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I kind of regret throwing away the vinylz and just keeping the sleeves framed. But whatever. YOLO.

 

You're probably also the person who apparently buys the signed singles as soon as they pop up because "the signature is different on each one!" 

 

 

No wonder why her shit is so expensive.

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Am I the only one here that hates when my friends make me go out on Saturday night because I wanna sit in the bathtub reading for 2 hours? introvert4lyfe

 

 

I'm cool with going out but I need like a written notice 3-6 days in advance or I will absolutely hate everything.

 

I am also cool with going out, but pretty much leave me the fuck alone for next five days that follow.

 

My early twenties involved a lot of parties, and I was all for it... for that night (and sometimes not even the full night). If I knew people had stayed over and passed out on our floor, I would stay holed up in my room the next morning until they left because I was done with social interaction.

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On tour last summer, I lucked out and shared a room with one of my closest friends. We can both be really social but we get tuckered out easily, so it wasn't uncommon for us to be laying in the same bed but not at all interacting. 

 

Well, one of the guys left the tour and instead of paying for a hotel room for a single person...they grouped him in with us.
Coolest, sweetest dude but SOOOO hyperactive. 

 

We used to have to ask him to leave the room and he would get so offended, but he wanted our attention 99.99999% of the time.

It was honestly like training a new puppy.

 

I still adore the kid, but man, he droves us insane during those few weeks.

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I have a really vivid memory I like to think about when it's really cold here in Michigan - just some thoughts to warm up to.

When I was a kid, I spent a significant part of my childhood in Hawai'i. I learned to swim in the Pacific Ocean, and I loved going to the beach and swimming around in my snorkeling gear. I had darker, permanently tanned skin, and lighter, blondish hair, from spending so many days at the beach and out on my mountain bike. I loved Hawai'i. I was very lucky to have lived there, even if I wasn't necessarily old enough to really appreciate it.

And I'll never forget this one day I was at the beach, kind of swimming by myself. I had on my grey flippers, my long green board shorts, and an orange mask with a snorkel. I was just sort of practicing diving as deep as I could in that warm blue saltwater, watching the light shine in streaks below the surface. I had asthma but I swear I felt like I could hold my breath for minutes at a time. I'd dive deep and brush my fingers through the sandy bottom of the ocean, surface to take enough deep breath, and dive again. Soaked in the bright tropical sun and the saltwater. Really alive.

I remember seeing this silver disc on the ocean floor. I couldn't make it out, really; it had to have been 10 feet down or more. It glinted in the sun. I knew I couldn't reach it; I surfaced, caught my breath, and dived again. There it was, bright and silver and glinting in the sunlight. Whatever it was, it deserved further inspection. I was determined to see it up close.

One last try. I kicked my way up, took my mask and snorkel off, got all of the water out, and fitted it back over my blondish hair. One more deep breath, and I kicked my way down as deep and fast as I could. There it was, the silver form taking shape as each kick brought me closer and closer, and when I was a foot away, I could finally make out what it was in the murky ocean bottom and fading sunlight:

A giant, severed, ragged fish head, mouth agape, with one rotting, glassy eye staring back at me.

Think warm thoughts, my friends. Springtime is on it's way!

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