Photographs from Amsterdamn, the Hague, The Netherlands, Europe, Earth

The pursuit of happy

Recently I've been balancing out my social life between marathons of anything on HBO and trying to flirt with boys.

Today I sent a guy a text that read "Today I met someone who has had a phobia of bugs for ten years". I'm such a fucking great conversationalist it kills me.

(It wasn't even true I met said character two days ago, his name is JR and he likes watching Comedy Central and talking about the politics behind South Park and Family Guy - the only time I chimed in was to proclaim "Liberals are noisy" but I can't differentiate between a socialist and a liberal.)

I'm so prone to crushing on all the wrong guys.

Cliche lady No. 5243589 "I'm an asshole magnet". The guys I talk to aren't even assholes they just always have to have something that hinders any type of decent future.

My last boytoy dropped out of community college, poured bleach down an ice cream machine to get out of work early (thrice), and is currently saving his minimum wage for a tattoo sleeve of Vans logos. The only lingering wisdom he left me with was "Don't think you're cooler than anyone else because you listen to Pains of Being Pure at Heart".

No, I think I'm cool because I lost my virginity to them, duh.