Whenever I can't think of a post title, I always just want to write "your mother"

It is time for me to move the eff out. But I'm twenty-three years old and poor, even though I work two jobs, because I do not pay attention to the way I spend my money, because I hate trying to figure out money. I always have enough for bills and crap--even extra--but I don't have enough to move out. And then if I had to pay rent every month! I wouldn't be able to go out drinking every weekend! Um, maybe I don't need to do that? Whatever. I should really save this Bath & Body Works Christmas money, and then maybe I can start looking at apartments. And if Mike would just manage to get his car back, we could start saving and looking at apartments together! I don't think I would want to live by myself, even with Charles Wallace to keep me company on the cold, lonely nights. But it would be fun to live with Mike. He cleans! I hate cleaning. Although, if we're gonna live together, we might as well just get married. We already unfortunately act like a straight couple (just, you know, without the sex).

Ew, gross. Now that I can actually marry a girl in this state, I'm not wasting marriage on a guy. Even though he did propose yesterday, via text message, and I did accept. But I say text message proposals don't count. What do you say?

Oh my god, I forgot to DVR Project Runway last night, because of course I was at work at ten o'clock. But I am trying to boycott TV until the TV writers' strike is settled. It's just hard, because Runway is finally back! Sigh. Maybe I'll just boycott network television. Maybe those greedy producer assholes should just give the writers deserved compensation for the use of their creative output. What a fuckin' radical idea. Can you even believe that writers want to be paid when their work is used in formats other than television broadcasts? How dare they ask for such an outrageous thing. I can't believe they don't get paid for things like iTunes episode downloads. And you can watch entire episodes of television streaming online, and they don't see anything from that, despite the fact that what they wrote is being used. Why are rich people so fucking greedy? Like these corporations can't afford to pay writers. Gah. Anyway, at the very least, I have stopped watching Grey's Anatomy online at work, because that is easy enough.

Okay, I'm sorry, I know I never stop, but can I just take a moment for this?
Thank you. Because, y'all, the only thing that got me through four hours of slinging lotion boxes at work last night was singing "Silver Cloud" in my head. Also, that picture slays me.

Here's another reason why I do actually hate country music: that song "I Hope You Dance." It's the worst song ever, and back in the summer of 2000 when I was taking driver's ed, I heard it all the time, because my weirdo driver's ed instructor listened to (southern) New Hampshire's only country station, and how I did not drive us all off the road ever remains a mystery to me. Evil! That song and all the music they play on that station (99.5?) is evil! Good night!