stirred.

On this hungover afternoon, i find myself stumbling across different aspects of what makes me, me. How cold chinese noodles and an explicit Alanis Morissette song can define the person that i am. How i find pieces of myself, my real self, in a glass of strawberry lemonade or a Grey's Anatomy episode. Red hair dye, chain smoking cigarettes, intoxicated nights, quoting impressions, cheesecake, broadway musicals and blogs. I wanna go for a drive in 70 degree weather and end up in New York City with a cream cheesed bagel in my hand. With a truckers mouth and a hell of way of dancing, I pride myself in my wit and incredible sense of humor. My body moves in a way that amazes me with just the push of a play button. Chicken nugget toes, black coffee and the way my bare feet feel against a wooden floor. How easily hard it is for me to fall madly in love. Naked naps. Hats. Sunny with a side of chilly days as i drive faster than i should. Reckless, Spontaneous always. Sushi and italian food and jewish favorites. Saying whatever the fuck i want to say. My mother. My soul. I always wonder how people think of me. What they like and don't like. I like me.