These Simple Truths

Me right now:

So Alyssa and I made it to our hostel after 25 mins of walking. Not bad. So went to the reception and told them we were checking in. So they found Alyssa, but not me. What the fuck? No, sorry, but I made this reservation about a month ago. You should have it. We made it at the same time. I told him this, minus the profanity, and he calls the owner. She tells me something that I couldn’t really make out due to the fact of her Italian accent and she spoke really fast. Now normally that wouldn’t be a probably, but add that strong accent and yes it is. I kept getting told that instead of paying what Alyssa was paying I would have to pay more regardless of the fact that I made a reservation. I showed the guy and he didn’t look it up to see if I was in the system or anything. No, what is your fucking job then? Could you find my reservation please? Then another thing that really pisses me off is when I telly ou how to pronounce my last name, please fucking pronounce it correctly. I had to correct him like 3984934839284 times because he kept getting it wrong. it’s really not that hard. So I had to pay 24 euros instead of the 18 I was supposed to pay. I am so livid and then when I went to sign the paper thing, he guys asks me, “Oh are you mad?” and then he laughed. It took everything I had to not punch him in the face. Now I understand that it’s not really his fault, but seriously, learn how to do your fucking job. Oh and to put the icing on the cake, this hostel has no fucking towels. Seriously??? What the fuckkkkkk?

Do you know what really pisses me off the most about people who find out that I am an English major? I get asked all the time if I “read a book today?” Yes you uncultured swine, I do read almost everyday. Contrary to popular belief, they are not for my class. Do I get assigned books for class? Yes. Do I read them? Yes. I do not however get the privilege of sitting down everyday doing nothing but read books. That’s not the reason I’m an English major. There is more to it than reading books.

Am I the only one who finds it annoying when you’re not dating a guy but he calls you terms of endearment? It might just be me, but I usually mostly likely 89% of the time save those for when we are dating.

I just wanted to say that simple thing.

You know what I really suck at, as a writer? Describing motherfucking colours. akdjhfgas;dkfhjlkdsfkljsfjkfjkfkjlsdflkjkdjffjkld I know that sounds odd, but I can’t fucking do it. This fucking sucks.

I forgot my jeans had never been washed and I threw them in with the darks and then my orange tanks were somehow mixed in with them and the FUCKING COLOURS ran. Now my orange tanks are now a fucking salmon colour and I just

And to add the icing on the motherfucking shit cake, my favorite bra, which makes my boobs look fabulous fucking shitstick fucking broke.

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As many of you know, I lost my uncle this summer. It was the worst thing to happen to me, I couldn’t see a life without his constant support. When I was told the news, I never quite processed it until much later. I never really hit me, I never really cried until I was driving to band practice and I heard Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World. I had to pull my car over on Rt. 1 because all I heard was this line, “A song for a heart so big, God wouldn’t let it live.” My uncle died due to his heart actually being too big and pumping too much blood, or something along those lines, I never got the full details.

Not only did I lose an Uncle, but my Aunt lost her soul mate. Christmas was quieter this year without him. We always had those parties because he loved that time of the year. I’ve missed him so much and it hurts. I know I joke about everything hurting, but this time, everything actually does.

I know it’s been 8 months, but my heart still hurts. I think in a way that this is what drives me to do what I do. It’s because I’d like to think that he’s proud of me. He’s proud of me for studying in England, he’s proud of me for writing and following my dreams.

Sometimes though, if I listen closely I can still hear him say, “Hey kiddo, chin up. You’re doing great.” It gives me hope in some small way.

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FUYCK THIS FUCKING PAPER

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IT IS SO FUCKING STUPID

I DONT REALLY GIVE A FUCKING FYUCK ABOUT THIS FUCKING PAPER

ITS NOT EVEN GRADED SO WHY THE FUCK AM I DOING THIS

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