• I’m feeling slightly dizzy and I don’t know why. 
  • My two sisters are sleeping in my parents’ room, so they’re basically having a family sleepover. My mom invited me to sleep over also, and share the bed with her and my dad. She was joking, but I felt a tinge of seriousness, which is strange. Parents, huh.
  • I firmly believe that a guy should be able to tell a girl that he likes her or is interested in her. It’s not easy, but it really should not be that ridiculously difficult. I think that being able to come to terms with your feelings is a pretty important attribute to have.
  • I was watching these videos just now about these guys who teach other “less secure” guys to confidently approach girls and ask them for their number/try to kiss them/try to actually take them home.
  • Not really sure how I feel about that. It’s important to have confidence, but come on. There was this poor kid who did what he was told, and then he kissed some girl, and it was his first kiss. Like, jesus christ. I’m sure he was thrilled, since the dude was probably at least 20, but I don’t know. Having your first kiss be some rando girl on the streets of LA? 
  • Also, the whole concept that they run a boot camp to get with girls…can’t say I approve.
  • I only have one week of work left, and I am incredibly pumped. I have been enjoying it less and less, and now there’s a fly problem so obviously I’m jumping ship at a prime time. I swear, once I leave, the marketing girl’s “productivity” is literally going to be cut in half, and they’re all going to be wondering why her performance has dramatically dipped. Sup.
  • There’s this attitude that I feel around me a lot - and it goes something along the lines of “it’s okay to fuck up because I’m young and I should make mistakes.” And while I agree that genuinely good hearted mistakes are crucial to anyone’s self-development, I also believe that actively choosing to make a bad decision is not okay. There’s a difference between learning from mistakes and actively choosing to make bad decisions. In one case people go in with good intentions, while in the other, people go in looking for an excuse to do fucked up shit. Is it really “fucking up” if you’re consciously choosing to do so?


The office I work in is currently being molested by fruit flies, which brings me back to the research project I did in my sophomore year of high school. 

Basically, a close friend and I were studying the effects that consuming alcohol (ethanol) would have on longevity, and because school research programs are crap, the only real animal that we’re allowed to test on are fruit flies. When we presented the reason for using fruit flies in our experiment, we list all these scientific reasons like oh, did you know fruit flies and humans share, like, 60% of the same DNA? Oh, did you know that fruit flies and humans react in the same exact way to alcohol, with dizziness and impaired vision? Oh, did you know that the complicated neurosignaling pathways in fruit flies closely represent that in humans? Thus, fruit flies are a fantastic model on which to run this experiment.

But no, the real reason is just that school research programs are shit, and that fruit flies are pretty much the highest point on the evolution ladder that we’re allowed to test on. 

So we kept these fruit flies in 5-inch vials, and every week or so, we’d have to transfer them from old vials to new vials - because the food at the bottom would get hard and stale. Fruit flies reproduce at a ridiculous rate, so you can easily go from having 20 fruit flies in the vial one week to 100 fruit flies the next week, to a swarming black cloud of death flying around in your vial the week after that. 

Typical of my friend and I, we hadn’t transferred this particular vial for at least three weeks, so it was due time. There were a lot of flies inside. Understatement. When you transfer flies, you do this thing where you thump the vial on a table, causing all of the flies inside to fall on the bottom, giving you just enough time to remove the lid, place the fresh vial on top, flip the vials, and thump them into the new vial. 

I think this is the first time I’ve transferred flies, so I’m a bit shaken up at the sight of moving 500+ fruit flies raging in a 5 inch container. I work up the nerves to start, and I start thumping the vial as my friend says “Go!”, and pulls off the sponge lid. He quickly covers it with the new vial, but there’s leakage. About 30 or so flies get out, which is normal, but that was just too much for me to handle at this point in my young life. I drop the vial (rookie mistake), then proceed to scream at the black fruit-fly-exodus of hell that rises up, and scram the fuck out of the room.

We are still close friends. And the research room always had a fly problem anyway. 

So, do it. Decide. Is this the life you want to live? Is this the person you want to love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? Kinder? More Compassionate? Decide. Breathe in. Breathe out and decide

- Meredith Grey (via creatingaquietmind)

(Source: whilde-daisi, via creatingaquietmind)

The biggest of hump days

I woke up this morning and determined pretty much immediately that I was not going to be okay at work today. I slept a decent amount last night, 6 and a half hours ish, but my entire body was sore and aching and my eyes burned when I opened them. There was that. I only played basketball for about 30 minutes yesterday, so I’m a bit lost as to why I feel this way.

Besides that, the thought of having to spend another 8 hours doing mundane work around people who I don’t really know filled me with an immense amount of dread. I guess I decided I wanted to spend the day around my mom and sisters, and although I might not talk to them much, their presence has a calming effect on me. Cuz, ya know, family.

This Wednesday was not a hump day, or a bump day, or even a hill day. It was a fucking mountain day, and I was not prepared to scale over the top today. My mom was angry and disappointed and called me lazy, which are all fair perspectives on her end, I guess. Then she left with my two sisters so I woke up to an empty house. A pissed mom and disapproving family weren’t exactly what I was hoping to be around today, but I guess I’d still rather be here. 

They’re still gone so I guess I should start figuring out what to eat for lunch.

bring me back.

bring me back.


I think I was born in the wrong generation.

July 20, 2014

  • My shot is back.
  • I was looking through my old facebook messages for reminiscent purposes today, and I saw a couple of interesting ones that brought me back.
  • You and I had at least 50 straight messages of “hi” back and forth, spread out over the span of about two to three days. And now we don’t talk.
  • At the beginning of O-week, I remember walking to Cameron with you, and you broke the silence, looked at me with your big-ass eyes and asked: “Phil, are you going to drink in college?”
  • "No, I don’t think so." "Okay, good." 
  • July 18th, 2013: “I feel so broken.” 
  • "Phillyyy did you do the lab yet?" Now I remember why I turned facebook chat off for the majority of high school.
  • Two more weeks of work and then I’m done. 


story of the day: I was about to beat my flappy bird high score except I couldn’t because then the train conductor came by and I had to reach into my pocket so I tried switching hands and I lived for a little and I thought I could get my ticket and play at the same time but then I hit a pipe and died.

This is not a sarcastic message.

To the anon who sent me that message: you’re completely right. I don’t have any right to say that about other people. I’m sorry.

The lady sitting next to me on the train smells like old milk and has the most repulsive tattoos. I guess I find all tattoos repulsive.

Also, why is she sitting next to me? You don’t sit next to people on the LIRR - this is New York, please. Welcome to the best and least friendly state in the nation.




More Weird Al to get your morning started right: “Word Crimes”

A parody set to the tune of Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines”, this is the new anthem for your inner Grammar Nazi.

this is my favorite thing ever

This is amazing