first-world problems

My parents care about me. I know that. They want the best for me, and I know that too. They don't mean any harm when they scold or yell or lecture me, and I realize that.
And yet, even with all of these realizations, it's hard for us to communicate, and I know most out of all of this that this is as much my fault as it is theirs.

saturday

Outline of my day, because I'm far too tired to write a full-on text post:

• Woke up in the morning and cleaned my room. 
• Went to SFO at noon to pick up old family friends from Massachusetts
• Talked to family friend about her experience as a clinical psychiatry researcher at Harvard
• Ate dinner at Fatima's 
• Bought a total of six PMTs from TapEx, felt like a fatass carrying all of those bags back to the restaurant
• Went to Santana Row and stared at dogs. Did not enter a single shop except for Mai Do, and that doesn't even sell clothing
• Bought gifts for family friend's sons.
• Stood in line for Pinkberry
• Bought a total of 8 small froyos. Felt like a fatass carrying four bags of frozen yogurt around.
• Came home and legs hurt like crazy.
• Caught up with two old buddies.
• "Busty Poser"
• This is such a damn boring post. I'll rewrite it later.

story of my life

I'm much too lazy to actually add anything to this blog for now, so have a comic instead. 

So. A New Blog.

* I wrote this over a year ago, when I first started trying out the concept of blogging strictly on my own terms. In some ways, I suppose it still applies. While I'd feel incredibly stupid if I ever wrote anything with so many digressions again, at the very least, I love how I was so unafraid to let my personality shine through in this entry.