i wish i had a suntan, i wish i had a pizza and a bottle of wine

Baby brother really fucked it up this time.

My mom was going through some old boxes in the garage and found all these old photos. Unfortunately my scanner is broken and the webcam on my hp mini isn't that sharp, but I figured these were worth sharing.

(Front)



My mom wrote this on the back right before we moved to Germany. She even wrote "Dabby"


Me and my older brother Ian at "Jolly Rogers" in Ocean City, MD


This polaroid is so sad! My first dog Bud at my moms old work, getting groomed. He was the sweetest dog but "allegedly" bit some girl in the face so we had to put him to sleep. The day he died was the first time I remember ever feeling real pain, aww RIP BUD "THE SCUD" MORENO.


Me and Ian, fans of nature.


My mom, age 2.


This is probably my favorite picture of me, ever. Look at those teeth!


Me + Ian + John, XMAZ


Me and my grandpa Nedwick (My mom's grandfather.) He passed away when I was 9 and took my nose with him (he was a big fan of the I GOT YOUR NOSE game.)


My mom + my brothers and I dressed up for Easter. Sorry about my lipstick..


My late great pop-pop Joe. He died from cancer while I was still in my mom's belly but I feel like I've known him my whole life. He was a big shot rock guitarist in Delaware who's stage name was "Joe Brandy" because he liked to have one glass of brandy before we went on stage.

I want to be in a concept video

Guess I'm a lez since all my favorite songs + song videos are hot women. Oh well!
Ps. my dog stinks! Tomorrow I'll be sure to bring him to work and give him a bath.

your heart is a strange little orange to peel

^ Itchy tan skin, War Hungry t from 2006, and mustache decal added in Picnik to hide a chocolaty thumbprint.^

Lately I've been feeling like I'm destined to die alone, without any friends. I'll be the old woman with two people at her funeral, her cat and the one grandmother that will probably out live me. No matter what, all my friends (aside from the boyz,) seem to always get sick of me! I'm sure the boys get sick of me too but they're just less vocal about it. Anyway, I guess I should blame it on my mom (since that's what you're supposed to do.) I seem to have inherited her personality down to a t. I'm irritable, snappy, and worry way too much. I don't like being ignored. I roll my eyes and sigh and repeatedly feel the need to make fun of everything, all the time. I'm annoying, loud, and talk way too much. This sounds more like a really bad personals ad.

Today my dad told me "sweetie, don't let other people rent space in your head," which I thought was great. I worry and worry until my stomach knots and flips around and I'm left wondering "what the fuck did I do wrong?" In the grand scheme of things you're never going to figure out how other people see you. You will always be a little mystery to yourself.

Maybe that's a good thing.

So long, and thanks for all the smores!

Spent my Memorial Day weekend at the Beach (no, we don't call it the shore.) I saw a lot of cute pups on the boardwalk and Melissa ate an ice cream flavor called "better than sex." I wore a 2 piece and now my belly is tan. I have sunburn on my shoulders, with secret freckles spreading across my nose that were long forgotten. We saw a car full of mexicans singing opera. My grandmother's cat ate a dryer sheet. I went waist deep into the Atlantic. Found old friends on the boardwalk and invited them back to our camp ground to eat gooey smores and confess "where's the strangest place you've ever had sex," mine wasn't very strange. Learned what "Sussex county mentality" truly is. The locals at Holly Lake liked to chill on the swings with a big boom box and a flashlight at night. I shaved my legs in a public shower house. The sun sucked the life out of me. I didn't eat any boardwalk fries or go on any rides, I did not buy a hermit crab. I found sand in my bellybutton and I'm missing the breeze from the ocean already.

Here's a lil' beachy mix I made while laying out Friday.

PDA ruins everything.

photo cred Katy Statz

I hate PDA. I don't care what your sexual orientation is. I don't care if you're here and queer and getting used to it, I don't want to ever see you making out. I don't care if you're straight as a button and just can't keep your hands off your girlfriend. I don't want to be standing at a show and distracted by the sounds of two humans slurping on eachother's faces. I do not want to see your boyfriend grabbing your asshole and swaying back and forth. I do not want to smell your beer breath while you serenade your girlfriend with drunken lyrics, so close to my face that I almost feel drunk. / end PDA rant.

Some thangz I would like in the near future :

AA Sheer Rib Short Sleeve Tunique


Pet Cruiser® Wicker Cruiser™ Pet Bike Basket


UO Deux Lux Traveler Knapsack


BDG Dolman Tee


BDG Side Button Dolphin Shorts



BDG Geo Racerback Tank


BDG Super Stretch Cigarette Jean


UO Nice Shades Pillowcase Set (I think I wanna get these for Rick!)


Sonic Limeade, forever.

You know I thug 'em, fuck 'em, love 'em, leave 'em Cause I don't fuckin' need 'em

top : news paper t, thrifted
jeans : dark super long xhilaration sknnies target
belt : black & braided H&m
feather : probz from a pigeon's booty, Pay/Half
lip color : Neutrogena "Cherry Twist" target
eyelashes : L'oreal Extra-Volume Collagen Mascara in "Blackest Black" target