Summer is beginning. It's a Sunday afternoon and I'm still in bed. The Weather is Lying. Time feels Elastic.
It's 50 degrees in Chicago and that sucks so bad, but honestly I'm pretending like it's fall.
I'm not sure if I want to pretend it's fall, but emotionally things are feeling very September — not in the best way, but it's okay... June is coming.
I have many goals this summer and I'm not yet sure how to accomplish them, as I seem to have already booked out just about every single day until the second week of October. But I can't be bothered to genuinely be worried — I've done it to myself.
Everyone keeps hitting me up asking if I'll be in Chicago this summer. I know I have a habit of vanishing every summer — but y'all forget that's when I was living on student loans and online fetish money. I'm all grown up now. My student loan repayment is in forbearance and I work 3 jobs which take up all 7 days of the week.
I gave myself what seems to be a cold that has been coming and going since March, but I'm now considering the possibility of allergies. To be real, I would be truly so embarrassed if I had to tell people, "Oh yeah, I have *seasonal allergies*..." Lord help me, please.
On second thought, it could also be my long-overdue popcorn lung.
Anyway-
When I mention my 3 jobs, I don’t want to complain. Well, I'll complain about one because holy fuck — but the other two are wonderful. I come home covered in dirt every day and I've never been happier. All I need now is a car and I will start levitating.
I have seen so many of my close friends transform over the past year and I am truly so happy to see the evolution of everyone. 2025 has surprisingly been blessing everyone for no reason. I'll leave it at that — I wouldn't want to jinx all the lovely things happening.
Speaking of, my childhood dog named Jinx died. I never thought I would be happy to see the dog I got in the first grade die, but truly that beast needed to cross the rainbow bridge. He was more cystic growth than dog toward the end.
The real tragedy comes with the situation his death has caused. My other dog, Bodhi (short for Bodhisattva, which means "the enlightened one"), is now so depressed by Jinx's death that he has been on a full PETA-style hunger strike. He looks like a Halloween decoration. I found that he enjoys Culver's french fries though, so maybe he will become normal again. I was hoping for a lot of hilarious things in 2025, but Pro-Ana English Pointer was not on the list.
I need to get back into online sex work — it made me awesome. And it afforded me ways to finance a bleach and tone whenever I wanted. I guess if you're reading this and want me to be blonde as fuck again and stop looking recession-affected and homely, hit me up. It's such a sad reality being poor, but also so sexy when I'm blonde as fuck.
There are so many exciting things happening in life right now. I truly have found so many things that bring me joy and fulfill me creatively and physically. All I need now is a way to get rich while doing it. But honestly, I'm not sure with just me by my side I will ever find the fiscal success I dream of. I may need a man in finance to come in and fix me.
Feeling so blessed that I live in a world where I can sit and write this blog from my Humboldt Park apartment in Chicago, laying naked in bed thinking about ways to become more awesome. I am the American Dream. I don’t give a fuck.
I'm wearing yesterday’s eyeliner, and Friday’s mascara... Call me sick, but I truly believe it is a blessing I'm able to be like this with no repercussions.
I pray for the women that feel the need to write esoteric poetry about the men that don’t want them. I hope you all are having an awesome day, but please stop writing the poetry — or at the very least, stop putting it online. It’s not worth it, baby.
That probably came off as misogynistic, and maybe it was. I'm not yet sure.
To make it even, I’ll say something misandrist:
Happy Memorial Day weekend — I'm going to spend the holiday pulling weeds. Might say fuck it and finally buy the gun I want. Tomorrow, rural IL is my oyster.
With Love, FAME
