Life, Rambles

THE SPRING BREAKER

It’s been like four days since I’ve last posted, and since last week I blogged three (?) times, I’m not ashamed to admit that I miss it. Which is a good thing, right? I’m trying to get into the habit of blogging regularly, not just when I’m in a spiral.

I’m on spreak (spring break, duh) and so I have a lot of free time. Obviously there are the parties and the club appearances, but those are fictional, so during the day I’m doing basically nothing. I have eaten spectacularly bad since being home, but I have gone to the gym twice. When I was home for Christmas break, I only went to the gym the last week out of like five weeks. So going to the gym two days in a row after being home three days isn’t that bad. Right? Super-fit? Super-handsome? Super-humble?

I started watching RuPaul’s Drag Race, and caught up on the first two episodes.

My sister: What did you do last night?

Me: I just watched TV. RuPaul.

My sister: (judging look) You would.

Me: How dare you.

Normally I find it very hard to keep up with RuPaul’s Drag Race, because the queens keep changing their outfits and I can never end up telling them apart or remembering which ones I like. However, this season I have fallen in love with one of the contestants. Her name is Pearl, and out of drag she is so unbelievably hot. Out of drag, her name is Matt—I’m getting so confused about gender pronouns—and he has a septum piercing and perfect hair and he’s so deadpan I love it. So it’s very compelling to watch although I wish that the entire thing were just him. He doesn’t even have to speak. If it were just gifs of him rolling his eyes for forty minutes, that would be fine by me.

I’m sitting in the sun on my couch, and the light is striking the computer screen and illuminating the grubby dustiness of my laptop. How charming. I’m also listening to Spotify and I can’t decide if I should get Spotify Premium or not. I really want endless music on my phone, because I’m not sure how much longer I can go on shuffle mode. Additionally, the “limited skips” business is really not designed for someone as flighty as me. I’m like a sex addict: I use a song for about thirty seconds and then I get bored with it and move onto the next one. I guess I didn’t really need to say the sex addict part, I could’ve just said the second half of the sentence. Live and learn.

A bunch of people I know are in Florida and part of me is jealous and part of me is just tired thinking about walking on sand and not having easy access to soft surfaces, aka my bed. So, in other words, I’m glad I’m just chilling at home.

*Listens to Kelly Clarkson’s new album*

I have a soft spot for Kelly Clarkson because I listened to her Stronger album constantly when I was traveling in France and Italy my junior year of high school. I have this very distinct memory of being on a train through the Swiss Alps and listening to “You Can’t Win,” and it was only a few months after I had come out of the closet, so it really was striking a homosexual chord with me. I realize how bourgeoisie this entire paragraph was. We can just not talk about it.

Also, Kelly Clarkson was on one of my favorite shows, “Who Do You Think You Are?” which is a NBC (an NBC?) show about celebrity genealogy. Did you know that Brooke Shields is descended from Italian and French nobility? Like her grandmother is an Italian princess. Gwyneth Paltrow is white Barbadian, which is…interesting. I really love genealogy. I think it’s so fascinating to trace back your family history, because you can literally see what your ancestors went through if they lived in certain areas at certain points in history. GENEALOGY ROX.

I literally have no segue from this. Can you believe that people think you spell segue as “Segway”? PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUCEMENT: A segue is a seamless transition between two sentences, paragraphs, ideas, etc. A Segway is what Paul Blart rides. Also, didn’t the creator of the Segway ride off a cliff accidentally?

Speaking of cliffs—did I just do a Segway segue—I saw someone’s Instagram of the Grand Canyon. I really want to go to the Grand Canyon. I literally can’t even fathom how big it must be. You know how people use “literally” hyperbolically? I’m not using it like that; I actually cannot fathom how big the Grand Canyon must be. Are there Medium-Grand Canyons? Like where is the “Ehh, I’ve Seen Bigger” Canyon? Or the “I Guess The Camera Adds On Ten Pounds” Canyon? I require justice for canyons of all sizes; not just the grand ones.

In other world news, I watched The Devil Wears Prada yesterday (Sunday) and I have decided two things. One: There is nothing on this earth that is more satisfying/draws more of an audience than the prospect of Anne Hathaway getting a makeover. Two: The Devil Wears Prada SHOULD have ended with Andrea accepting Miranda’s offer to be on her elite team and them doing a virgin sacrifice together. I literally love the section of the movie from Andy’s makeover to right before she quits for the last time. If I could reedit it, I would make that the entire movie, have Andy go over to the dark side and join Miranda for ritualistic magic. EVERYONE WANTS TO BE US, ANDREA. Everyone.

Apparently, nothing gets me as fired up or activist-y as The Devil Wears Prada. I’m betting the U.S. government wishes the American youth cared as much about world politics as I do about Miranda Priestly’s outfits. Like, we would literally be unstoppable. Again, not being hyperbolic.

I keep using the word “histrionic” in everyday conversation and I have a sneaking suspicion that my friends are getting tired of me saying it. They’re being so histrionic.

I have a fear that someday I’ll misuse a word and someone will call me out on it and all the carefully cultivated condescension I have towards everyone about grammar and English and vocabulary will crumble. I feel like that is very much an English major’s fear.

If I’m being honest, like an hour has gone by since I wrote the previous sentence. So I think that signifies that this post is done. It was awesome. You don’t need to say it.

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