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I’m on this stupid health kick, which is pointless and lame, because I’m a masochist and hate myself.

I got a Nutribullet for Christmas and they insist that if you have a “blast” aka spinach water for breakfast everyday, you will feel fantastic. They forgot to mention that you will also immediately shit your pants.

Today, I’ve had carrot sticks, apple slices, a hardboiled egg, and a tofu salad. Needless to say I’m in a terrible mood because I’m STARVING. How do people juice for an entire day?

If I could get paid to write inappropriate, self-depreciating jokes, sample red wines and play with puppies that would be ideal. #crisis #hireme #whatismylifedoing #cryforhelp

I know this is “so last year” but I just started watching American Horror Story Coven and I think I’m going to throw up/go buy more black clothes/stay in bed all day.

I’m having one of those days where I am too lazy to do anything productive. Instead of actually going to the gym, I decided that looking at pictures of work out routines and healthy food on Pinterest will do. Pinning photos of kale salads, while eating a bowl of pasta in my sweatpants. I feel like that has to be some sort of metaphor for my life right now. I’ll probably get bored of pinning food at some point, so I’ll switch it up and look at handsome televison stars with their shirts off for awhile, and then potentially take a nap. Naturally, after a nap it will be time to eat again, and then I’ll kill the time between my nap and going to bed with a good 4-hours of binge-watching Top Chef and Project Runway. This is the life.

I found it only fitting to write my first post while nursing a hangover. I’m currently at Albina Press trying to act like a normal person, while chugging a $2.75 sparkling water and trying not to rub my face too much.

I went to soul night at the Eagles lodge yesterday. It happens every first Friday on 49th and Hawthorne thanks to DJ Cooky Parker and this fantastic “Bouncer” who is an old man with a cowboy hat, a bluetooth and a sassy attitude. I both like him/fear him because he always catches me with my drink on the dance floor which is a pretty big no-no for the old Eagletonians. They are in fact, really old, but man can they make a stiff greyhound.

Soul night at the Eagles lodge is my favorite thing on Earth because the place looks like a 50’s high school prom complete with, you guessed it, Eagle memorabilia everywhere. I also happen to really like soul music because as a white lanky girl, who is awkward with her body on most occasions, it’s pretty easy music to dance too. You just kind of jostle yourself around the dance floor and you don’t even have to move your legs and arms at the same time if you don’t want to. It’s perfect.

Last night was especially pleasant for me. I don’t know if it was my polka dot crop top or my side pony tail but the fellas were digging it, and I got to participate in some consensual groping on the dance floor. Thanks “Tony?”

Of course I have no photos of me grind dancing to Buddy Holly or flailing around onstage like an intoxicated ex-Rockette to prove to you that this, in fact happened. You will just have to take my word for it that I actually got out of my Urban Outfitters sweatpants, set down the ol’ needlepoint and did something cool this weekend. Here’s a pre-event side pony and crop top photo for reference.