record store finds because peter gabriel singing “book of love” is all the feelings
Ended up skipping the book signing in DC to hang out a little closer to home. The Longreads list I’m making tonight is about Roxane Gay. I could never do her justice, though. She’s too good for a list. I’m going to try, though.
Literally sobbing at my desk about the series finale of Buffy
Woke up with pillow tracks so severe I thought they were spider bites. I do have a large zit on the side of my face, though, and an attractive sprinkling by my nose. I think they’re from stress and sleep deprivation and caffeine and dehydration. I’m so, so tired. My benevolent father bought me breakfast today, but I wish he would turn the car around and take me home so I could sleep for 12 more hours.
Whenever I skip me medicine, I have very vivid dreams. Last night, I was at a beach house with attractive men and women. Mish left to hike the trail, my close friends were angry with me, I went to some sort of concert where no one saved me a seat, etc. The coolest part of the dream was meeting the cast of a play I love. They invited me to sit in on their rehearsals.
There are so many pep talks in season seven of Buffy.
Your copies of #TheAnnual will be in the mail tomorrow. I can’t wait for y’all to see this issue—it’s awesome. @theannualtweets @kevindotcole
A deep-sea octopus brooded its eggs for 4.5 years before they hatched and it died.
The fact that this made me weep at my desk though
"Walk Off" by The National // The Summer, Poppy Field by Claude Monet
believe me, believe me, believe me
I love you Micahcat.
What if I stopped paying my student loans and bought sexy underwear and bras instead