Pent up demand.

When I was little, I used to sit in front of Saturday morning cartoons with a pen and paper and watch all the commercials to make my Christmas wish list. I remember the day this stopped working and being frustrated that there weren’t any good toys these days — completely ignorant to the fact it was I that had changed.

Now I scroll through the last several posts on Design Sponge and troll Etsy. And pretty much assume anything from Anthropologie is fair game. Happy places and playlands never go away, they just change location. Sort of like Narnia, you can never enter through the same way twice.

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People always tell you life is too short to do something you hate. I would argue the real reason is because life is too long.

In the thousands of working hours clocked over a lifetime you could try, fail, rethink, regroup, change careers and go for it again a dozen times. I read this article a while back and what stuck out to me most was the idea that your dreams are not something you go for once you’ve made money or established yourself. The point being you will never have “enough” money and this course you’ve laid in the opposite direction of your dreams will be hard to repave.

Honestly, the idea of going for my dreams now seems quite scary. If I go for it now and find out at 25 that’s not at all what I want to do with my life, I have no dreams left. I’d have to do some Oprah-size reevaluation to “dream a bigger dream” on a student-size budget. It’s rare to financially outgrow your dreams.

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Eve Harrington is a total bitch. There’s nothing like being a johnny-come-lately to something popular or classic and having no one to share it with because everyone else is so over it already. At this rate I’ll be reading Harry Potter in my eighties.

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No, I haven’t read Harry Potter.

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I suppose I should stop blabbering and fill you guys in on the real world stuff that has been happening. Basically, work work work. Fun work, but work. It’s been… almost a month since I started blogging for the Houston Press. Special care has been taken not to weigh myself since- Lord only knows how much I’ve gained with this get-out-of-guilt-free card. If I can write about it, I can eat it.

This morning I had a milkshake for breakfast.

At the very least, I’m poised to put away substantial amounts of pie this Thanksgiving, and will be getting my money’s worth of food on my CRUISE which as of Thursday will be less than a month away.

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Saving the best for last, I am officially a published writer. Not even kidding. Read Laura’s post at The Queso for more details and fun pictures, but basically last week was the launch party where I got to meet a whole lotta Houston bloggers I admire including my fav, The Bloggess. Probably the most star-struck I’ve ever been considering the only other “famous” person I’ve ever met was Billy Bob Thornton when I was an extra in Friday Night Lights and after a day spent in the Astrodome yelling “GO PERMIAN!” in a band uniform I was mostly just agitated and grossed out by his combover.

Anyhow. It was awesome.

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The second-closest I’ve ever come to meeting someone I admire is the time I went to Barnes & Noble on Westheimer and Voss to buy “Holidays on Ice” for my neice and the girl at the checkout counter was all “oh, you like David Sedaris? He was in the store last week signing books.”

It may have been the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me.

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The end. Happy Thanksgiving.