In Which I Simotaneously Adore and Abhor Popular Music/Culture

That's all I'm going to say about that.

Watching the VMAs I missed two days ago. I love Nicki Minaj, but she looks like a chic hoodrat Gaga.

Wrap your mind around that shit.

I got green contact lenses. My hair up until last week was blonde. Now its reddish blonde. Part of me feels guilty as hell for buying into this eurocentric beauty myth. Part of me loves the way I look with green eyes. I'm wearing them to North Coast and Heather's wedding. I might pick up some hazel ones before I go. Its also kind of upsetting that it takes me adopting features that don't come to me naturally for me to start liking the way I look. That and a haircut.

Issues, party of one? Follow me, your table is ready.

Did I mention I'm going? I'm going. 26 is gunning for me. We have an apartment. I have a job interview friday. We might get a cat. My mother has explicity disapproved of me moving in with Matt. I have explicitly lied. I'm excited now. And scared. And ready to scour the south side for someone who won't fuck my hair up.

I have to pee.

I love you. And you. And you too, the geek in the back with the highwater pants.