Roof

There is a roof outside the window next to my bed which rests on the floor but is still tall.
sometimes sitting on my roof, alone, in silence, is difficult.
can see the whole city from his roof, and I liked sitting there with him,
Allston is my spot, solitude and rest is a challenge, and my thoughts are loud.

There is an elementary school next to my house with a mural on it.

It is also really beautiful at night.

Sometimes it helps to look through something to see something in a new way.
Sometimes it helps to disconnect

collaging is more than just something I do

There's some sort of dissonance that goes into altering photos of yourself. I always take out these lines that are next to my mouth. I don't see them in real life but they always read in camera. I take them out, and then I pile a whole lot of other shit on top of photos of me. I don't have a lot of outlets right now. I work 60 hours a week, 2 jobs, trying to be a 23 year old single girl, trying to meet new people. It's incredibly difficult as an artistic person to not have time to create art. This is what leads to my own depression in a lot of ways. Sometimes I like to sing with my roommates to pop songs in our living room, it feels good to be able to use my voice. Sometimes I get stoned and make glitter drawings with my friends, and it feels like I'm painting. But nothing yields anything substantial, nothing is too serious. I can't be too serious about my job, or it feels like I am an adult, which is wrong. I can't be too serious about making future plans or else the future will actually happen. I can't be too serious about being responsible, or else I'm leaving behind the "naivety" that let's me get away with doing the stupid shit I do. I can't be too serious about anything or else people will take me seriously.

I hate the world. I want to own it. I want to be mine. I want it to be exactly how I want it to be, I want it to be colorful, I want to time travel, I want to be in a golden field, I want to have my beauty accented by a soft glow of a flower, I want the sunset to shine through my face. I want to collage my life. I want to select all the noise and delete it, I want to copy and paste everybody I love right into my house. I want to erase that attitude. I want you to focus on my eyes. 


My world, how I want it, how I want it to look, what I want to be around, how I want you to see me, that is what I want, that is why I cut out pictures from the internet.

Pizza Plus Pizza Plus Cats

When I first got my rabbit, I took him in because my best friend Leah couldn't bring him to her new apartment. She thought he was a girl rabbit. It turns out she had never discovered for sure, but just decided he was a girl because she wanted a girl rabbit. I had always suspected that she was a he, just in that way you KNEW that kid in high school was gay even though he told you all about the "girls" he had "crushes" on. But my friend Jackie did the one thing we had never done to figure it out for sure, which was check out whether or not he had a penis. Surprise he does!!!!

Originally, Leah named him Pizza. For the 3 years I've had him I've also called him Pizza, but since he recently went through this gender reassignment, I felt that he should have a new name to go with his new identity. So Pizza became Pete Za became Peter.

We accept your new identity, Peter! (Even though we all still call him Pizza most of the time. I don't think he minds, he hasn't said anything about it.)

My roommates and I made pizza the other day. And by my roommates and I, I mean my roommates made pizza while I drank their wine and took photos.

Shauna makes her own dough from scratch which is epic and amazing.

It didn't take super long for it to just turn into Shauna making the pizza while the rest of us drank. Good thing we had so much wine, because we couldn't find the rolling pin so we had to use an empty.

It may appear to just be a delicious sauteed mushroom and salami pizza, BUT GUESS WHAT, under that thick, thick layer of shredded mozz lies a secret weapon - caramelized onions. You have to put it under the cheese so they stay soft and don't get cripsy.

Juniper and her oldest son, Fattie, played with the bags on the floor while we cooked. These cats goddamn love bags. Juniper was a stray we took in over the summer (when we didn't realize she was pregnant), so we feel like she must love bags because she's super ghetto and used them as houses. Why Fattie loves the bags so much... who knows, but seriously he goddamn loves bags.

Oh my god. This was the most glorious moment. This pizza. In my mouth. It was so sweet and amazing. And melty. And warm. I'm so hungry right now as I write this post. Life is hard.

Anyways, here's the awesome recipe for the dough:

Shauna's Epic Pizza Dough

Ingredients
3 1/2 cups of flour
2 tbs baking power
1/2 tps baking soda
1 tbs salt
herbs galore (optional)
3 tbs olive oil
& 12oz Narragansett Lager

1. Mix the dry shit
2. Make a well
3. Pour in beer and olive oil
4. Kneed til smooth and elastic (no need to wait for this bitch to rise! it's good to go!)
5. Cook at 400 for 30-40 minutes, once topped


Pizza, I get it. It's hard being a rabbit. Pizza is tired. This pizza made me so tired. I love Pizza, rabbit and food.

one corner down, three to go.

My life is pretty hilarious lately. Within the past year, I've graduated from college with a meaningless degree (SURPRISE, I'M 22 AND DID THIS), exited an incredibly, srsly srs relationship, been way stupider than I ever have been, had more money troubles than I've ever had, pissed people off, been pissed off, and just all around realizing how utterly alone I am! HILARIOUS!!! A hilarious year, a laugh-along-romp, with all my tall boy friends (RE: PBR). Now I'm starting a blog. Hahaha!

I originally thought of calling this blog "Sad Girl Blog", but my friend Ariel said that she refers to her twitter as Sad Girl Twitter, and if I named it as such she would take me to court. But also who wants to read a blog called Sad Girl Blog!! (I mean I would.) I hope to document and hide my depression, as well as show off my mad interior decorating skills and superiority at buying cheap-as-fuck clothes that look siq on me.

Recently my roommate moved out, which was inevitable since we were basically sharing a closet. So now I have this whole space of my own?? This is the first time I've had my own bedroom since I was 18. I went to college and had roommates, then moved in with my boyfriend, then when we split me and this girl shacked up out of loneliness and co-dependence. It's fine!!! We're super healthy.

BUT NOW, I have my own room. It's one of those situations where I thought everything would immediately fall into place as soon as changes were made but like with most things, I was wrong! I'm starting one corner at a time with this room. So far, I'd say it's not too shabby, but I still have a lot of work to do before I consider myself at Selby status.

The key to LIFE is having an orchid. The key to orchids is watering them once a week with ice cubes. Not to be all Orchid-Guy-From-Twin-Peaks but orchids are awesome. Also don't steal my journal! She gave it to me! (anyone, anyone?)

Having flowers is nice. If you keep them alive, it's always an accomplishment. Then I can tell myself, YOU'RE ACCOMPLISHING SOMETHING!!! For some reason, orchids are the only flowers I've been able to keep alive. I killed a goddamn cactus. SERIOUSLY. I didn't water it enough. Also I dropped it.

No room of a cool and normal girl would be complete without some essential manga. RIGHT? Don't argue with me. Akira is the best, it's always funny when people give me sideways looks when I talk about how much I connect to Testuo. What, that's wrong? I get it! I get his struggles, man!

Closetless closet is also nice. This is something former roommate and I had to enact in order to save space in our room. With the help of adult male neighbor, these rods were hung!!! Complete with exposed brick -- not too shabby for an apartment that is located in a rat-run wasteland. Also,  now you can always look at my tutu! I always want to look at it, I love it. Not that I ever wear it.

Ahh, there he is.  My boyfriend, Peter. He was absolutely happy to pose under this hat for a photo.

And there you have it. Post one of the blog that I'm not going to call Sad Girl Blog in my head.