Idealist

I've been told I need to toughen up - I'm too nice. 

When I was told that I internally smirked, pfft - you don't know me. 

It's not that I am not nice it's more so that I realize being nice is the grease on the wheel of 'give me what I want'. Not that I'm asshole at heart - what I want is more often that not group consensus, my friends to be happy, people of the world to join hands and start a love train. Love train. I know, disco does rule. It's happy music. Unless you are in a glass case of emotion, then it might ride your last frazzled nerve. 

Not disco - just nice. You're nice.

I do think happiness is a choice. A goddamn hard one from time to time since some days this is me: 

Not bringin' the milkshake.

Like our friend Mimi - you gotta shake, shake, shake it off. 

If that don't work there is always the Dammit Doll

Mine is George. I love him. 

What really works are homies, great ones. I have collected a varied sampling therein. If someone is trying to cheer me up and my response is to suck harder on the teat of bitterness, I try a new person. Not that the first person wasn't great but I can be intractable. I know, hard to believe and yet. 

Sushi for breakfast

Living la vida loca

it's Suntory time 

And if all else fails - head to the booze can. Oh, and shake your badonkadonk.

xo