(Yes, my relationship is over but my love affair with alcohol will never die. Remember: people come and go but liver damage is forever.)
This September, Alessandro and I celebrated our four-year anniversary. We met on campus in my sophomore year of college and moved in together after a little over a year as we continued our education together. Things were good. It was easy. Considering my love of dysfunction, I should’ve realized something wasn’t quite right.
Make no mistake, in this story I am the bad guy. We met just as I ended my first relationship and I hopped into this one without really giving myself time to think or grieve or remember to go to class. Sure, I loved him, but not enough to imagine a future together or to not feel the need to talk to other guys. (I KNOW I’M THE WORST, SHUT UP ABOUT IT.) Anyways, recently we started to see we didn’t have enough money to keep living in our apartment together so we both moved back in with our parents and decided to call it quits.
It’s weird being alone after 7 years of boyfriends. I still have my friends but sometimes you just wanna tell someone that you found a really long nose hair or saw a bumper sticker that said “I brake for wet leaves”, and you go to pick up your phone to send the news but you realize nobody except your significant other would even care, and suddenly you’re like,
“Shit… I really am alone.”
Then you start to ask yourself what you used to do before you had someone to chill with 24/7 and your mind becomes that scene from SpongeBob Squarepants where he’s trying to remember his name.
With that in mind, I’ve developed a few more drinking games you can play by yourself because who’s about to stop you? Certainly not your significant other because you’re alone and no one loves you.
Drinking Games to Play Alone:
Download Tinder. Take a drink every time you swipe right, chug if it’s a match.
Go through your phone, Facebook, picture library, etc. and drink whenever you delete a picture of your ex. (Because that’s how you win. At drinking AND at life.)
Make a list of all your past lovers/significant others/crushes and text ALL OF THEM. Drink if they text you back. Chug if they hit you up for a booty call.
This one’s obvious and possibly overused but open Chat Roulette, Omegle, whatever else they have now and shuffle through the people. Drink whenever you see a penis.
Solo Beer Pong: All you need for this is a table, a wall, cups, and ping pong balls. Put the table against the wall and arrange cups in front of you the way you normally would in beer pong but only your side. Use the table and the wall to bounce the balls into your own cups. Drink when you make the shot, etc. (normal rules apply).
Turn on one of your favorite (or least favorite) movies or tv shows. Make your own drinking game!! (It’s fun.) For example, I used to make drinking games for the Presidential debates but I was too good at them and I almost got alcohol poisoning so I stopped. (I’m actually thinking about making a whole series of drinking games for movies and tv shows to put on this blog so if you have any requests, leave them in the comments below.)
Put your playlist on shuffle. Try for mostly love songs. Drink every time you cry. (This also works for sad movies and looking through the aforementioned pictures of your ex as well.)
Well, that’s all I have for now. If you want more, refer to my last post about drinking games to play alone. It’s a decent read. If you have any ideas you’d like to share, feel free to leave them in the comments below. And remember: you’re never alone when there’s booze and twitter.
(Lessons about life, love, independence, and the point of exercising. But most importantly, lessons about myself. And why other people can suck it.)
If you follow me on my myriad social media, you might know that I’m going through a huge transitional period in my life and basically everything you know about stuff unrelated to my physical body/mind is different now. (Try to keep up.)
I broke up with my boyfriend, took a leave of absence from school, and moved back in with my mom and step dad. I’ll talk about the details of the breakup and other things in another post, but this one is about the process of moving from one place to another.
If you weren’t already aware, it fucking sucks.
Although I feel like quite the beast because other than my dad carrying the big furniture out of my apartment, ’twas all me (not Alessandro cause he left me in the lurch mad hard) and doing all that by myself made me realize that I can do anything so haters to the left.
Here’s the list of things moving taught me. Enjoy.
90% of my possessions are just trash or scraps of paper. Also clothing. I have too much of it.
Carrying all those books back and forth is exactly why people don’t read. No one should be this literate.
I have more boxes than actual things to put in said boxes.
I never thought I’d have anything negative to say about consumerism, but here we are.
Where is all the cocaine?
Of all the things I have in common with homeless people (heavy drinking, flannel, boxes,etc.), the ability to pack lightly is not one of them.
Officially jealous of hobos.
There’s no scenario wherein I don’t fall down the stairs again at the end of this. (SIDE NOTE: I did fall many times but luckily not down the stairs.)
Initially, I wrote this list on a physical piece of paper because I CAN’T LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES.
So. Much. Paper.
I spent more time staring at everything than actually packing.
Seeing my life laid before me in boxes and trash bags made me wonder why no concerned citizen hasn’t intervened on behalf of this poor mentally challenged young woman. I really shouldn’t even be allowed to drive.
Adults don’t need this many posters.
Nor this many American flags unless they operate a military sign-up post.
I need to stop getting drunk and buying crap online.
Going through all this reminded me of the time I hid a $1,200 check somewhere and the apartment became a “National Treasure” movie. (I still haven’t found that check.)
My neighbors stole all my trash cans as one last “fuck you” before I moved, so I waited until the last day and made my own Trash Mountain on the sidewalk. It was glorious and evidence as to why you shouldn’t fuck with me.
My back is going to hurt forever.
I totally don’t need a man. (Except for my dad because even with all this hardcore girl-power flowing through my veins, I still can’t lift heavy furniture.)
This is the first time in a long time I feel like I’m moving my life in the right direction, so despite everything that’s been going on, I’m really truly happy.
By the way, I’m dyeing my hair blonde next week so strap in for that mess. Pictures and more to come later. Bye now :)
(Not much has changed. I might actually be less funny and relevant now. But I’m older, so ya know… silver linings.)
Two years ago today (well, technically it was August 2nd but let’s not bust balls), I wrong my first blog post for this dumb little site all because my dad said that I wouldn’t follow through with it. So much beauty sprung from spite.
It’s like a poem.
My first post was pretty bad. I rambled on for multiple paragraphs about lion terrorists and how I peed myself in my car and looking back, I have to wonder what the hell was I thinking? That girl sounded like she was on drugs and honestly she probably was.
Anyways, as I’ve looked over the vast empire of bullshit I’ve built these past two years, I’ve noticed that you all seem to really like reading about the stupid stuff I get into when I get drunk and sad, so you’re all basically reveling in my sorrows and addictions. Shame. On. You. I wag my finger in your general direction. You also have a deep interest in drinking games you can play by yourself which tells me two things: 1) I need to write another post with new and improved solo-drinking games, and 2) A lot of you must be drinking alone or at least enough that it might be a problem so I understand the need to commiserate.
Another thing I used to do a lot is list a few choice search terms that led people to my blog, and no matter how long I write on the internet, I’ll never get used to the crazy, funny, and mostly disgusting phrases typed into search engines. (I clearly use the word “bitch” waayyy too much so the blame is partly on me.) Now without further ado, here’s some search terms that somehow brought you here in 2016 so far:
1. solo drinking games; drinking games to play alone; drinking games to play by yourself; one person drinking games (You see what I mean?)
2. do i go banging on peoples doors asking for them to suck my penis america? (Fabulous)
3. your pussy aint worth the fames you playing (I don’t understand what it’s saying, but somehow my feelings still hurt.)
4. teens kitten twitter (I realize this seems harmless, but I don’t trust it.)
5. fuck yall all i need is jesus
6. officially bullshit (Refer to my “Bullshit” post.)
7. i just love my all fucking haters
8. twitter typical white girl funny scary video of phone ringing in bed (…What??)
9. what does the expression mean when they say i’m not always a bitch just kidding go fuck yourself (This should be self-explanatory, I’m disappointed in whoever wrote this.)
10. dee you bitch (Lol, an “Always Sunny” reference never fails to warm my heart.)
11. guess who’s not going back to high school (Frenchie? But seriously, take that guy’s advice: “Turn in your teasing comb and go back to high school.”)
12. bitch am not into you (…Whatever, I’m not into you either. Mean.)
So there you go. Two years of bullshit and not much has changed. Keep an eye out for my next drinking game post because I might do another giveaway with money and giftcards and perhaps a featured blogger contest.
Thanks again for being a part of the nonsense with me all this time. Come for the pumpkin spice, stay for the unadulterated crazy.
(I had no idea how aptly named my blog was. It’s sad because a little part of me always felt gangster, and I really hoped my internal makeup was more diverse. “White Girls Be Like” was never more real. I can’t even…)
Recently, my friend Jessie of “You’re Fine”took a DNA test and wrote about it on her blog. I was like, “Awesome, I wanna try that!” and bought a test from 23andMe to see my own ancestral breakdown. I figured it wasn’t going to be as interesting as Jessie’s, but maybe I’d find out something cool or find a relative I never knew about.
First of all, I had no idea about the process of sending away your DNA. Basically you have to spit into this little cup thingy until it reaches the line (they say it takes about 5 minutes for most people, but I was spitting in this thing for half an hour). Then you do some sciencey stuff and wrap everything up in the package they give you and put it in the mail. A million years later (or about a month), you get your results online and all this cool stuff telling you about yourself and some stuff you already know (like, “yes, I know I have red hair, thanks for the info”) but also some stuff that you wouldn’t think they’d know which is cool. For instance, they knew I was a sprinter (back in the day, not now) because I have some gene that says something about my muscles and how they’re made to sprint.
On the website, there’s a million reports all about what your DNA means (I highly recommend doing this, it’s super fun), and you can click on said reports to give you more detailed information. I started off seeing my ancestral breakdown.
There’s a bunch of smaller percentages under these, but mostly I’m British and Irish. Big surprise. Another thing they can tell you is how much Neanderthal you have in you. Apparently I have quite a lot, and I’m not sure what that says about me, but my mom laughed and said, “That makes so much sense!” which is always nice to hear…
Some other things they told me I was likely to possess were interesting because I totally broke the mold and said, “Hey, DNA! I don’t care what I’m ‘supposed’ to be like. I’m gonna be ME.” Here’s a list of stuff that was wrong:
Unlikely to have a cleft chin. I totally have one. In fact, my cleft chin is a definitive factor about my face. My uncles used to think it was funny to take a tissue up to my chin and say things like, “Hey, Alanna, I think you forgot to wipe,” or, “You have an ass on your face.” The latter isn’t very clever, but still hurt my feelings.
Unlikely to have a widow’s peak. Uhmm… hello??
Likely to have detached earlobes. Mine are definitely attached.
Likely to have a little unibrow. Wow. Not nice. I don’t have a unibrow and I actually don’t seem to grow any hair in between my eyebrows so take that DNA people!!
Likely to have straight or wavy hair. Okay, this one is half right I suppose. My hair is pretty curly but sometimes just wavy depending on the humidity or if God wants to punish me that day.
Other weird stuff about me is on the reports like the fact that I have wet earwax (shut up, it’s not that gross) and something about if I can tell if my pee smells like asparagus after I eat it (asparagus, not eating my pee). I can also share my reports, so if you’re interested in how my ring fingers are longer than my index fingers, feel free to shoot me an email.
All in all, I’m just another white girl who likes to hang out in basements (probably because they remind me of being in a cave). Have you ever tested your DNA? If so, what’d you find out? If not, what do you suppose you are? How Neanderthal are you?
(A complex man with complex thoughts and a sage-like wisdom, Kenneth Powers provides laughter to all and guidance to many.)
If you haven’t already seen one of the greatest television programs known to man, a.k.a. “Eastbound & Down“, you should stop what you’re doing immediately and run to your nearest HBO provider.
For those of you who don’t know the story, it’s about a dude who became a huge baseball star after high school and then pissed his success away with drugs, ladies, and alcohol. “Several shitty years later”, he returns to his hometown, down on his luck.
“But a true champion, face to face in his darkest hour will do whatever it takes to rise above. A man fights, fights, and fights some more. Because surrender is death, and death is for pussies. And my ass ain’t no pussy. My ass is a fucking champion.“
Through his life and his audio book, Kenny Powers shows us how to live…
1. Confidence is key.
“Undaunted, I knew the game was mine to win. Just like in life, all of my successes depend on me. I’m the man who has the ball; I’m the man who can throw it faster than fuck. So, that is why I’m better than everyone in the world. Kiss my ass and suck my dick, everyone.”
2. Race is just a label.
“Honestly, I can’t even believe that you would look at me and the word ‘gringo’ would even come to mind. Does it make your life easier just to throw a quick racist term at somebody? A man who has seen the things I have seen, experienced the loss and pain that I’ve experienced. I transcend race, hombre.”
3. Work hard, play harder.
4. The Yukon Denali XL is man’s greatest vehicular achievement.
“I got the glory. I get the fame, the money, the jewels, the cash, the Denali. Getting drunk on the reg, fucking good times on the reg, yachts on the reg, sex on the reg. Basically, all the shit that most men fantasize about.”
(Also, it’s my dream car. If this writing thing ever goes anywhere, I’m getting one.)
5. Take a break from technology and live your life.
6. Making money is important.
“The amount of money I’m gonna be making would hurt your parents feelings. You remember the class where I taught you all how to make it rain? That’s what I’m going to be doing every, single night. Dollar, dollar bills, y’all.”
7. You don’t have to be a Crossfit/P90x/gym-rat.
(I think this is even a meme now.)
8. Examine your weaknesses as well as your strengths.
“In Mexico, a man can truly get lost. And, if you’re a bank robber, or maybe someone who’s committed a fucked up, crazy crime, then that’s a good thing. But hiding takes it’s toll. At first you don’t realize it but, soon the identity that you tried to shed starts getting pissed and knocking at your insides. You know, when dealing with deep depression and sad shit, it’s cool to pretend like nothing is wrong. That, sometimes, works. But, eventually, you got to call a goddamn spade a spade and be like , ‘Yo, I’m fucked up and I got to make a change.'”
9. People will be dicks, but you don’t have to like everybody.
“You don’t like me? Well you’re the one with a fucking disability. It should be me not liking you, and yet I accept you. And you do this to me? Man, fuck you, you midget. I’m taking the fucking cocks.”
10. Things eventually get better.
“Chapter 10: Making the world your bitch. Once again, I’m with the hottest chick in town, buying the most expensive fashions, dining in the fanciest food places, riding around on goddam jet-skis, raining trim, hallucinogens, jet-skis again, throwing heat and getting laid. Did this tale end the way I thought it would? Probably not. But as long as I win, who gives a shit?”
There you have it. The wisdom of Kenny Powers. All of us could stand to take a lesson from this great man.
“So in closing, I’d like to give big ups to God, Buddha, L. Ron, whoever. Hell, maybe I just need to thank me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all my adventures and conquests is that some people are just wired for success. I had no choice when it came to being great. I just am great. I’m not trying to sound cocky, or full of myself. But, Kenny Powers has a sneaking suspicion that no matter what comes his way, he will always be great. Because that’s just the way shit works sometimes.”
(Sort of. It’s kind of a mix between that, my ramblings, and Gina and I being awesome. So… you’re welcome.)
I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last posted. I’ve been wondering if I could pay someone to pretend to be me and take care of all my responsibilities while I sleep.
(I’m not having much luck.)
Also, I’m spending my Valentine’s Day watching tv and drinking by myself because Alessandro is too busy to hang out with me. (Like school and work are more important than me or something?) Therefore, my new boyfriend is a dog-shaped body pillow named “Rufus”. He never yells at me for the giant pile of laundry or tries to explain the math involved in fluid dynamics to me. Plus, he doesn’t judge me for day-drinking or spending too much money at McDonald’s.
My perfect man. <3
Another fun fact: as of February 2nd, I’ve been blogging for 7 months. (I missed my 6-month blogging anniversary, which by the way, is technically a misnomer. “Anniversary” implies a year, so I think they should make up a term for the 6-month mark rather than adding slang and Harry Potter words to the dictionary. But whatever, Merriam and/or Webster. I guess you have more important things to worry about. Like being dead.) You can read my very first post here and see how much I’ve changed. Although it hasn’t been much…
But I’d like to thank you all for staying with me through the ramblings and the nonsense. It truly means a lot. I hope you all stay around for another 7 months (and then hopefully after that as well).
That being said, Gina and I once again have embarked upon a joint-post. This time, it’s our various search terms which led to our blogs and our responses to them. Search terms are always fun, but I’ve gotta say, God bless Google Analytics.
1. it’s all fun and games until your jeans don’t fit
Gina: Oh man, I can’t even make fun of this one because I fall into this category. Have there been days when I’ve had to lie flat on my back to zip up my jeans? Yes. Yes there have. *whispers, “nearly every day”* *makes sad face*
2. I’m not always a bitch just kidding go fuck yourself
Gina: You know how often at the end of work emails you’ll see people put their company logo and some kind of positive sentiment? The Customer is Priority One! I would love to put this line as my personal motto.
Me: Yeah, I’ve got nothing.
3. classy stripper
Gina: Hmmm, yes, where to begin with these two words. They don’t go together of course. I’m trying to imagine what such a woman would look like. Would she wear a button-up blouse and pearls? Wear her hair in a tight bun? Discuss English literature with her patrons? Lady, if you are a stripper you can never be classy. I’m sorry to break the news to you but it’s true.
Me: Oxymoron? But then again, given my history with stripper poles and costume shoes, I’m not here to judge.
4. asshole award
Gina: We all know people who are deserving of an “Asshole Award”. When I first read this phrase for some reason my mind brought up an image of an actual AWARD. Like a trophy. How would you represent the “puckered starfish” in bronze I wondered? So I googled “asshole award” and the image below is not what I was looking for but it’s so amazingly awesome I had to share:
Me: Okay, I might be a jerk but I don’t think it deserves an award. Not totally sure Google likes me…
5. life is like a penis
Gina: Um, long periods of boredom spent in the dark with brief moments of pure ecstasy? Wait, life really IS like a penis. I had never thought of that before.
Me: Interesting analogy. I’d like to hear how exactly. In that it is hard sometimes? Or that it’s constantly needing some sort of “job” to be done? The possibilities are endless.
6. suck my dick I’m a shark
Gina: Wow, the whole aggressive “shark” stereotype is actually true. But I don’t like your tone, so there will be no shark fellatio for you.
Me: Do sharks even have dicks? And if so, how are you using a computer, Mr. Shark? You’re fins shouldn’t be able to type. Unless it’s voice recognition. But this is exactly what’s wrong with technology: if sharks have iPHone’s, the next step is the movie “Deep Blue Sea”. And that’s just too much for me to handle. (I don’t want LL Cool J to die!!)
7. Kim Jong-un looking at things he wants to eat
Gina: Considering he’s the only fat person in a country full of starving people, I image that a photo of what he wants to eat is actually what he DOES eat. (He is also an Asshole Award recipient)
Me: The Supreme Leader doesn’t eat. Right? Cause gods or whatever don’t need to eat. Or crap. Apparently.
8. pray for ugly baby
Gina: Um, I guess I can do that. Won’t God be a little put out at such a shallow prayer? Instead of the usual prayers of “heal my sick baby” or “don’t let my starving baby die” heard ‘round the world, you want me to try to pray away your bad genetics. OK, asshole (and I’ll be nominating you for an Asshole Award).
Me: Who the fuck is “ugly baby” and why does this lead to my blog?
9. I care so little I almost passed out
Gina: Wow, such snark. I just pictured a bitchy fifteen-year old girl uttering these words. It’s OK honey. You’re young and inexperienced. It’s a half-way decent insult for someone your age. Keep practicing and you’ll get better.
Me: I’m starting to think these inquiries are somehow pointed…
10. one vodka two vodka three vodka drop dead
Gina: True fact– this is the Dr. Seuss book that was never published. It was before it’s time. However, once it hits the shelves at a later date this year, it’s guaranteed to be a runaway bestseller. The deluxe hardback version will include a tiny vodka bottle keychain for the adults, which can also be used as a backpack hang-tag for kids.
Me: Only if you’re a pussy. Or if “one vodka” = “one 750mL-bottle of vodka”. But even then, it’s a maybe.
11. who needs tits with an ass like this shirt
Gina: I’ve read this sentence a dozen times and it makes me laugh, but seriously it makes no sense. You’d expect the line to be, “Who needs tits with an ass like this” but the addition of the word “shirt” makes it nonsensical. It’s still funny though…
Me: Flat-chested girls just making themselves feel better. The end.
12. things that make you vomit
Gina: Well, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the search term below comes directly after this one. Sometimes the humor just writes itself.
Me: Teenagers better not be coming here to learn how to be bulimic. IT’S CALLED “NOT EATING”, LADIES. LEARN HOW TO DO IT.
13. Larry David naked
Gina: Full disclosure—I love Larry David and think he’s hilarious, but damn, I’ve never wanted to imagine him naked. See search term above.
Me: Hahahahaha, why though? Why did you look this up? Shame on you, person. Ugly baby judges you.
14. hell is filled with people like you
Gina: I love this line and may steal it to use on people in the future.
Me: Yeah… this is really starting to seem pointed. Although not wrong.
15. don’t get a boner challenge
Gina: Oh my gosh, I wish this was a reality show. In general I don’t watch much reality TV but I would totally make an exception in this case. Can you say “ratings landslide”?
Me: I challenge every man around me to this every day. Your move, amigos. (Jk, that’s totally egotistical.)
16. the only package I want this Christmas is yours
Gina: Hahaha… this is so immature and awesome. I would use it on my husband but since he’s Russian, the humor would probably be lost on him. I would have to explain the slang meaning of “package”. If I said this exact phrase to him he’d think I was saying that I was looking forward to HIS Christmas gift the most. Sometimes it sucks to be married to a spouse whose first language isn’t English.
Me: Bahaha, people are excellent.
17. you give my middle finger an erection
Gina: Love this! Again, it’s immature but I love it. This comment stands on its own. I can add nothing more to it.
Me: Yeah, me neither.
18. I don’t give a fuck god sent me to piss the world off
Gina: I know SO MANY people who seem to subscribe to this belief. I think it may be a true statement. Thanks God. (Note—this person is also a likely Asshole Award recipient).
Me: I love that Eminem lyrics come to my blog. “Stop the tape! this kid needs to be locked away! DR.DRE, DON’T JUST STAND THERE, OPERATE!!!”
19. rape sloth birthday
Gina: Well, I’m pretty sure that this is the first time in the history of the world that these three words have been grouped together. I can’t even hazard a guess at what the person was searching for. Do they want to rape a sloth? Is it a sloth’s birthday? This makes my brain hurt.
Me: Ahhhh, readers. Did I tell you how much I love you already? Because I can’t stress that enough.
20. thank you for being the piss in my pants
Gina: This could be the inside sentiment of the worst Valentine’s Day card ever. Or depending on your sense of humor, perhaps the BEST Valentine’s Day card ever. Ugh, I’m thinking of those people with the “Golden Shower” fetish. Yeah, those people would love that card.
Me: You are quite welcome. Excellent insult, by the way.
(Because people actually read my nonsense and everyone is awesome. I love you all.)
Thank you so much Not Another Tall Blog for nominating me for this award! I’m so grateful <3 She’s awesome and funny so check her out!!
Here are the five rules to follow:
1. Thank the blogger who nominated you, linking back to their site.
2. Put the Award logo on your blog.
3. Answer the ten questions sent to you.
4. Make up ten new questions for your nominees to answer.
5. Nominate seven blogs.
1. How long have you been blogging for?
Since this past August. Almost 6 months I guess… (You can read my first-ever post here.)
2. As trivial as this may sound, why do you blog?
Because talking to myself was getting weird and unfulfilling haha. But also because I wanted to for a while and my dad said I’d never do it, so I was all, “Fuck you, I’m totally doing it.” And now here we are.
3. Is there anything in particular that you would like to achieve with your blog?
Maybe some networking and hopefully more people reading it. But mostly just being able to write somewhere other than my journal and making new friends which has been probably the best part of this whole experience.
4. Do you “do” blogger awards? If yes, what do they mean to you? If not, why not?
I did one before (read it here), and I keep getting nominated for another one but I haven’t written the post yet because I’m a terrible procrastinator. But I think awards are really awesome and a great way to support each other in the blogging world. It’s always nice to get praise or recognition for your work, and even if it’s small, it feels good to know someone likes what you’re doing. I’m always grateful for the nominations. :)
5. Is there anything that your followers don’t know about you, which you would really like them to know?
I’m not sure if there’s anything they don’t know about me (that I’d want to share). Maybe only that they’re awesome and I truly appreciate every follow, like, and comment. Even if I don’t always respond or if I don’t post for a while, I appreciate all of you guys and I’m glad you’ve stuck around for all my bullshit. <3
6. What does the “sisterhood” cause mean to you?
Well, my mind immediately jumps to traveling pants, but I’d say a group of badass ladies who support each other. Solidarity and feminism an all that. Lol.
7. Can you share with other bloggers a good practice that works well for you (e.g., a “tip”)?
I think the best thing is networking any way you can. Twitter, Facebook, whatever. Anything that will get out your site and allow you to interact with other bloggers. That’s important, too. You’ve gotta communicate with your readers.
8. Is there anything that you are particularly proud of as a blogger?
Probably getting interviewed on Opticynicism. That was a fun experience and they’re cool people.
9. Do you tend to read other blogs, or do you prefer to concentrate just on maintaining yours?
I try to read as many as possible and always try to check out my followers to see what they’re writing. It sucks because I don’t always have the time to do it or to read all the people I want but if I have the time, I’ll read as many as I can.
10. Does blogging require any sacrifices from you?
Maybe a little bit of my time but it’s not really a sacrifice. I love doing this and I’d totally do it all day if I could. I wish I could share my blog with more people I know in real life, but I don’t want to offend anyone or let my grandmom see my terrible cursing haha.
My Questions For The Nominees:
1. How you feeling today? What’s new in your life?
2. What’s your favorite thing to write/blog about?
3. Is there anything you wish you could write about but you can’t because of propriety or other stuff like that?
4. What’s your “life’s dream”? Like, if you could achieve or do ANYTHING in the world, what would it be?
5. What would you want to achieve with your blog, if anything?
6. Why did you start blogging in the first place?
7. Have you ever been in love? If so, tell your story. If not, describe your perfect love-scenario.
8. What are some of your favorite posts of all time?
9. What’s your favorite and least favorite thing about blogging?
10. What made you want to write? (And by that I mean any type of writing, not just blogging or whatever.)