Bad Ass Mutha Fuckers

A fine way to begin the week is with yoga, a bowl of oatmeal, and a shower.

There are people in this world who would kill for me: sometimes I forget about that.

Thank you Nate Johnson, Rob Alderman, Josh Sundheim.

The OG's.

I entertained the idea of not going to Nate's wedding, but it passed quickly. I cannot imagine missing the happiest day of his life. I cannot imagine wanting to be anywhere else, because I can't imagine him being anywhere but at my wedding, if that day ever came.

What I love the most about these three men -- my longest-lasting male relationships -- is that they have all found wives that I love, and who love me. There's no need for me to consider ever breaking ties with these men.

Thanks, fellas. I love you.

And my brothers, too.

Any man I marry has about eighteen men to pass inspection with before they'll be approved.

Perhaps this is why it's easy for me to disregard a man; I can just say, "Rob would kill him," and he's out tha do'.

There were men I thought would stay by my side, but who left me for women who demanded that he pick her over me -- like Todd.

I'm supposed to be a good enough friend to understand.

*don't ever do that to me, Tylere*

I must re-write my statement of purpose and my writing-sample for graduate applications and get those suckers in the mail. I need to get my ass into motherfuckin gradschool before my brain begins to function like a blue-collar domestic.

The new mission: to make architecture my professional hobby.

So begins it.