my inaugural post was to be a review of my experience
getting a brazilian wax, but i decided that i wanted to skip my friday
appointments and enjoy my half-day off of work. instead, i offer a slightly
less interesting post regarding a very interesting thing that i do and love
doing (since, in reality, no one loves getting a brazilian).
i owe outrageous a
proper explanation.
a dear ex-boyfriend once told me that i have “too many
ideas.” the anxious self-hating me wondered (feared) at length if there could
there be such a thing as “too many ideas.” does this propensity for indulging
in every whim i feel like jumping into signify something (not a “someone;” you
become not-human when you have “too many ideas”) unworthy of human interaction?
after much of everything in the past year and a half, i have
come to an ultimate conclusion: there is no such thing as “too many ideas.”
