I truly am the world’s worst blogger. However, I’m quickly becoming the world’s best employee. It's nice, to have a job from which I can come home and do nothing. I walk out my workplace, and the place ceases to exist until the next morning. I love it. Until the next morning, that is. I don’t love that it makes it harder to find time with Mr. Flirt, who’s usually busy when I get off work. He spent most of his time, this past week, asking me if I was alive. It’s funny; after months we are still utterly unable to have a complete, coherent phone conversation. We suck at it. He called me sometime back and listening to our conversations you’d think I’d never have spoken to a boy before. After we hang up I’d immediately think of lots of fun things to discuss. I hate the friggin phone. I have, however, come to love texting. I love how punctuations and words typed a certain way can tell you so much about the person.
Health has been on my mind for weightier reasons than too-tight tops that are starting to show my very obvious tummy bulge; I turned 25 recently. While 24 allowed me to evade the issue in my head, there’s no denying it now: I’m in my MID TWENTIES. 30 – gasp – is just around the corner. Yes, I know, 30 is the new 20, blah blah blah. I don’t feel bad about aging in general. There are only two milestones I have yet to meet on my very vague life plan, albeit big ones: to meet someone strikingly marvelous, and to own a Victorian house. I’m hard at work on the former, and hoping that might enable the latter, although after many years of staying with folks I’d be willing to settle for a rickety little house as long as I can paint the walls anything other than white. Other than that, I have a healthy appetite, a great job, a masters and a great bunch of friends. I think it’s going ok, but I reserve the right to freak the fuck out on Mondays, regardless.
Behold! Eve raves unabated, and in the wake of her weekly excitement, she is left with no recourse but to unleash some of the best tunes here today!! Tremble, ye mortals, for the streetwise devourer of melody hath commanded you, reader, to click on the player below that will generate which man doth call Music!
So it is written… So it shall be done!!!
Oh and if you have any questions, comments, or just want to talk about what an outrightly pretty post I've put up, feel free to leave a comment or shoot me an email.
