I've come to the realization that I have a bit of an obsession with permanence. I am a hoarder of memories and objects that may have some semblance of meaning to them. This includes anything from clothes to pieces of ribbon, to myself. I, like everyone else, fear the inevitability of being forgotten. So, why not blog about it? My Sims are all asleep, I've got nothing else to do.

I like order and lists and despite being a mess, both inside and out, there's nothing I love more than a summary of what I'm about to get into. Yelp is my number one bookmark and I don't go anywhere without checking what the parking situation is like first and whether or not they have a cash only policy. I mother my anxieties and they thank me for it.

I'm not entirely sure what will happen here, but I know it'll be a lot of me blabbing about fashion and maybe relationships and my insecurities and how I cried at a Reddit article that showed the first and last photos of peoples pets. That shit is too much, I am too fragile of a string bean to handle that. So, expect shitty iPhone picture or shittier stock photos and a bit of blurbage. You like that word, blurbage? Yeah, me too.