There exists a such thing as pumpkin fro yo. Now, I don’t get all hopped up on pumpkin spice lattes because, well, I find them slightly disgusting (the ilk factor, to me, likely being the coffee) but pumpkin fro yo? Omgeezy I just cannot get enough. How much does it help with my seasonal anxiety depression? A whole lot. You know what else helps? Veronica Mars. You know what doesn’t help? When you’re sitting on a riser at a restaurant in West Columbia and, without making any movements whatsoever, 1/4th of your chair falls over the edge of the riser and! there you go! in front of everyone! Did I just admit to that? Yes, yes, I think I did.
So, while I’m doing shit like that, my old neighbor did this:
Which, you know, obvi makes me think of other bits of awesomeness I’ve accomplished lately. Where to begin.
Well, my turquoise nail polish has lasted a full, un-chipped week on my fingers. Which, need I say, miracle upon miracles. I proved my hair-genius-girl wrong by finding the shit she was trying to sell me at the salon elsewhere for $7 cheaper. Um, I decided I might actually like vegetable soup. The fact that it’s my mom’s homemade version, notwithstanding. I’ve increased my celebrity crush list and resisted continuing subscriptions to both Newsweek and Time. I avoided the Clemson v. Georgia Tech game for a 4th year. (That’s how much I hate Yellow Jackets.) I decided on a Halloween costume despite my lack of desire to participate. I haven’t been to Starbucks in, like, 4 days. I saw Daniel Tosh live. I swooned over the Avett Brothers for a 3rd time.
Hm, I think that might be it. No hole in one, eh?