This isn't a real blog post so don't expect richly detailed prose about the intricacies of undergraduate life in Los Angeles. Well, who am I kidding. Don't expect an overshare of information about personal grooming or vague and possibly drunken rambling about obsolete television shows.
Anyway this is just a quick drive-by to say I'm probably going to be leaving this world soon and farewell, blog. You were good to me for the half year I had you and I hope that when I'm gone someone awesome hacks into you and pretends to write as me, as if I had never died, and it freaks out the people who read you (all eight of them), because they went to my funeral and I was in the casket damnit and so who is this proclaiming their love of bargain hunting on you?
But on the off chance I survive midterm season (this year featuring papers, massive reading, two presentations and two exams all crammed into two fun-filled consecutive days) and the fact that I haven't gone grocery shopping in over a week and am not above eating whatever is in the back of the fridge, don't be offended if you don't get an invitation to a funeral. Because I probably made it. Or whatever.
Anyway, my being on blogger at all is totally Meema's fault because I should be slaving over homework that makes me want to cry blood so that I can show my bloody-teardrop-stained-papers to my professors and say "LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE" but I can't control what my tears are made of, apparently, so I'm here instead because of a conversation I had with Meema:
[Meema]: a lot of work to do?
me: just kill me
[Meema]: but then who will write my favorite personal blog :/
me: you're just saying that
[Meema]: no I'm not
[Meema]: yours is the favorite of mine of people I actually know
[Meema]: and ones that are about their own lives in general
[Meema]: well it's between you and this graduate-school educated escort who writes about crying during yoga and the rich men she services
I think I've just been complimented, people.
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