is dripping with affectation and artifice. It’s horrible.
And I love it. (more…)