Remember the time I told you guys that I have a hard time sticking to something? No? Well, I do. About two months ago I had said to keep your eyes peeled for excerpts from my “short story.” I found the notebook today. It is absolutely terrible. I love how I think I have all these hidden talents. Fail. I’ll share some with you anyway.
1.
As I was blow drying my hair, I realized two things. One, this fucking one-piece bathing suit forces my “back-fat” to come out and play. And two, I make really, and I mean really, terrible decisions. Where there used to be bright purple streaks of hair, there are now blondish pink-orange streak. This is just the least of my problems.
I am twenty-one years old. My parents have given me anything I have ever wanted up to this point in my life. Why, someone please tell me, why would I move out? And to the Bronx, NY of all places? Well, Kellie Monaco and I have been best friends since we were twelve years old. Back then, nothing came between us. These days? Everything comes between us. Don’t ever live with your best friend. Ever.
Back in February of 2009, Kellie was in search of a roommate. I figured, since I was planning on going to college in the city after graduating from a two-year community college, why not? It was a cute, three-bedroom apartment in Riverdale. Since there were only three bedrooms and four girls, someone had to share their room. Since Kellie and I were best friends, we volunteered ourselves.
The other two girls we shacked up with were Mim and Sarah. I already knew Mim. Kellie had lived with Mim the year before. In the past, Mim had been difficult to live with (says Kellie). Knowing this about Mim, Kellie decides to live with her anyway! Sarah comes off as someone who gets along with everyone. From the very beginning of this living situation, Kellie had portrayed Mim as the “bad” roommate and Sarah as the “sweetheart.” Because Kellie and I had been friends for so long, I went along with this accusation. As time went on, things sure did change.
—
I wrote two more interesting “chapters,” if you will. One about Mim (and how much I fell in love with our friendship) and one about Sarah (and how every little thing she says or does is not without a bitchy attitude). What are the odds of Sarah or Kellie reading this? Slim to none. They really could not care less about me at this point.
ANYWAY, I’ve been told by more than one person to get back to blogging. So, here I am. I’ll leave you with (what my mother will think is an inappropriate) self portrait. Taken with Photo Booth so it’s not the best quality.