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WOW. I swear the hardest thing to write, ever, in the history of blogging, is your first line after being back from a Tumblr-blog-hiatus. The following thoughts go through my head, as I think about what clever way I can start my post (read in my voice for added effect): 

  • Damn, I haven’t written anything in so fucking long, now once I do write something, the first line has to be so good so that people think I’m still interesting and not like everyone else. Why else would anyone read anyone else’s blog anyway right?
  • Fuck. I really wanna say something along the lines of “After much contemplation, I realized that…”, but that just sounds so basic. That sounds like you’re that average blogger who only writes shit down when they have an epiphany or mind fuck.
  • Maybe I shouldn’t have gone with these bullet things. It’s kind of new for me. Now by the time you get done with the bullets you’d think that I’d have at least one really funny, witty thought, but no. I don’t. Sorry!!!

Is it just me, or do you guys ever like, write a really special post for yourself, and hope that nobody reads it, but deep down you want the complete opposite? And want everyone to read it and think “well that’s a great written A+ blog I am gonna have to spend time out of my day to read everything he writes from now on!”? I know it’s not just me! Haha.

Well I will warn you now that I’m gonna go off into the whole reminiscent tangent of blogging. Where you talk about how you miss the way things used to be. But anyway I miss life before bills and my career and having to work to live. One thing I’m starting to realize (OH OKAY SO HEARS THE EPIPHANY PART LOL) is that I actually stop to think about my life after I’ve done some grown up shit. 

Here are the grown up shit things I do that make me think, “well Ivan, look at you! Working and paying for your own shit now! Now go buy some stock and invest and save up for a house one day, so that you can prove to society that you made it. Wow. Look at you. Go have a beer. You earned it”: 

  • Post-grocery shopping, like after all the groceries are put away and I’m watching TV and scratching my balls.
  • Paying for random house shit, like buying a carpet for the dining room, or buying lightbulbs for my fancy living room lamp.
  • Also looking at random house shit at Bed Bath & Beyond and thinking, “wow I could really use that at home”. And then buying it and thinking the whole “yay I made it in life, I bought a fucking ____ so my ____ and my ____ don’t ever ____”.
  • Paying for lunch/dinner and buying random shit for my parents.
  • Stressing out that I didn’t get all of my weekend errands done Sunday night and thinking “FUCK THIS ISN’T GETTING DONE TIL SATURDAY, guess I can’t get fucked up on Friday night or else I’ll have a painful hangover that’ll last all day and guilt trip me into thinking I’m a failure to myself”.
  • Eating breakfast. Sitting down and drinking coffee (without work/errands or anything else going on)

Well okay I think I’m done for the day. Gonna go enjoy the rest of the zombie-esque work week that is M-F-9-5. Then try to get my life back together over the weekend. Then repeat. And also, add in a little fun in between. Quality time with good people, exercising, and new adventures (hopefully, I tend to like to just stay home these days. fuck).



my friend told me to watch this cooking video while listening to sad music. so i mixed a little something for you all

this actually fucking makes me cry and laugh at the same time holy shit

(Source: spookyandthethief)

I thought I’d write

a lil sumpin sumpin. Remeber those good ol’ days where people used to write shit? Now all I get to see on my dash is a bunch of fuckin cool gifs and pics and memes and shit. I guess that’s cool too. Kind of a good trade-off.

It’s almost been a year since I graduated and sometimes I think I’m living the life that I never wanted to have post-college. The whole thing about being stuck in a M-F-9-5 grind and making money but not doing what you really want to be doing. Or doing something that you don’t love. Then again, how many of us are lucky enough to be able to fully support our lifestyles without sacrificing something? Uh huh. 

I can’t complain. Sometimes I want to. Like now. But when I count my blessings it starts to put things into perspective. Maybe I have to be in the career field I’m in, so that I’m able to raise and support my own family someday. Fucking weird thinking about that shit. I just hope that I don’t end up working so damn much that my kids are gonna barely know who I am and rebel every chance that they get. *Cue typical suburban family with a dog named Max, a teenager who’s hiding smoking cigarettes from his/her parents, a wife that feels unappreciated after cooking and cleaning all day, and then the father who’s worked 10 hours, gets home and just wants to eat, drink a beer, and watch sports.* Fuck. I don’t know how I got off on such a tangent but whatever.

Til next time!

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