Thanks to buzzfeed quizzes, examining my conscience is so much easier. And shouldn’t we all ask ourselves those tough questions this time of year? ”If I were a pizza, what kind would I be?” Or, “Do I prefer Miley Cyrus from her Hanna Montana days or on a Wrecking Ball?”
But what is a life if it’s not examined? Not picked apart? Not squeezed like an engorged tick in a ziplock baggie?
I make cards between all of this productive introspection. Sometimes fictional creatures are harmed. Sometimes, they are spared.
Merry Christmas Eve-Eve!
More to come…
Oh, the cats? Never mind those. This place is crawling with them.
Fine, here’s this year’s Christmas tree.
See you there!
Two observations:
And I am here because I love the smell of flooded basements. 
Is that asbestos tile??
Don’t hurry home guys!
And *I* know it’s summer for other, more important, reasons.
But I’m trying to be a better person/less into body-sculpting, so I decided to read a book. It was written by 
Chapter 25 was especially fun to read because Madge is so near and dear to my heart and I could relate to the notion of elder-abuse.
Except my mom has made it very clear that she wants to be euthanized via pillow-suffocation, pre-elder-abuse.
but I have never really studied it…
And again…
I KNEW IT.
And EMTs had to come to that same dingy bedroom, on that very same night, because we thought my chest-tube had fallen out?
Choosing paint color is just like choosing ink color. But with less Jen and more anxiety.
Dinah told me later that she was plotting my murder while I took this photo.
Who needs pants when you have legs like that? Amiright??
Broken femur?
SERIOUSLY???