Let me tell you a little story...

...about a little girl who was excited to move out of her parent's house so she could live on her own in the big city and somehow grow tomatoes.

Things that happened in this story...

• The girl moved out of her parent's house.
• The girl lived in a city.
• The girl grew tomatoes.
• All of the tomatoes died.

This story is actually an auto-biography of my life. Earlier today, I told my friend Emma on our walk to Starbucks that my tomatoes died, so she picked me a flower to put in my hair. The only response I had was, "I don't have any hair." So, it ended up looking like this, which is kind of silly, I guess.

Usually, I fix all of my problems by purchasing expensive coffee, I don't know why, it just makes me feel better. But, it bugs me that nobody in the world can spell my name right. It's actually spelled K-E-R-R-I. But, Carrie is an okay name too, I guess.

Also, my phone started doing this thing where it's in auto-blur mode, all the time. It's great, I guess.

I live cement, I hate this street.

Give me wide ground to run and forgone.

let's me knife

knife me let's

I will get what I like.

The darkroom is finished.

I'm giving myself new projects. 

I don't know what the fuck my problem is.

What the fuck is your problem?

What the fuck is your problem?

What the fuck is your problem?

What the fuck is your problem?

What the fuck is your problem?

What the fuck is your problem?

What the fuck is your problem?

What the fuck is your problem?

What the fuck is your problem?

What the fuck is your problem?

I feel stressed, I found a slug in my shower today.

You're mostly what I think about, and I'm proud.

Well, here we go again. I haven't updated this blog in a year.

The point of me using this thing again is so I might actually start doing productive/fun things with my life. And when I don't update for months, you'll know I've been sitting around doing absolutely nothing.

Anyway, moved out, went through 5 roommates, finally found a good one.

This is her cat, Pumpkin.

This is my dog, Pokey.

I found a cat, who is mine now. This is Warchild. 

I fell in... like. Big time.

I bought a car. 

I went to Las Vegas on a business trip.

I went to D.C., Baltimore, and New York.

I am going to build a dark room in my basement. 

That's it, really.

I'm not mean and got a neck full of razor bumps, I'm not the classic profile of what the ladies want.

This is lame, I know.
Nobody reads this, I know.
I've been looking through my old pictures on my flickr and realized that I fucking love taking pictures. I guess it's because I have the worst memory in the world, so without pictures I'll forget everything ever. I always seem to miss the past (unless there's people I started to hate in the pictures, then I get pissed off). But, every time I take pictures now I'm always thinking in my head "i hope i miss this when i look back on these pictures in a year". I just like missing things? Maybe it's a reminder that everything doesn't always sucks. Who knows... Either way, I haven't picked up my digital camera in so long.

A quiet moment, a café, a piece of pie to end the day, à la mode, coffee too, here's to you friend, here's to you, here's to you.

There never was a city kid truer and bluer.

<3
Can't stop listening.