February 2012
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Walk of ... oh hell yeah
I’m leaving the building, black stripper heels dangling from my fingers because nope, definitely not walking back to my apartment in those. Very conscious that I am wearing last night’s clothes, I keep my head up and smile because well, damn straight. My bare feet grip every crack in the sidewalk, probably pick up every piece of dirt along the way. And I spot this girl just a few yards...
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Oh sup, Taylor Kitsch. Can we just talk about his biceps? Rewatching “Friday Night Lights” needs to happen … now. (Photo via heylaney)
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Fuck. Goddamn.
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Cure-all for everything: working out stripped down to shorts and a sports bra, blasting the best music, and dance partying in your room.
Just sayin.
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I just need to stay contained. I can do this. Probably.
On another note: House music in my Beats. That New Favorite Song, as Ryan O’Connell so perfectly puts it. I’ve got close to ten of those circulating on my iPod. Obsessed. Graham crackers. Nike shorts the color of a neon safety vest, with “JUST DO IT” emblazoned on my ass. A week without midterms (let’s not...
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Dude, my talking to you about hip hop and rap music — excitedly, in depth, in excessive detail — is basically the same as exposing a little bit of myself to you.
Just a little bit. Just so you know. As in, I want to talk to you about this. And I get amped about tracks that mean something to me, and I want to share them with you. And my explanations about how amazing this or that verse is,...
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Oh hello, Friday of week 4.
Work. Java midterm. Lots of coffee. Trying to not die while disobeying traffic laws in Beverly Hills. Interning. Trying to not be mean to boys who text me. Also trying not think about said human beings. Coming back to campus, also known as you are invited to the dance party in my earphones. Pounding out at least a couple miles. Bake cupcakes. Shower. Frosting. Oh boy. One of my loves’...
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Sometimes I just don’t know how to function as a human being.
Me: It’s like being an alien child. Alan: No BUT REALLY YOU ARE.