This honestly makes no sense but I'm too lazy to edit it: A memoir.

One of the guys I work with is convinced we are supposed to be in love. He is a good looking, perfectly normal, hilarious guy and I just want to shake him and be like, You are a fool! I am fucking crazy. Run away. but instead I continue to let him think I'm normal and perfect and overly enjoy the fact that he talks about how I would be the perfect girlfriend or jokes about how amazing I am and how well we would go together all the time. He will learn....or he wouldn't. Oh well, poor thing.

Anyway.

Last night I had the most brilliant idea.

I had plans to go and stay with a friend in Midtown but instead of bringing my purse, I would simply bring my house keys, $2.50 for a train ticket to said friends house and my workout gear. Then in the morning I would have no option but to run all the way home, and collect my other clothes later.

This morning I was so pissed I decided to do that.

It took everything in my power to not beg anybody who would listen for enough money to get home, or to simply jump the turnstiles but alas, I sucked it up.

Past Jordyn and I are no longer talking...but honestly it is probably for the best because what kind of sane person has casual chats with their past self.

Lucky for Present Jordyn (or I guess she too is now past Jordyn...how meta) I got home by 10am and had a few hours to simply lay about on my roof getting my bronze slightly less white on.

Now, bone to pick because I'm very mad about a recent development. The other day I woke up to the smell of fresh cut grass, and it honestly confused the heck out of me because this is New York City, there isn't exactly an abundance of grass laying around. A few hours later whilst wandering around my bedroom casually naked, I realized they had cut down the tree outside my window that kept me safe from my creepy neighbor. I hung a sheet up in front of my window to stop him from watching me change but I can't exactly sun tan in a tent, so he has full view of me sunbathing....the joys of urban living. I have named him Harold and sometimes I wave just so he knows it's real.

Also, big ups to this lame bronzing something something intensifier something and this lame Kiwi Strawberry concoction. One, for making me as bronze as some tan ass koala or whatever kind of lies you tell me because damn it I am Australian, I shouldn't need this stuff and the other for being 99c. 

Now on a completely unrelated topic, I am quite fond of this graffiti. Mainly because I see it whenever I'm on my roof which only happens in the summer and even though I forget about it most of the year when I see it I'm like,

Ah, here we are again. Wow has it been a whole year since last summer?....Another year is gone. Oh my god, what have I done with my life in the last 12 months. Oh my god....oh my god....oh wait, roof says relax. Thanks Roof Graffit, I almost panicked there. 

 This other graffiti I found today also spoke to me....it was a little more hostile.

Procrastination Station.

I got up and ready early with strict mental instructions that today I was going to get things done! So far I've only managed to cross off actually removing myself from my bed, dragging myself to a cafe and sitting here with my pal Vonnegut. Honestly, pathetic effort!

Things that I actually planned on doing today-

Hunting for cheap acrylic paints.
New York is lovely because everything is close and easy to find...it's not so lovely in that everything is fancy and expensive. 

Finding a new journal/notebook.
I spend 94% of my day just writing things down. Lists, reminders, notes, goals, dreams ect because of this and the fact that I'm exceptionally good at losing things, I need a new notebook. My current one is one I'm almost positive I stole from my youngest brother on accident, and I say "almost positive" because it says property of Declan Turner on the front...my bad. 

Running.
I hate the gym, mainly because I hate creepy men and brolic assholes, and that is who seems to adore the gym. But I have come to really like running outside! Preferably when it's dusk and slightly raining...I'm picky. 

Going to my school to swear at the lady in the Student Services office.
It's honestly becoming one of my favorite past times at this point.

Finding a new perfume.
Whenever I end a relationship with a boy I always have to buy a new perfume due my to memory being so closely connected to my sense of smell. Some of my favorite scents have been ruined by this very thing! Flowerbomb? Ruined by a rapper. DKNY Golden Delicious? A cop.  Burberry London? A Slovakian. It's time for Marc Jacobs Honey to walk that same lonely road to forgotten. 

Getting passport photos taken.
It's a good thing I decided to just not do anything with my hair today. 

Hunting for a new memoir.
I recently finished Her by Christa Parravani and I loved it, it's essentially a story of a girl (Christa...duh) who loses her twin sister after battle of depression and drugs and how she copes going from a bonded duo to a singular being. Memoirs are my absolute favorite type of book from light hearted more comedic ones (a'la Bossy Pants by Tina Fey) to the more intense and raw (a'la The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby). 

Writing at least another 20 pages of my book.
It's a love hate thing. When it's 3am in the morning and I'm exhaustedly tired, I can type away like there is no tomorrow. When I'm wide awake, fed and happy? Crickets I tell you.

Things I'm probably going to end up doing-

Sitting here for the next couple of hours? Before relocating to possibly my bed, possibly my friends bed or possibly happy hour.

I'm the worst.