Life Still Sucks In A Strapless Bra

I haven’t written for a year. An entire year. 

As I wipe off the figurative dust from Life Sucks In A Strapless Bra, I can’t help but think about who I was when I put the pen down on this day last year. I was depressed. Heartbroken. Pissed off. I had lost my way. Lost my voice. Lost what I loved most about this blog, which was coming to an empty space in the interweb and filing it with funny, interesting nonsense that I pulled from my brain that seemed to entertain people. 

That’s why I walked away. Kate needed to get her words back. I mean my last post one year ago today ended with, “Al Gore rules. PEACE.” Uhhh. Yeah. Baby girl needed a time out. 

Jesus Christ, could you even imagine if I had been actively blogging through the Weinstein, Me Too explosion? I mean, you’re welcome, Interweb, for the unintentional timing of my sabbatical, because I think I would have just lit everything on fire and won the Guinness Book of World Records for saying FUCK the most amount of times in one blog post, making my mother cry hysterically in a corner for the rest of time.

But a year later, I like to think I’m still me… maybe even, dare a say, a better version? But don’t worry, still very much full of snark and sarcasm. I still believe that our lives do suck so much more in strapless bras… although, sidebar, I may or may not found one this summer that I didn’t think was fully manufactured from Satan’s asshole. GASP, I know, who am I, right? My boyfriend shames me on the regular for it wearing it, too (rightly so). :::Whispers::: Did she just say boyfriend? Yes… yes I did :::hair flip:::

Girls, and 2 boys that read this shit, we have SO much to catch up on.

This time around, I am all about the content. For so long I wanted the best host for my blog. And the most innovative design. Until I realized I’m not tech-savvy, and, quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about it. I know my way around some words. I am here for the content, and I hope you are, too. And man… I am up to my eyeballs with content.

So without further adieu, I cannot wait to share with you the adventures I’ve been on. And, UH, guys, we NEED to talk about how much I fucking detest all fashion right now. Is it just me? Please tell me it isn’t just me. Because I’m over seeing Cher Horowitz’s closet vomming all over every department store and I NEED… no… MUST to talk to someone about it. We get it. Clueless. It happened. Move on. 

Alright I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m just so God damn happy to be back at it. You really don’t even know how good this feels. Sigh.

Ahh shit, okay… turns out I don’t really recall how to sign-off of a post, so I’m just going to awkwardly side step out of here, waving my top hat I’m not actually wearing.

Byeeeeeeeeeeeee.

 

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