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Then we went to a flatbread pizza place, which is um maybe too "earthy" and "organic" but nonetheless delicious. Our clean cut, vanilla looking waiter had two tattoos running down the back of his arms. Left: Don't Tread on Me (complete with cut up snake) and Right: Live Free or Die. Oh New Hampshire.
I'm drinking this diet Orange Crush and wondering why I think neon orange colored things are presumably okay to ingest. I just can't help it, I love orange soda.
When I was little, I would often have snacks of orange juice and cheetos, not only because OJ was usually the only juice we had in the house and Cheetos were my mom's favorite junk food, but because I really liked the idea of only eating things that were one color.
By the way, I can still drink orange juice disturbingly quickly, as a remnant of my OJ filled past.
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I'm nervous about the future and moving. I realized this after I noticed I had already bitten three of my nails on my left hand. Now they are hurty. BOO URNS.
Less than a month of AmeriCorps left! If you want to be precise, which I want you to, it's only TWENTY more working days. EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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