Dear Joe...

Im writing todays post from the little refugee camp I've built for myself on my boyfriends bed. Using a shitty lap top, while my brand new computer sits at home untouched. Staring at pictures of his family and his clothes and his life, as my living room goes unlived in. Untouched. My life, seemingly frozen in time. Drinking Miller Lite, and eating a Veggie Burger. To watch my weight of course, which is escalating at dangerous levels. Like an obese woman ordering a Big Mac with a Diet Coke. I play these little mind games with myself. I used to get so much confidence from my work. Negotiating deals. Traveling. Meetings. Even when I had a bad day, and I would bitch, and go home and drink wine and lay on my couch, I still felt proud. Now I just lay on the couch and drink wine. The pride I get now comes from cooking a good dinner. Having good sex. Keeping a clean house. Spending hours and hours, doing my hair, make-up, buying new clothes. Just so I can trick myself into believing I'...

"Don't it always seem to go That you don't know what you've got ‘Til it's gone" - Joni Mitchell: Big Yellow Taxi "But I’ve been drinking so much That I’ma call her anyway and say “F-ck that nigga that you love so bad I know you still think about the times we had” - Drake: Marvin's Room So you've made it. Survived a horrible breakup. Fought your way through countless nights of vodka and tears, only to wake up and wash it down with greasy egg sandwiches and advil the next morning. Deep club mixes provide the soundtrack to your life. Empty flirtations and expensive cab rides of regret. You got over it. Made your girlfriends go out on endless "girl power" trips. Began dating again. Date after date after date. Always some fancy place, with some guy in a suit, talking about his careers and goals. You sitting there, figiting with your dress, trying to remember if you left your curling iron on before you left the house. You then vow...

"Pandora had a jar which she was not to open under any circumstance. Impelled by her natural curiosity, Pandora opened the jar, and all evil contained escaped and spread over the earth. She hastened to close the lid, but the whole contents of the jar had escaped, except for one thing which lay at the bottom, and that was Hope. " "What is done cannot be undone." Macbeth: Shakespeare Since the beginning of time, women have gotten a bad rap. From Adam blaming Eve for "forcing" him to bite the apple, to Pandora being blamed for all of the evil in the world, women have constantly been taking the rap for "the downfall of man." Me, being a total expert at spinning issues like a Fox News anchor, would like to pose the question: Who is more at fault? The men who create the evil, or the women who expose it? In 2011 the struggle continues. Pandora's box still exists, only now it is in the form of a handheld electrical device made by some ass...

July 4th, 2011. Independence Day. So America was all “fuck the British, we wanna do our own shit.” And they had wars and slavery and diseases and corruption and a pretty fucked up 200 or so years. So Christina was all “fuck men get money, I wanna do my own shit.” And she had evictions and restraining orders and illnesses and a pretty fucked up 30 years. When you’re young, everyone tells you, you can do whatever you want. That you don’t need anybody. You feel like you can take over the world. Or, if the world is already occupied, you can just steal it, and claim it as yours. (Word to the colonists) Because YOU ARE THE SHIT. You go through your life like this. This whole “the world is mine” attitude. Take no prisoners. You never need to actually “work out” relationship problems, because behind every Ciroc bottle being served in a dark club at 3am, there’s 50 new dudes waiting in line. You never actually need to “over-achieve” at work, because, shit, life is SHORT! Work hard, but player...

"I think you're perfect. I love everything about you." - C.S., June 21, 2011 I guess thats what every woman wants to hear right? And, I guess everyone's gonna go ahead and say the following things: A. How can you say you want love, and this guy is willing to love you,and you push it away, or B. He's such a nice guy, why can't you just give him a shot and try it out or C. You're getting too old to be picky. If this guy likes you then go for it. To which I reply to everyone, "lalalalala I can't hear you" while covering my ears and running away lol. See, thats the thing about attraction. Its like, 864% chemistry, and maybe 5% actual conscience decision. Do you know how many super nice guys I'm friends with? That would be the BEST fathers, BEST husbands,BEST partners in life? - 86. Do you know how many of them I could actually have sex with? -0 And it has nothing to do with physical appearance. Lord knows that's never been high on my list...

In my newly found "free time", I've begun going to the gym. Like regularly. And I must say, with my whole entire soul, I hate it. You walk in, with your little exercise gear on. iPod all ready to go with some fantastic playlist. Sneakers laced. Boobs being suffocated by the most inhumane contraption on Earth known as a "sports bra" (which, always, ALWAYS gives you uni-boob) and you just look around and shake your head. At any given minute, on any given day, you can find the following people at your local gym. I. Annie Anorexia: She weighs in as soon as she arrives. All 86 lbs of her. She goes super crazy Sonic the Hedgehodge speeds on the elliptical. To the point where you want to give her a hug, and tell her to slow down. Life will be ok. The machine didn't kill your mother. You don't have to punish it so. And then she jumps off and weighs herself again. And works out. And weighs herself again. And on and on ad nauseum. Until her, and her bony ass final...

dis⋅so⋅lu⋅tion [dis-uh-loo-shuhn] –noun 1. the act or process of resolving or dissolving into parts or elements. 2. the resulting state. 3. the undoing or breaking of a bond, tie, union, partnership, etc. There has been a lot of dissolution this year. A lot of loose ends being tied up. A lot of things ending,and the resulting states it leaves behind. You tend to reflect a lot when something tragic happens...In this case losing my job right after my 30th birthday. A double whammy. Ive been reflecting about the past year. Which of course, leads to the past few years, which in turn,becomes basically a rundown of your whole life. if you are like i am (which you're probably not, you're probably fucking normal) you overthink everything. You think about it so much that you have it figured out. Down to its very core matter. Until it looses all meaning. Like a scientist. Who can look at a flower and tell you its exact genus and species. Tell you why its red. ...