Something that everybody looks forward to in the fall is sweater weather. That time of the year when you strip yourself of your loosely fitted shorts and tanks tops, and put on your regular, year-round wardrobe. It’s always such a pleasant, wonderful surprise to start wearing your favourite clothes again, only to discover that you’ve gained a lot of weight over the summer season.
My sneezes will occasionally leave a horrible taste in my mouth. My own personal theory is that there is something vile deep down inside of my body. I’m sure that WebMD would argue that I have diabeetus.
I understand that bars make their money by selling alcoholic beverages, but don’t bartenders make their money by serving drinks? I am human, and occasionally after a particularly dehydrating drink, I will request a water. For some reason, many bartenders seem to have a ‘no-tipping’ policy for this practice, because even though they’ve just served me a drink, they refuse my money. It’s like, my cash is not good enough for them. I don’t know. It’s a very strange business practice, and it often makes me feel uncomfortable and unwelcomed. Is it supposed to be a kind gesture? Or are they telling me to get out of their bar? I just wish that they loved tips as much as I love water.
Anonymous said: You're so beautiful.
I read through all of my messages, but I don’t often reply to the anonymous ones because there is no way to respond directly to the person who sent it. I’m not really a fan of posting asks, unless I feel like they contribute to this blog. Messages seem like a private thing to me. So, I wouldn’t want to bore my readers by posting small talk conversations, especially with anons.
It’s always nice to get an inbox notification. I might even have a theory on who some of my regular anons are, with their differentiated writing styles and affinity towards replying towards certain topics. But, for anyone who compliments me on my appearance/ soul, I always feel like it can only be one person. Only because, one time they actually messaged me and confessed. If this isn’t you, then I am perplexed.