Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Knock-knock, motherfucker.
One ox, two oxen. One fox, two foxen.
Dissension is healthy, even when it gets loud.
A hug is like a strangle you haven't finished yet.
Meanwhile, I was doodling pictures of vampiric cougars.
I'm pretty sure 'ferral cats' is code for 'vampire cougars.
I had no idea how complicated and solitary it could be to write a simple book.
I try to be appreciative of what I have instead of bitter about what I’ve lost.
...you are defined not by life's imperfect moments, but by your reaction to them.
...and whenever I had menstral cramps, I could just pretend that Voldemort was close.
High School Is Life’s Way of Giving You a Record Low to Judge the Rest of Your Life By)
If you enjoyed high school, you were probably a psychopath or a cheerleader. Or possibly both.
I very much own the fact that I'm a misfit. The Internet makes everyone realize they're screwed up.
When Hailey was born my first thought was that I needed a drink and that hospitals should have bars in them.
A house should look lived in, and I consider it clean as long as I don't stick to it and it doesn't give me cholera.
Have you ever been homesick for someplace that doesn't actually exist anymore? Someplace that exists only in your mind?
In short? It is exhausting being me. Pretending to be normal is draining and requires amazing amounts of energy and Xanax.
I am the Wizard of Oz of housewives (in that I am both "Great and Terrible" and because I sometimes hide behind the curtains
Like books, the Internet has saved my life. It helped me recognize that so many people I adore suffer from the same things I do.
Then I yelled through his door, "It's an anniversary gift for you, asshole. Two whole weeks early. FIFTEEN YEARS IS BIG METAL CHICKENS.
Every time I get scared or feel like I'm not going to be good enough at something, I say that mantra to myself. "Pretend you're good at it."
Writing about my illness put me into places. It was very triggering. I had to completely remove myself and practice self-care. I learned to be patient.
[On acupuncture:] The needles are small and won't hurt at all. In fact, they'll feel good. Ha, ha! Just kidding. They feel like needles. Because they are.
So many of us feel like we're misfits until we finally find our tribe - the other people who are are strange in the same way - and suddenly everything clicks.
When I was little, my father used to sell guns and ammo at a sporting goods store, but I always told everyone he was an arms dealer, because it sounded more exciting.
If you could hear the insane stuff going on in my head, it would scare the hell out of you. Probably. Or fascinate you. Depends on how easily you're startled, I guess.
It’s amazing how much you’re missing in a depressive state until you start to come out on the other side. It’s like breathing again after being underwater for far too long.
When I'm blogging, I think book writing is easier and vice versa. Writing is lonely work, and the good thing about blogging is that you have immediate feedback from commenters.
Because you are defined not by life's imperfect moments, but by your reaction to them. And because there is joy in embracing - rather than running from - the utter absurdity of life.
Some people we define as trolls are just critics. Sometimes they have a point. And I hear them. But for the ones who comment "I want to kill you in your sleep," I respond to them too.
It's funny because the most sane women I've ever met are my mom and my grandmothers. I think you have to be incredibly sane and self-aware to function in relatively insane environments.
A friend is someone who knows where all your bodies are buried. Because they're the ones who helped you put them there." And sometimes, if you're really lucky, they help you dig them back up.
Writing is my therapy. In addition to my real therapy. God knows where I'd be without it. I'd probably still be at my last job, working in HR at a religious organization. I was horribly miscast.
But really, what else are you going to talk about in line at the liquor store? Childhood trauma seems like the natural choice, since it’s the reason why most of us are in line there to begin with.
YOU are using a frisbee as a plate." "Uh, what? I'm not using a--oh hang on, this is a frisbee. Weird." Victor glared at me. "Dude, calm down, I'll wash it afterward. It's probably dishwasher safe.
When I was young, my family didn't go on outings to the circus or trips to Disneyland. We couldn't afford them. Instead, we stayed in our small rural West Texas town, and my parents took us to cemeteries.
When I was in junior high I read a lot of Danielle Steele. So I always assumed that the day I got engaged I'd be naked, covered in rose petals, and sleeping with the brother of the man who'd kidnapped me.
the most terribly human moments - the ones we want to pretend never happened - are the very moments that make us who we are today. ... You are defined not by life's imperfect moments, but by your reaction to them.
People assume that because I'm a girl and my blog is hot pink that my readership is 90% women, but it's not. It's probably only about 65%. When I do tours, it's pretty much the same thing: it's about one-third guys.
When you're really crazy you don't question it. Being aware of my behaviors stops them. Sure, a lot of people pick their cuticles, but how many people cut big parts of their skin off? It's unfair because I have been judged.
Even at age 10, I already knew that I was different from most people. My anxiety disorder was still years from being diagnosed, but it affected me quite deeply. I was too afraid to speak out in class, too nervous to make real friends.
The hardest thing to write was explaining what anxiety feels like. Every time I'd try to really write about what it feels like to have an anxiety attack, I would actually have an anxiety attack. It was good material but so incredibly uncomfortable.
I picked up the phone to call the police, but then I considered how it would sound when I told them that I was calling from inside my bathroom, where I’d OD’ed on laxatives, and that a possible rapist was quietly passing me notes under the bathroom door.
In fact almost everyone in my yearbook wrote the same thing to me: "To weird girl, you're nice." I didn't think it was bad. When I showed my mother she said, "Everyone is different." Being weird became my tool. I'm weird; that's who I am. It was my coping badge.
There's so much shame involved in not being like everyone else. But I learned that the things that made me unique were good. Dealing with problems can be awful. But in the end I got positive results. I don't think I would have been a writer if I didn't have anxiety.
It's interesting with my blog, because it feels to me less like a blog and more like a forum, because my readers are so funny and leave hysterical comments. And I'm not being humble when I say that very often, the comments are so much better than the post originally was.
One moment I'm perfectly fine and the next I feel a wave of nausea, then panic. Then I can't catch my breath and I know I'm about to lose control and all I want to do is escape. Except that the one thing I can't escape from is the very thing I want to run away from... me.
I can finally see that all the terrible parts of my life, the embarrassing parts, the incidents I wanted to pretend never happened, and the things that make me "weird" and "different," were actually the most important parts of my life. They were the parts that made me ME.
Grandpa did everything at his own pace, a speed that my sister and I referred to as 'when snails attack.' ... My grandparents' house was only about ten miles from ours, but the ride there would necessitate sandwiches packed for the trip, and several books to keep us occupied.
That night I looked up at those same stars, but I didn't want any of those things. I didn't want Egypt, or France, or far-flung destinations. I just wanted to go back to my life from my childhood, just to visit it, and touch it, and to convince myself that yes, it had been real.