Brooklyn

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A week or so ago I started shopping for a wedding dress, and guess what? Shopping for a wedding dress sucks!

I’ve never had any serious issues with past roommates, whether they’ve been friends, family, or someone I found on Craigslist or something. I consider myself really lucky in that way; I know there are horror stories out there. But, having lived with my mom for almost a year now, I’ve realized just how much of a burden it can really be.

I’m uprooting my life to try something new and different in another city in another state. In the time leading up to the actual move, I’ve found that a bunch of weird fucking shit (for lack of a better term) has showed up out of nowhere.

My first thought was: How do you rent a mom?

He was sleeping on the roof of ABC No Rio like me and a bunch of other summer campers and transients. It was tent city up there.

Get those tissues handy, because this story is a heartwarming doozy.

To the tattoo artist, I was a flesh canvas that she could transform into something beautiful.