Going back to my roots

But why do I feel this way?


Trying to squeeze the sin out of my body before my trip to Paris, London and Scotland. I'm so excited for the UK holy fuck. So many things to snap pictures of and see and feel and absorb and watch. People are beautiful there, and even more so in their fashion and mannerisms in the sweet little City of Lights. How romantic. Mom, the true romance-novella fanatic, of course is all jittery about Scotland. It's a mysterious part of the UK for me... which means my knowledge of geography and history in that parts is pretty non-existant. Alls I know is that my future housemate is part Scottish, and he did an amazingly adorable accent for me before I left Guelph. Cute cute cute dork cute dork cute.

I want to hug youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu. And smoke. That is all.

Fuck me without Marlboros for 3 weeks let's see how irritable I'll be when I come home.

The Real L word

Clicketttt.
Interesting first eppie to blow your sleepless nights over.

I think commitment makes me nervous. Basically I hate making myself vulnerable. I always put walls up because I'm nervous that someone will change their mind or pull out. And I don't wanna get hurt, I don't wanna be exposed.