Shea, you have to write a bio. – KJ

I did. That’s what that paragraph was I sent the other day. – Shea

No, that was for the intro to the blog. – KJ

Isn’t that what a bio is? An intro? – Shea

No. They’re different. Write a bio. – KJ




This is that bio…


You guys. Life is hard.

Everybody struggles.


For example, today on my way to buy coffee and pastries from Huckleberry I was listening to Spotify and looking at my phone. I crunched a leaf. Then suddenly a little girl appeared and shrieked. She hadn’t seen me as the hedge hid me. The noise had scared the shit out of her. To which I shout at her (because I had headphones in) OH, I’M SORRY! Which then made her brother and dad laugh/cry. That poor girl looked so terrified. I thought she was going to punch me. It probably didn’t help that I was stoned.

I re-read that last paragraph and I thought, “I really am the most basic human on the planet.” It doesn’t take much to make me happy. I ordered a vanilla latte, a brownie, and a ham & cheese croissant. The only problem I have with that place is there is never a good area to wait for to go orders. You always feel in the way. Why do restaurants do that? Stop making me the asshole.

I took it back to my apartment and enjoyed my new patio furniture and fake lawn (post on that experience to come). I listened to the sweet, sweet jams my neighbor is bumping. Then the next-door neighbor starts doing laundry, which drowns out the (sound of the music). – Such a good movie. I stare at the palm trees blowing in the wind. The sun glistens off the fronds. The plants around here are so strange. Palm trees and evergreens all on the same block. It all resembles foliage in a Dr. Seuss book.

I see a seagull fly by. The washing machine turns off. The rhythm and blues of Janice Joplin surrounds me again. An airplane flies over-head. I freeze to stare at it. Why do little kids do that? Why do we stop as adults?

I didn’t say where I’m from or what I do for a living because I don’t necessarily think that is who I am. I’m sure I’ll bring it up at some point. I figured the above would be enough for the reader to form some type of first impression of me.

I’m not really sure what I’m trying to accomplish with this other than provide myself a free space to say whatever the hell I want. I welcome comments and criticisms though, as long as it all comes from a place of kindness, I’ll talk about anything.

Also, I’m going to just put this out there. Don’t count on me for as nearly as many posts as Katie. I just don’t have that in me. I hope you’ll understand.

I think it’s important to know what frame of mind I’m in when I write these so at the bottom of every post I’m going to put whatever I think the reader might benefit from knowing.

The struggle is real.


She picks up her latte and takes a swig. What a tool. Namaste. *POST.*


*I wrote this high, sitting on my balcony in Santa Monica, sipping a vanilla latte.

I feel very content and if this is all of it I’m cool with that.


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