♫ (a favorite song) -
✘ (a secret) - I only moved to New York to be able to say that I lived in New York at one point in my life.
☀ (a wish) - I wish I could have a cup of coffee with Mark Strickson. I don’t care how boring he’s supposed to be; I will spot the conversation with inescapable awkwardness by mentioning how damn fine he looked in a Speedo every three to five sentences.
☠ (a bad memory) - The night before Mini Megacon in 2009. I legitimately worked from four in the afternoon until seven the next morning, and half-way through the night had the biggest fucking fright of my life when the police knocked on my door at four in the morning, never announced that they were actually the police, and then proceeded to walk all around my house shining flashlights and LASER POINTERS into all of my windows. I called the police on the police. Yes, I am that hardcore.
ツ (a good memory) - Spending my seventeenth birthday at Disney World and having the man working the Big Thunder Mountain ride hold up the entire line to sing happy birthday to me.
✦ (a random fact) - I love to dance but I’m cursed with terrible, baby fawn-esque ungracefulness. I still try when no one is watching, though.
I look like poop in the pictures, but idgaf c:
DEAR GOD, I’M SUCH AN AWKWARD TURTLE, I LOVE IT.
HE GAVE ME A FREE FAKKU PIN TOO, JUST FOR GOING ON FAKKU, I LOVE BEING A LOSER. <3
Reblogging this for Largehotcoffee. I think you’ll appreciate it.
wool·gath·er·ing / wool-gath-er-ing / Noun.
1. Indulgence in idle fancies and in daydreaming; absentmindedness: “His woolgathering was a handicap in school.”