My Future in a Bowl: Drawing My Next Move.

8 09 2012

If anyone has an opinion on any of these places, or advice of actually living in those places, or are interested in moving to any of (the top 4) places with me, please leave me a comment or message me.

The Places that Won.

1.) Chile

2.) Sweden

3.) Brazil

4.) Portugal

5.) Colorado

(Not sure how I feel about #5 since the whole point was moving away, but maybe I’m supposed to give it a little more time here?)


(How could I not want to move here?)

My Old-School Blog Style: Keepin’ It Real Random.

4 05 2012

Good luck to you, with this.

Today I shaved all my armpit hair off, now it’s soft like a baby’s butt–not really–I have no idea what a baby’s butt feels like, I am not perverted in that way nor am I ever around babies, but isn’t that an expression people use? Either way I have to admit that I like being hair-less under the arms. I do kind of miss my hair friends; they were like two little pets I got to play with every day. They were also good douche-bag detectors, like if a guy was creeped out by them then it meant he was probably a conservative asshole who is bad in bed and I wouldn’t want to be around him anyway. Now that doesn’t matter because I’m not sharing my bed (or any bed) with any one ever again. Okay, that was a dramatic statement. By ever again I mean all of May. Maybe even June, you fools! Imbeciles! Do I have to do everything myself! Name that movie. You can’t. Because it’s Sleeping Beauty and only little girls who have watched it 347 times understand that reference. Kind of funny that that used to be my favorite movie considering all of the misogynist undertones—like the woman can’t take care of herself and has to be “sexually” awaken by a man. Not only that, but she can’t take on the Evil Witch Dragon herself. I mean, that movie would have been so much better if Aurora had gathered up all of her woodland creature friends and together they would have gone over to Maleficent’s castle and fucked her up until she backed up off and let Aurora take over the kingdom she rightly inherited. Maleficent was always my favorite villain and then Ursula. I love their cackles. A woman can’t really get anywhere in the world without a good cackle. That was not a true statement. You know what is a true statement? Me either. I’m not going to dwell on it.

Considering where I want to dwell in the future. I think I’ve come up with a partial plan. Live here until my lease is up, go back home for a month to be with my family and then vamoose—escape somewhere not in the United States. I’m thinking a tour through Europe. Like a month in each country or longer if I find one I like. I’d like someone to go with me, preferably someone who speaks one (or more) of the following: German/Spanish/French. I’m trying to learn Spanish right now. I think six months is plenty of time to get a hang of the language if I try hard enough. My other option is to move to New Orleans. But I can move there when I get back. I just never thought I’d have the personality to travel all around, especially if I have to do it by myself, but maybe I should just suck it up and do it. I can’t wait around for a friend who just happens to want the same thing to be able to take off at the same time as me. It would be ideal. But I don’t want to be old and regret always playing it safe. Or waiting around for other people.

Speaking of other people. I’ve been contemplating the art of the wink. I’ve never been a winker, but lately I’ve started to do it. Usually I do a hard wink via Lucille in Arrested Development, just to be funny. But occasionally I’ll do the flirty wink. It takes practice. I wouldn’t recommend practicing all of the time—I know a girl who does that and it’s awkward. But it’s totally worth it. To get it right. It almost becomes instinctual. Like you say something clever—wink. You see someone cute across the room—wink. You’re at work, you’re bored, your co-worker looks at you funny—wink.

It’s such an easy way to connect and also be slightly-sexy slightly-creepy at the same time. Which is exactly how I see myself. Thus, it all works out. I am officially now a winker.

Not a wanker.

Though it is National Masturbation Month, so I guess for a month I’ll be a winker and and a wanker. Winker Wanker, could be a good band name, for like a country square dancing kind of band. I wonder if I’ll ever be in a band again. It’s not at the top of my list of things to do, but I’d totally do it. Maybe when I live in France. Or Austria. And I’ll be in like a techno metal band and just scream weird noises into an amp that makes those noises sound even weirder. We’ll see. The future is not yet clear, but I can handle the haze. And my newly smooth-as-a-baby’s-butt armpits.