I am Cappie from Greek. Only a girl. And not as…loose.
I love nostalgia. I could drown in it.
You could hand me a million dollars and a new planner and I would be more excited about the planner.
I have lost some part of me that loved adventure. I don’t have adventures anymore. I’m not brave. I can’t even admit my feelings to people. I’m 24 and I’ve never been able to just say, “I like you. A lot.” And I’m ashamed of that a little. Why can’t I just suck it up? Why can’t I take risks?
I love writing, and somehow I seem to forget that until I come back to it.
I want to spend the rest of my life in a big house with my friends. All of my favorite people would be there and it would be a giant house of awesome. Are y’all in?
Books are pure joy to me. I don’t even know why. Sometimes it’s the story, but I am happy just thinking about the shape books come in. It’s an inexplicable source of happiness for me.
This is the first year that I’m not excited about my birthday. I’m really not.
I need work, not just to provide money, but to give me something to do. Being idle officially frustrates me.
I miss my girls every day.
I wish that I made friends now as easily as I did when I was five. Why can’t I? Can we all just go back to that simplicity?
Sometimes I think God regrets me. I feel like a failure over 50% of the time. I know it’s a lie, but I still feel like shit at the end of the day, more often than not.
I don’t understand math. At all. It boggles my mind that math is literally everywhere, in everything. CRAZY.
Tennyson will always be my favorite even though he was a sexist.
Bram Stoker is the man.
Will I ever get married? Do I ever want to?
I am dying to see the world and terrified that when I do, I’ll regret it.
I am so happy that my birthday landed on a Saturday this year. For real.
So the night before my birthday I ate pizza. On my birthday, I refuse to allow myself to eat dairy. But I will eat french fries. And have a frilly drink.
I don’t like excessively drinking. Over half the time I turn down opportunities to drink wine or beer in favor of drinking water.
I love water. It’s my favorite.
Pepsi-Cola Vanilla is my second favorite. For real, that stuff is practically crack.
Pop Rocks are gross, but still delightful. And they have dairy in them. (I WAS SHOCKED)
Persuasion is the sweetest love story ever. It is the perfect effusion of all the feelings. I cry every time I read it.
I hope I get the 8th season of Doctor Who for my birthday. But beyond that, I don’t think I wanted anything. I can’t imagine any big presents from my family because they give me so much already, being unemployed and all.
I love my family a lot. I love my sisters and I miss Brianna so much. A small part of me wishes that she lived with us all, but I’m really happy that she’s doing well in Denver.
I really want to be in school this year. I wish I had classes to attend and something to focus on.
NaNoWriMo is on my mind. I don’t know what I want to write, or if I’ll write anything this year. It would feel weird not to participate.
I want to vlog on a regular basis. I like it. I just hate editing it. Anyone want to video edit my vlogs for me?
I miss reading stories out loud.
I miss reading stories that matter.
There are people across the world who tore out pieces of my heart and I know I’ll never get them back. And I wish I could. I wish I could stop caring about people who have forgotten all about me.
I’m too sensitive.
I really do want to learn more about social media theory and technical writing. I’m on the edges of fascination.
I think that 24 terrifies me. I’m so scared.
I want, more than anything, to move from where I am, emotionally, physically, academically, spiritually, and psychologically. I just need a direction.
These are the thoughts I have leading into my birthday. Most are depressing, but I issue no apologies. I’m being honest with myself and with you.
Happy birthday to me. May this year be infinitely better than the last.