Wednesday, December 31, 2008

2009. I'm super content with life (well, aside from the last 24 hours). I've had to withdraw from some people, and trust others more (which hasn't been easy, as I'm terrified of trust), take chances, kiss a lot of frogs and smoke a lot of weed. I wonder how many pounds of weed I smoke in a year?

OMG. THAT'S IT. Starting in 2009 I'm going to record ALL my purchases in my blog. Then I can actually do the math! I doubt I'll keep up with it, but it's worth and a shot, I really want to make something of this little nug of a blog. I mean, I dunno if I want business cards that say my name and "Pot Blogger" underneath, but I want readers. I want people to enjoy my content. So I guess my new years resolution is to keep blogging.

I'm not going to start in on some unreasonable quest for self discovery, I'm going to aim for something easily attainable and be the only asshole who kept their bullshit resolution.

2008 rocked, quick recap (according to my livejournal):

Started the year off in high Texas with my ex in some fantasy. Sift kick in the ass. Made one of my best playlists EVER. I missed meeting Victoria Beckham at Saks. Real emotional trash. Stayed sassy a few times. Lacrosse boy number one. Smoked exactly 1 FILTERED Lucky Strike Cigarette. The unnamed coffee shop in which I work hired me. Kidnap/rape/murder rumor. Accidentally deleted all my music. GOT TATTOOED. Brownies, blunts. LOL my last arrest (Don't ask, I'm done with that shit). Court. Dismissal. Insomnia. I helped someone go crazy. Cannonade. Beatlemania. The girls. Saw Jeffree Starr on the T. Depression. Summer. BONNAROO. That hot second in NYC. Austin. More Austin. Rode my first rollercoaster EVER. Wifey. School. Lacrosse boy number two. 19. Drinking. more drinking. More drinking. Blackouts. Drama. Running away at parties. Failing all over the place. Fucked Peruvian drug dealer. Fail. More Drama. Monday naps in 215. Shopping binges. Barlola. My diagnosis. And now here I am, sitting. Waiting for the end.

T minus one hour, fifty minutes. I'm staying home and staying stoned. Fail.

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