fuck that shit.

sometimes people say things to me regarding myself that make me wonder which of the following scenarios is occuring 1) people are intrepreting me all wrong or 2) i am severely lacking in self-awareness. because people make declarations about me that sort of baffle me, like once a stranger in an elevator told me i "seem like a really happy person" at a point when this was definitely not applicable. more recent cases have been "i thought you were a hardcore emo chick" (um, what?) or today's, "you put on your stripper boots!" (for the record, they are black, non-patent, flat, below the knee boots. and while i occasionally may dabble in sporting dresses that are perhaps dangerously close to hovering at the labia, today was not one of them.) in summary, i frequently appear to be really happy, annoyingly depressed, and kind of easy.

i recently had an epiphany where i determined that it would probably just be in my best interest to major in journalism because it's been a career-path i keep coming back to, and i sort of want to be gloria steinem. or chuck klosterman. or carrie bradshaw. but then today i met with my adviser and realized there is no way i can happily attend this school for another semester, let alone three, before transferring. this triggered a familiar freakout centering around my inability to make and execute plans for my life.

but it's cool because i know i'm going to stumble into a large sum of money soon, which i will use to buy a nice little house someplace pleasant. then i am going to have a garden and learn about things i care about and maybe go on some philanthropic adventures. i am also going to be stoned all the time again. i will have you over for dinner.