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Be My LuV~ Lockdown.

HAPPY FRIDAY!

Here’s a summary/agenda of what’s going down in this week’s blog post:

– Intro (hey how r u 2day/wow thnx 4 all the views last week)
– Gym locker story (copy/pasted from FB with 103 likes wow ty guys)
– Deeper reading/analysis of the gym locker story in regards to life in general (English major’s way of making every life event seemingly meaningful #symbolism)
– Closing statement/logistics for future blog posts.

Let’s get started!

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50 Shades of HaAy~

***WARNING: THIS POST IS EMBARRASSING FOR ME TO WRITE BECAUSE I DON’T LIKE PEOPLE KNOWING THINGS ABOUT ME LIKE THIS BUT I REALIZED THAT I AM AN ADULT (KIND OF) SO I CAN WRITE ABOUT THIS IF I WANT TO. I THINK. I DON’T KNOW. MAYBE THIS IS WHAT GROWING UP FEELS LIKE. PROBABLY NOT THOUGH. ALSO IF YOU’RE A PARENT/DANCE CHILD AND YOU KNOW ME AND YOU DON’T FEEL LIKE HAVING A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE OF ME AND MY LIFE, YOU CAN GLADLY SCROLL PAST THIS/CLOSE THIS TAB AND I WILL STILL BE THE LOVING SECOND DAUGHTER YOU NEVER HAD.***

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New Year, Same Me Because Bitch I’m FAbuLouS~!

 

Happy 2015!

I’ve decided to try and blog regularly on here at least once a week! I’m getting spread a little thin these days writing for a shit ton of publications that don’t pay me at all, so why not contribute to my own blog that also doesn’t pay me (my boss is a bitch, ugh)(I’m referring to myself lol cause like it’s my blog lol get it)?

With that, I’ll start with a short post that will most likely turn into a rant.

Oh also, the music is just what I was listening to right now. Feel free to press play as you read through this. Or not. I’m not your mom. Or am I.

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To the “Nice Guys” Complaining About Getting Heartbroken

One spontaneous weekend, I got coaxed into going to Vegas with my best guy friend from high school and a few of his frat bros. The drive was long and boring, and I knew as much about his friends as I could know from their Instagrams, so I decided to hit them with the question that I always ask guys when I want to dig a little deeper:

“So… tell me about your last relationship.”

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Things to Do During Your Final Term in College.

As graduation is quickly approaching, there’s no escaping that sense of urgency, the nostalgia – just all the feELz that you don’t want to catch and you’ve worked hard to ignore. “I’m so old” and “I can’t believe it’s almost over” and “I’M FINALLY GOING TO BE FREE” are the general statements I’m sure we’re all thinking about, and as much as it’ll be liberating, it’s also one of the prime times of your life that you’ll probably not get back. Ever. Ever ever. When else will you be able to binge eat and drink beer and maybe take some prescription drugs that you weren’t prescribed necessarily to stay up all night and wake up to take a midterm that counts for 40% of your grade the next morning? Exactly. Well actually, I hope that you don’t have to go through that when you’re like 45 years old, but to each his own.

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The Reason Why You’re Single.

Guys, I’ve been single for a while, and I’ve reached that point of #foreveralone satisfaction and bliss, nominating myself as the Best Third-Wheel Ever and buying myself chocolates on Valentine’s Day. My best friend does this thing where we argue but it’s a joking argument but it has like 13% truth behind it but not really but really, you know? One night, I put my singleness on blast, per usual. She was telling me how she really came up with her boyfriend; he blossomed from our first year at college to our now fourth year. I agreed, and said that my boyfriend made progress too but I was unfortunately unable to see the progress because he was… invisible – cue laughter. She responded by saying that I’m single by choice; I could get a guy if I really wanted.

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Technology Ruins Everything: An Organized Rant With Virtually No Solutions

When it comes to phones, computers, and tablets, technology, you’re doing a fantastic job. When it comes to relationships, technology should be referred to wrecknology, because as Miley maybe once said, a wrong text or tweet could come in any time like a wrecking ball.

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