The Millionth

I’ve started blogs a million times. I always start them and never finish them, but I suppose that was implied.

This is going to be a blog about me.
I was born in the year 1991 in Rhode Island.
I am a small girl in a small state who, until recently, found her life boring.

I go to Community College, although I did not start here.
I live in Providence, in one of the ghetto-est neighborhoods; the boarder of Olenyville and Silverlake. It depends on who you ask as to which town I actually reside in.

I drink a little too much on occasion and smoke cigarettes when it is dark outside.
I have two cats and I rent an apartment with my mother Bethy.
I have a friend named Kate who I run around with quite frequently. We are currently trying to set up a blog for local writers to showcase their works.  It’s in it’s fetal stages, I’m sure I’ll tell you more about it later.
*Want to submit? Email at
         Photos, writing, paintings, when you’ll be performing somewhere… we want your art!

I work at a coffee shop which will remain nameless for now, I help run my college newspaper and I am an intern for a local magazine.

**Looking for a freelancer in the Rhode Island area? Contact me! Shameless self promotion, but that’s the only way to get ahead in this shit world.

I cannot say my life is bad, even if it hasn’t turned out the way I pictured. I turned 22 the other day andI really thought that I would be in a different place by now. Grad school, still living in NYC, working as a paralegal. I am literally non of those things.
I write and work in writing/publishing. I attend CCRI (LAST SEMESTER) and I live back in my home state.
Kate asked me the other day if five-year-old me met myself now, would she be proud?
No, five-year-old me would be seriously disappointed that we are bad at math and did not end up being an astronaut. And if we are being really technical five year old me would not have the learning capacity (according to Howard Gardner) to really grasp the idea of life at 22.
We were at a bar (Trinity Brewhouse) when she brought this up and I took out my phone to see what five-year-old me’s brain capacity would be. I’m that girl…

Sometimes 22 year old me is not proud, but then I just say fuck it.
Sometimes that is just what you have to do, say fuck it, fuck you, fuck them, fuck it ALL and then move on.


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