I have given it a week and I can officially say: I hate these new bangs. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.
Yesterday, my bf and I joked about starting a Hole cover band, but I’d totally do it for real.
I’m a terrible singer, but give me a couple of glasses of wine and a Xanax and I’d be all over that shit. Because I feel it. You know what I mean?
I want to learn how to play piano. I’ve wanted to do it for years. The problem is…I don’t have a piano for practicing.
I also want to learn to knit. But I need personal instruction. Those intro classes and YouTube videos don’t work for me.
I want a tummy tuck. If I end up getting one, I’ll be naked whenever possible, because otherwise I think my body is pretty fucking slamming. Even with my fake nipple-less boobs. Hey…I’ve got mandala tit tats. Not many people can say the same.
I want Claire’s wardrobe from House of Cards. I’m probably not supposed to admire her, but I totally do.
I should have just cut all my hair off at my last appointment. It’s like I’m trying to recapture that girl I was before I lost all my hair to chemo. That cute girl with the long hair. But that girl doesn’t live here anymore.
I’m in a purging mood. I want to get rid of everything. I have all this stuff, but none of it makes me happy. I want to start fresh in the new house. (Also, I have to learn how to share a closet again. This could be ugly.)
What makes me happy? My people make me happy. It’s all about love. That’s what I’ve learned.
Sometimes I giggle when I think about all the people who hated on me for getting a divorce to be with the person I loved, and now so many of them are divorced too. Suck it, haters. Get off the high horse and welcome to reality.
I’m two glasses of wine into the night. Welcome to my early truth post.
We watched Mac And Dennis Move To The Suburbs yesterday. Sometimes, I identify with Dennis way more than I feel comfortable with.
The best part of today: leftover buffalo chicken dip.