The Art of Nothing to Say and All the Space to Say It

...or how i learned to drive

i got nothin'.

i spent 15 minutes trying to get into the atm using my work key card.

personal space on the express train means nothing.

that should have been me.

they have started announcing where trains are in proximity to the station. i'm not sure i like this. whatever happened to the element of surprise? and it doesn't stop all those annoying people from leaning out to look down the tracks...it ain't gunna come any faster buddy...

contrary to popular belief, everybody does not look good in green.

i loath my nose.

why do we find ourselves waiting around for people to do the same shit they've always done? people do change. i am not the same person i was year ago, but i am still probably going to forget your birthday.

i'm having a day.

cracking my neck does not warrant a discussion.

money matters would matter more if I had any.

my sister donated her hair to locks of love. i have never been more proud of her. cancer fucking sucks. at least you should have hair.

have you ever thrown up on the subway? hands? anyone? just me? okay then....

very little can rival the humor of the sneeze fart.

if you don't leave a message, i will not call you back.

kittens. kit-TENS. KIT-tens. ki'ns.

if you leave a message, i still probably won't call you back, but at least i'll know who called. i hate the mystery!

i miss selma jane.

ever have one of those days where you find yourself so tired that it hurts, physically hurts, to open your eyes?

ever seen someone so ugly, so repulsive that it hurts, physically hurts, to open your eyes?

when i'm feeling depressed, i like to try to walk up the down escalator. i feel like it is a metaphor for my life, which makes me feel all existential and shit.

my boss told me i looked depressed today.

i think sometimes it would have been better if i was born a man. i have a severe shortage in the emotions and romance department. gimmie a beer and a ball game any day.

i officially cannot wait for Opening Day.

girls are bitches. bitches with boobs.

if you got kicked in the head, and there was footage of it, would you want to watch?

after working up 2 weeks worth of energy and strength and xanax, i finally felt ready for my dentist appointment. after being too late for the subway, bumper to bumper traffic driving, and lots of hyperventilation, i arrive at my appointment to discover the dentist was not in office this morning.

my teeth feel miraculously better.

i am the luckiest girl in the world....and not just cuz i got a nice rack.

x marks the spot. 1013.

i was trying to stop swearing. fuck that shit.

a cop asked to check my bag this morning. i pretended to be deaf. i might go to hell.

i look in the mirror and i hardly recognize myself anymore. i did not have a single drink on St Patrick's Day...next thing you know, i'll be skipping cinco de mayo! what is this world coming to?

my mind hurts. bite me. i'm out.

and i need a beer....