HOLY CRAP, YOU GUYS

(On one hand)

I AM ABOUT TO QUIT MY JOB… THIS THURSDAY!!!

freakyfriday

I GO ON VACATION NEXT WEEK!!!

lucille-bluth-flail

I WILL BE UNEMPLOYED FOR ALMOST AN ENTIRE MONTH!!!!

troy

I’M MOVING TO AUSTIN IN 45 DAYS!!!!

jumanji

I am SO ridiculously excited! I have prepped for three different graduate programs and never gotten as far as actually going. I’m getting rid of most of my possessions and moving and going to live in a new place and that is so incredibly cool. I’m thrilled to quit my job, not work, vacation, travel around, and pack for the next month.

On the other hand… This is me whenever I think about actually leaving.

kp

And saying goodbye to the people I love (even though it’s temporary).

sad cry

It’s ridiculously bittersweet. I keep feeling like I’m dreaming, you know? Like, there is no way the plans I have for next month are actually about to happen to me, rather, they must be happening to someone else. Or maybe I died? Like, awhile ago? And I’m just a ghost and I don’t know it? It’s a weird sensation to describe.

Thursday, I quit my job.
Friday, I move back into my parent’s house
Sunday, I go on vacation.
Tuesday after, I go meet my boyfriend’s family.

August 20, I land in Austin.

aaah2

braindead; batdead

Hey, what’s up?
I’ve been struggling with anything to say since I took the GRE. I’ve been kind of brain dead, fried, busier at work, and basically kind of just focused on stupid things, like the idea of a cute Batman.

blush bat

No, not like how dreamy Christian Bale is, or how totally adorbs Adam West was in his prime. No, like, CUTE BATMAN.

Like, what if Batman became Batman not because he fell into a pit and was terrified by bats, but because he thought they were sweet and adorable and misunderstood?

What if Batman was a misunderstood orphan boy who wore footie pajamas and ate fruit and saved bats that needed to be nursed back to health?

I mean, LOOK AT THAT FACE.

Cute batman in a fleece sweater, running around at night, looking for bats with broken wings.

Busy Baby Bat Clinic was barometer for bad weather in Queensland, Brisbane, Australia - 18 Dec 2010

Cute batman, educating the world about how freakin’ adorable bats can be.

bat4

bat2Hog Nosed Bat

TL;DR: I am braindead and bats are cute.

selfies in the dark

Basically all I have been doing the past two weeks have been cleaning and re-arranging my new studio, studying for the GRE, and rocking back and forth while sobbing. Except ignore that last point. That point definitely is a lie. Who even said that?!

General disclaimer: this is the stupidest and also most image-heavy post.
I MEAN, UH, I know y’all are just dying to see photos of my new apartment, so here you go, I will take you on a tour.

Let’s start in the most important room:

The bathroom

Wow. Isn’t it just amazing? There are my scarves on the outside line of the door and you can see my really trendy shower curtain. Yeah, it’s currently for sale at Target for like $20. But I got it at Goodwill for $3. Yeah. I am the coolest.

Also it’s a metro map of London so if you are ever lost in London just call me and I’ll get in the shower and help you figure out where you need to go. I know, I know, I’m so giving.

Check this out:

Yeah dudes! I have a lot of hair flowers. I don’t really know why, actually. I don’t wear them that often. But they are pretty cool. I feel fancy when I wear them. This is how I store them. It kind of reminds me of those flower garlands they put on horses after they win races, you know? Like, that horse doesn’t have any idea he won that race until they put that big flower garland around his neck… and then he knows he is king of the horses.
Oh, also, that’s right across from my toilet. I didn’t take a photo of it, I figure, you’ve seen at least one in your lifetime.

I did have to stand on my tiptoes to get a good photo of that garland though. I did that for you. Continue reading

future dogs

Hi, I love dogs. I always have. I’m not sure why.

OH WAIT NO, I TOTALLY DO KNOW WHY.

It’s because they are hilarious.

Stupid.

Silly.

Cool.

And by personality, they typically love you.

I have spent most of my childhood and adult life daydreaming about the dogs I am going to own and what I am going to name them. Now, I know, I know, once you are presented with a living, breathing animal, names and intentions and personalities tend to throw all expectations out the window. But seriously, a girl can dream, right?


(photo by Chris Mallon)

If I ever bring home a Great Pyrenees, I’m naming him Aslan.
Or, possibly, a variation of ‘Tiny’.


(photo by boushh2187)

If I ever bring home some Mastiffs, I’m naming them Romeo and Juliet, because why not and also LOOK AT THOSE FACES OMG.


(photo by 5of7)

If I ever bring home a Great Dane, he’s being named Ferdinand (as in Ferdinand the Bull).

My list of dogs and names can go on and on and on and on, but the most important one to me, is my future pal:


(photo by Rayya the Vet)

Y’all, I really love Bull Terriers. I love their cocked ears and giant noses and silly eyes. I dearly await one day having a white-furred bully buddy of my own. My favorite name for a bull terrier is probably Gus-Gus. So cute! We would go on walks and he’d dig in the dirt and I’d constantly have to pull white hairs off of all of my black clothes, but man, someday, I will, and it will be great.

idiosyncrasies

If I am alone and there is a spider, I freak out: flailing, shrieking, heart poundingly terrified of a 3 millimeter by 3 millimeter, 8-legged arachnid.

If someone else is in the room first, and they see a spider, and freaks out before I do, I have zero problems with taking care of it- squishing it or setting it free (depending on it’s crimes).

It’s like, as long as someone freaks out about something first, I am somehow then released to respond to a situation without emotion. Until that release happens though, I am just as paralyzed and helpless as anyone else.

This doesn’t make any sense to me.

bang bang

I’m a little jealous of lifestyle bloggers who have a live-in photographer.

Or those who somehow manage to take adorable cute full body photos of themselves every week, guaranteed. In the meantime, I take stereotypical selfies.

I’m growing out my bangs. Dudes don’t really get this concept. Do they? Do you? The battle of letting your hair grow long and short and cutting and trimming is a never ending saga for most of us. It’s a huge part of the feminine personality. Looks are pretty important, I guess!


See also: I’m trying out purple eyeshadow today and you totally can’t tell.

But yeah, I’m growing out my bangs. Deciding to Grow Them Out is a pretty big decision. Over the past two weeks I have alternated between staring at my forehead, staring at the ratio between my eyebrows and hairline as if I could alter it somehow, and sweeping my hair back and forth in various lengths to determine how I would look with, without, with shorter or longer or spikier bangs. It’s also prompted me to vicariously look through pages and pages of google image searches trying to decide if I like the haircut or the color of the hair. It’s rough!

Life is so hard, you guys. Especially when your hair is always in your face.