danke shame

nancy sent a post script, which my mother forwarded to me. it goes like this:

-Sorry for the scare yesterday. I'm really paranoid about my neighbor, but actually she's all right.-

then nancy shared a poem about honor, which i wont re-share since i found it dumb and kinda creepy.


anywho,
i’m slowly exhausting my dignity by way of drunk texting. i know I KNOW i resolved to get rid of that habit this year, but quitting something that sparks specific feelings such as guilt and discomfort is actually UNrewarding. let me explain: who would i be if i wasn’t so frequently embarrassed? Honestly, my best work is inspired by screwed up situations, most of which are not really THAT big of a deal, which brings me back to last night's drunk texts......

ME: piece o cake
U: haha whqt?
ME: U a prude
U: no u r
ME: pfft whatev prove it
ME: now i think it’s clear who’s the prude
U: u r
ME: u gotta d8 or what?


hmmm... not so bad. however, when i texted U “piece o cake”, that was actually the middle of our conversation. the memory on my cell phone is the equivalent to that of a sloppy drunk, ha, so i often delete the majority of my messages in order to receive new ones. i erased the first half of the chat with U in order to continue to talk to U, ergo the piece o cake. though i can’t really remember what i said, i’m not worried, as i was more sober for the first half of our drunken convo. also, as dialogue, this doesn’t illustrate how extremely frustrated i was last night. it’s obvious that i had a specific goal and perhaps i came across as desperate, but guess who doesn’t give a shit? that's right. this is good data, good substance.



i hear my neighbors doing it. nancy, i know how you feel