If I see a chapstick that I’ve never tried, I have to buy it. And then once that door’s been opened, I have to check the whole store to see if there are more chapsticks that I don’t have.
I love rules and I love following them, unless that rule is stupid.
Having to fight for the thing you want doesn’t mean you deserve it any less.
I thrive in structure. I drown in chaos.
Don’t try to participate in anyone else’s idea of what is supposed to happen in a relationship. You will fail.
Some bitter boys reading this might accuse me of “friend-zoning,” but I’d like to say that even if a girl has misinterpreted a situation that someone else thinks was obvious, she does not owe her male friends anything.
Ninety percent of the people I’ve worked with who are disruptive or lazy or unskilled or addicts or likely to throw a tantrum are men. Ninety percent of the ones who get called “difficult” are women.
People being tough with you doesn’t mean they’re villains.
I realized that modern flirting was essentially just being mean while smiling.
Oh my god, I just made out with Legolas!′ Again, I’m not going to name that actor, as I wish to respect his privacy.
Self-doubt is healthy! Self-doubt keeps me in check!
Alas, I’ve tried to be honest, because honesty makes me feel less alone.
Sure, it will be hard, but all you need to be a writer is perseverance, a low-level alcohol dependency, and a questionable moral compass.
So many people say they wish they could be young again. You couldn’t drag me back to twenty-one. All the hiding, all the pretending, all the hanging out with people you don’t actually like.
As Sondheim said, Nice is different than good. Do you need to do whatever you’re told to be a nice person? Maybe. Do you need to do whatever you’re told to be a good person? Of course not! Man, woman, personal, professional – some people have a skill for persuading you the best thing you can be is obedient. A.
With every birthday, I have stupidly expected to feel different only to discover that I’m still me: tragically lazy and childish.
I’ve also now been around enough people who have a low opinion of anyone who’s creative in a non-professional realm to know that that’s ugly and ignorant. People don’t have to do things by half measure because they aren’t getting paid for it. In fact, that’s all the more reason to throw every ounce of passion you have behind it.
My handwriting as an angsty teen was appalling, yet somehow better than it is now.
It’s not that deep down I want someone to “take care of me,” it’s that I’m exhausted, and occasionally overwhelmed by self-doubt. I’m steering the ship, but I don’t know what I’m doing. None of us do. But it would be so nice to believe that someone out there did, and that maybe they could take the wheel for a little while. It’s a seductive feeling. It would be great if it were real. But I guess I’ve got to count on myself. Which is not great news.
If there was just a little more time, or a little more money, or if you could just get through this one last rough patch, it would all be clear, it would all fall into place. It’s an insatiable trap. And.