Hello all from my blue chair in the corner of my room,
I am currently sitting here trying to type up a study guide for my exam tomorrow while sipping on some hot green tea with a blanket draped around my shoulders with the blinds open. Some guy walked by about fifteen minutes ago and blatantly stared into my window. We made awkward eye contact. Perfect way to start my day.
Today I would like to take you guys to a dark scary place. It is a place that all men/women do not wished to ever visit. Pause for dramatic effect.... The friend zone! Yes, we have all been friend zoned at least once before, probably by someone you really like. That is typically the way it goes. You can never run a touchdown into the friend zone of someone you don't really care to date. That's life I suppose.
When I was in high school, I was dating this boy named Kyle. We used to be friends in middle school. Probably what we should have stayed. I was a mean girl, and he was so sweet. Not so much anymore from what I understand. What a shame. There was this other boy (who I ended up dating for quite some time) who I liked a lot. From the moment I saw him, I didn't stand a chance. He'd break my heart some day, but he could have run over me with a steamroller and I wouldn't have minded at the time. I was head over heels infatuated. Turns out, he liked me too but had a girlfriend. He didn't break up with her quick enough for me. That is where Kyle came in. I friend zoned this boy for a long time. And it drove him absolutely insane!
One day, he had had enough of the friend zone. We already knew we liked each other, but I refuse to wait on people. He had his chance and he blew it. He would be waving the friend flag for quite a while. He came over to my house and interestingly enough, I was attempting to bake a cake for Kyle's upcoming birthday. He said he would help. If a girl invites you over to help her with a project she has going for another boy, you are so deep in the friend zone that you might actually have to fight to smell fresh air. Boy brought a movie that he claimed was his favorite of all time. Anyone want to take a guess at what that movie was?????
Ah, I'll tell you anyways. He brought "Just Friends" with him that day. Of all the freaking movies. I knew what was going on, but I played it like I didn't notice. He wanted me to see that people in the friend zone are capable of being more. He was trying to say, "Hey, I am better than the boyfriend you have. That cake should be for me. Get your ass over here and come snuggle up under my arm and let that thing burn!" Sadly enough, at some point I gave in. The cake was a hot mess, I am no Martha Stewart when it comes to baking from scratch. Cooking from scratch is more of my thing. So I let the big chocolate mess sit on the counter while I watched the movie with him. I was in some deep crap for this boy. I was in trouble. But he was safely in the friend zone and he knew it. He was going to have to put in some man hours to claw his way out of it. Eventually, (5 months later) he was out of the friend zone and into a whole knew zone with me. He probably should have stayed in the friend zone in hindsight. Oh well, you live and move on.
So, let's go through and talk about ways you can identify whether or not you have been given the friend zone penalty flag.
1) If you ask a girl to dinner and they suggest lunch, you are in the friend zone. Night time suggests being close and holding hands under a table, while the afternoon promotes kicking back at a not so romantic spot where there are bound to be other people in close proximity, making being close an issue. Lunch is for boyfriends and girlfriends, not someone trying to be one. Now, breakfast is a totally different story. Breakfast is hot. If you are asked to breakfast, you are safe. For the adults, if you stay the night with someone and they ask you to breakfast instead of just running to get to their daily to do list, you are safe.
2) If you only receive text messages from this person of interest and no phone calls, you have been friend zoned. Texts are impersonal, phone calls are deep. That's just how it is.
3) If you go on a date and the date refuses to hold your hand that is sitting in an inviting position on the movie theatre chair so close to your arm you can feel the heat radiating off of it, you have been friend zoned. If this happens, save your dignity and run screaming in the opposite direction! You have definitely been friend zoned.
4) If you go out on a date and the date insists on paying for their own dinner after fifteen minutes of bartering back and forth, you have been friend zoned. Most girls will give in eventually, knowing they were just trying to be polite and not wanting to give off the gold digger vibe. But if in the end, if she pays, you have been friend zoned.
5) If there is no awkwardness between the two of you, you have been friend zoned. Friends are easy to talk to, to be around, to do anything with. Awkwardness is for two people who legitimately like each other and do not know how to express it. Thus, the awkward feeling at the end of the night when you don't know if you should kiss or just run and leave before stuff gets real. I don't mean so awkward you don't know what to talk about, I mean just the tiniest bit of awkwardness is enough to keep you safe from the friend zone a bit longer.
6) If you lean in to kiss a girl and she turns her cheek, you have been friend zoned. A girl may say she is just playing hard to get. Bull crap. If she likes you enough, she wants that kiss like she wants a new pair of Jessica Simpson pumps or a new puppy. She will return the kiss, even if it is just a peck kiss, if she is has any interest in being more than just friends.
7) If you only talk during the day and have no communication at night, you are in the friend zone. Girls, especially, like to talk at night when they can't sleep or when they are bored. I say this from personal experience. If we aren't texting you at night, you can be sure there is someone else who is not in the friend zone that we are.
8) If you are not already dating but a girl is dragging you to the mall to go shopping, you have been friend zoned. Unless you know the initial attraction is already there, then you are fine. Hey, you might get lucky in one of the dressing rooms (huge fantasy). However, if you have no idea where you stand with this girl, do not go shopping with her. It also depends on the type of shopping. If a girl is going shopping for a dress and invites you to come, you have been friend zoned. If she asks you to go shopping and then drags you into Victoria Secret and asks you how things look or if you like certain things, you may be safe.
9) If the girl you are interested in is telling you all about her problems with men, you are in the friend zone. If she is constantly blathering to you about how so and so doesn't like her or there is one guy she keeps bringing up, you are in the friend zone. She is trying to beat it into your brain that there is someone else that she likes. This guy may be real or fake, fake because she would rather be with an imaginary man than you. She could be testing the waters to see if this will make you jealous if she does like you. 99 percent of the time, this is not the case.
10) If a girl keeps reiterating that you are "such a good friend" you are waaaaaayyyyy deep in the friend zone. So deep, you are never coming out. The reason we are saying it over and over is because we have figured out that you like us and we do not like you back and are trying to keep you in the friend zone before things get weird and we can no longer hang out with you. We want to keep you around, but not like that.
11) If a girl avoids touching you, you are in the friend zone. If we like you, we will touch you. All over. We will touch your arms, your hair, your nose, your lips, your butt, anything that can be touched will be christened with our fingers at some point. Also, if she recoils from your touch, you are in the friend zone. We love when boys play with our hair, tickle us, hold our hands, put their hands on our legs, etc. If you aren't getting to do any of this, you are in the friend zone.
12) If a girl tells you that you are just friends, that's all you are. Period. You have been officially friend zoned. Stop attempting to bring yourself out of it. They could be sending you all the signals in the world but if she says it, that's all you are, a friend.
Now, be fully aware that there are exceptions to all of these rules. That exception will probably be the person you fall madly in love with. There will be a girl who will not hold your hand in the movies but then kisses you like you have never been kissed when the night is over. There will be someone who talks about how miserable their love life is and she/he is trying to gauge your attention to see if you can be a knight in shining armor to come rescue her. Unfortunately, this is normally a one time thing. If you are lucky, it will be a last time thing.
Sorry gents, my analogies and stuff really work better from a girl's point of view. I have tried to work y'all in as much as possible. Just replace girl with guy where it is appropriate. It will save me from trying to make things sound good and failing miserably. Anyhow, there will be someone who breaks all of these rules. You will feel you are so far in the friend zone that there is no hope and somehow you will be snatched out of it at the last second when you are so close to giving up. And the person who saves you may not be the person you are interested in.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Deep Blue Sea
Greetings from my dark quiet room,
I am supposed to be sleeping right now as I have class in about t- minus 7 hours. We have a guest speaker that I was supposed to do research on... that I admittedly did not do. Oh well, I guess she can tell me all about herself tomorrow during her little presentation. I am dreading the morning. Earlier tonight, I went back to the gym for the first time since before the weekend. I know, I know, super lazy. But I worked out for two hours and some change, and when I came home my shirt was soaked with perspiration. My roommate Chelsey wanted to go to Olive Garden and I was starving so I quickly took off my sweat drenched clothes and put on something else. When I took my bra off, it was two totally different colors. I was mystified! I showed Chelsey who thought it was just a two toned bra. No girl! That is my fat weeping because I beat it to death tonight at Cardio Party. I am almost 100 percent positive that I will absolutely without a doubt not be able to move tomorrow. These Tally hills should greet my calves with open arms tomorrow.
My other friend Chelsea and I have decided to go on vacation this spring break to Panama City beach. Neither of us are beach ready (she is, she's hawt fellas!), so we are committing to each other to get ready to break some hearts on the white sandy shores of the coast this summer. After we finished our Cardio Party class, we looked into the mirror and vowed to not look like we did at that moment when we arrived to the beaches. We even shook hands, pinky promised and kissed on it. Not kissed on the mouth you perverts, kissed hands while our pinkies were locked. That is some deep stuff. Like a binding curse or something. I am afraid what will happen if I don't keep my end of the promise, I might get struck down by lightening or eaten by a shark.
Speaking of sharks, I have a pretty funny story to tell. It was not what I was going to go with originally, but since I just said shark and my mind works in weird ways, I'll go ahead with this one. The other one can wait.
Every year before school ends, Discovery Channel presents the scariest small series special ever, Shark Week. Let's talk about this for a minute. Why in the wide world of Africa would you run this special on TV a week before all the little kiddos get out from school and practically trample each other trying to get to the beach? I mean what are they trying to do? I'll bet the Florida Tourism industry doesn't appreciate it very much. They probably all take huge Valiums to get them through the week as people cancel their hotel reservations due to survival of the fittest mode kicking in. Nothing is a bigger turn off to the water than watching someone on Discovery Channel get bitten in half.
Of course, I am a freak and enjoy stuff like this. Not the being bitten in half stuff, just Discovery Channel in general. I turned it on the other night hoping it would be a boring program and that I would be able to study. Bad choice. I ended up sitting on the edge of my seat with my eyes fixated on the screen. You would have thought I was one of the ones who discovered the strip of African rainforest that has yet to be explored, I was so into it. Needless to say, my parenting book sat on the other end of the couch like a teenage boy on his first date with a girl.
I watch Shark Week every year, all day long. I get so hooked. The shows give me awful nightmares sometimes, and then I hate myself for watching them. And for at least a month after, I refuse to get into any kind of water. I'll barely get into my own swimming pool even though the most dangerous thing in there is that freaky little vacuum thing.
Well, I broke my cardinal rule last summer when Destiny insisted that we go to the beach. So, I loaded her, my brother Tyler and He Who Must Not Be Named into my car and we went to Jacksonville beach. I told them on the way there that I was NOT getting in the water. They all told me I was stupid and that nothing was going to happen. Liars.
When we arrived, it was extremely hot and the water looked so inviting. The waves that washed up on the sand were like old friends waving me over for a visit. I became hypnotized and started to walk out into the water. It felt so good on my toes. Ah, what the heck, I thought. We all started a little game of catch with a Nerf football we had brought with us. No sooner than I got knee deep, I felt something. Something= worst pain I have ever felt in my life.
I freaked out and screamed like a lunatic thrashing in the water. Somewhere in my mind I thought, "Oh my, I have been bitten by a shark. That must be what this feels like. I am dying." Destiny swears to this day that I screamed I had actually been bitten and that people looked at me. I hope I didn't. I wouldn't put it past me though, I am way over the top sometimes.
Well I wasn't dying. I didn't see any blood so I started to rationalize that something else had gotten me. Maybe a sting ray or a jellyfish. By this time, my bf came over to get me and he carried me up out of the water. As I was being toted like a child, I looked. Sure enough, I had fallen victim to the vicious "bite" of a jellyfish. I could make out the little warps from where its stingers had touched my flesh. I was freaking out.
The thing about jellyfish venom is it is a neurotoxin, meaning it messes with the nerves in your body. My toes kept curling and uncurling involuntarily and there was a particularly nasty throb going up my thigh too close to some things for my comfort. I was whimpering about it while Dest, Tyler, and he stood around me. I was begging for anything, anything to make it stop. Destiny said for someone to pee on it. My boyfriend said, "Really?" Even though I was not in the mood to play around I proceeded to tease him. I pleaded with him to pee on my foot. After he asked me if I was sure, he proceeded to unzip his bathing suit. Before he could cast out his own line I yelled, "Are you stupid? There are children around! Put that thing away!" Haha, that still makes me laugh. Goes to show you how dumb he was. He was actually going to whip his penis out in front of God and everyone else. I have a terrible sense of humor.
I was so angry at them for making me get into the water. Of course, I went on my own free will, but I like to blame them when I tell this story. They dragged me out there against my better judgement. Terrible people really. Just kidding I love you Dest and Tyler.
I am a very dramatic person, so for the next two weeks I took pictures of it to document my battle scars. It actually looked really cool until my skin started flaking off. That was gross.
Lesson to be learned from this, do not watch Shark Week and get in the water a few days later. Bad things are bound to happen. Also, do not get into water you can't see down into if you are a scaredy cat like me, or just in general don't do it. Thank the Lord Panama City beach has water bluer than the prettiest pair of blue eyes I have ever seen.
I am supposed to be sleeping right now as I have class in about t- minus 7 hours. We have a guest speaker that I was supposed to do research on... that I admittedly did not do. Oh well, I guess she can tell me all about herself tomorrow during her little presentation. I am dreading the morning. Earlier tonight, I went back to the gym for the first time since before the weekend. I know, I know, super lazy. But I worked out for two hours and some change, and when I came home my shirt was soaked with perspiration. My roommate Chelsey wanted to go to Olive Garden and I was starving so I quickly took off my sweat drenched clothes and put on something else. When I took my bra off, it was two totally different colors. I was mystified! I showed Chelsey who thought it was just a two toned bra. No girl! That is my fat weeping because I beat it to death tonight at Cardio Party. I am almost 100 percent positive that I will absolutely without a doubt not be able to move tomorrow. These Tally hills should greet my calves with open arms tomorrow.
My other friend Chelsea and I have decided to go on vacation this spring break to Panama City beach. Neither of us are beach ready (she is, she's hawt fellas!), so we are committing to each other to get ready to break some hearts on the white sandy shores of the coast this summer. After we finished our Cardio Party class, we looked into the mirror and vowed to not look like we did at that moment when we arrived to the beaches. We even shook hands, pinky promised and kissed on it. Not kissed on the mouth you perverts, kissed hands while our pinkies were locked. That is some deep stuff. Like a binding curse or something. I am afraid what will happen if I don't keep my end of the promise, I might get struck down by lightening or eaten by a shark.
Speaking of sharks, I have a pretty funny story to tell. It was not what I was going to go with originally, but since I just said shark and my mind works in weird ways, I'll go ahead with this one. The other one can wait.
Every year before school ends, Discovery Channel presents the scariest small series special ever, Shark Week. Let's talk about this for a minute. Why in the wide world of Africa would you run this special on TV a week before all the little kiddos get out from school and practically trample each other trying to get to the beach? I mean what are they trying to do? I'll bet the Florida Tourism industry doesn't appreciate it very much. They probably all take huge Valiums to get them through the week as people cancel their hotel reservations due to survival of the fittest mode kicking in. Nothing is a bigger turn off to the water than watching someone on Discovery Channel get bitten in half.
Of course, I am a freak and enjoy stuff like this. Not the being bitten in half stuff, just Discovery Channel in general. I turned it on the other night hoping it would be a boring program and that I would be able to study. Bad choice. I ended up sitting on the edge of my seat with my eyes fixated on the screen. You would have thought I was one of the ones who discovered the strip of African rainforest that has yet to be explored, I was so into it. Needless to say, my parenting book sat on the other end of the couch like a teenage boy on his first date with a girl.
I watch Shark Week every year, all day long. I get so hooked. The shows give me awful nightmares sometimes, and then I hate myself for watching them. And for at least a month after, I refuse to get into any kind of water. I'll barely get into my own swimming pool even though the most dangerous thing in there is that freaky little vacuum thing.
Well, I broke my cardinal rule last summer when Destiny insisted that we go to the beach. So, I loaded her, my brother Tyler and He Who Must Not Be Named into my car and we went to Jacksonville beach. I told them on the way there that I was NOT getting in the water. They all told me I was stupid and that nothing was going to happen. Liars.
When we arrived, it was extremely hot and the water looked so inviting. The waves that washed up on the sand were like old friends waving me over for a visit. I became hypnotized and started to walk out into the water. It felt so good on my toes. Ah, what the heck, I thought. We all started a little game of catch with a Nerf football we had brought with us. No sooner than I got knee deep, I felt something. Something= worst pain I have ever felt in my life.
I freaked out and screamed like a lunatic thrashing in the water. Somewhere in my mind I thought, "Oh my, I have been bitten by a shark. That must be what this feels like. I am dying." Destiny swears to this day that I screamed I had actually been bitten and that people looked at me. I hope I didn't. I wouldn't put it past me though, I am way over the top sometimes.
Well I wasn't dying. I didn't see any blood so I started to rationalize that something else had gotten me. Maybe a sting ray or a jellyfish. By this time, my bf came over to get me and he carried me up out of the water. As I was being toted like a child, I looked. Sure enough, I had fallen victim to the vicious "bite" of a jellyfish. I could make out the little warps from where its stingers had touched my flesh. I was freaking out.
The thing about jellyfish venom is it is a neurotoxin, meaning it messes with the nerves in your body. My toes kept curling and uncurling involuntarily and there was a particularly nasty throb going up my thigh too close to some things for my comfort. I was whimpering about it while Dest, Tyler, and he stood around me. I was begging for anything, anything to make it stop. Destiny said for someone to pee on it. My boyfriend said, "Really?" Even though I was not in the mood to play around I proceeded to tease him. I pleaded with him to pee on my foot. After he asked me if I was sure, he proceeded to unzip his bathing suit. Before he could cast out his own line I yelled, "Are you stupid? There are children around! Put that thing away!" Haha, that still makes me laugh. Goes to show you how dumb he was. He was actually going to whip his penis out in front of God and everyone else. I have a terrible sense of humor.
I was so angry at them for making me get into the water. Of course, I went on my own free will, but I like to blame them when I tell this story. They dragged me out there against my better judgement. Terrible people really. Just kidding I love you Dest and Tyler.
I am a very dramatic person, so for the next two weeks I took pictures of it to document my battle scars. It actually looked really cool until my skin started flaking off. That was gross.
Lesson to be learned from this, do not watch Shark Week and get in the water a few days later. Bad things are bound to happen. Also, do not get into water you can't see down into if you are a scaredy cat like me, or just in general don't do it. Thank the Lord Panama City beach has water bluer than the prettiest pair of blue eyes I have ever seen.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Many Happy Returns
Hello all for the second time tonight,
I was determined that that last post that I posted literally five minutes ago would be my last. However, it was brought to my attention that my very dear friend Ashley Weil has a birthday today. Happy 22nd love! I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope you get lots of presents and birthday cake! Actually, I saw your birthday present on Facebook and it is beautiful! I don't think I will be getting a car for my upcoming 21st. You could always lend me the one you got a few months ago... Perks of a family member in the car business!
I cannot believe it was a year ago that I met Ashley. That day, I gained a roommate and a life long friend:
I came home from school one day about a week before Ashley moved in. Cassie was already back at the apartment from school. She informed me that we would be getting a new roommate. Ugh just freaking great! So far, Cassie and I had avoided the random roommate. However, we had gotten rid of three roommates recently. One went home to be breastfed for the rest of her life, one was Cassie's ex boyfriend, and the other went back home for family issues. So here we were, getting stuck with a random. Taytum came in and we all pondered aloud what she would be like and what was wrong with her if nobody else wanted to live with her.
Ashley arrived on a particularly nasty day for me. I was sent home from work for being "racist." Really? Me? I am sorry if I got a little touchy when a table full of middle aged church ladies, who just happened to be black, in their huge hats barked orders at me like I was an animal. One lady practically threw her plate of perfectly cooked pancakes in my arms, disgusted because they were not brown enough. The party started out as five, and eventually grew to eight. Cracker Barrel has this ridiculous rule: eight bring a date. This means that if there are eight or more people, you have to have someone else help you serve the party. I didn't think mine really counted since the 8th person showed up after everyone else got there food. Apparently, I was wrong. I can honestly say though, it wouldn't have mattered if these women each had a personal server. They would have been just as demanding and just as picky. I hate to sound like I am grouping people together, but they were that "type." I could always tell if guests were the "type" when I asked how they were doing and introduced myself. If they replied good or gave me something to go on to let me know they were decent people, they were not the type. If they immediately demanded coffee or tea, they were the type. These ladies were definitely the type, making orders like terrorist demand things in hostage situations. "Eggs really done with brown on them" = "I want fifty million dollars and a private plane ride out of here?" In the end, I ended up crying in the freezer after my asshole boss yelled at me in front of all of my co-workers. My friend Chelsea came and found me. She knew I was in there, she knows me too well.
Anyways, I was sent home. I was in a fit that someone had the audacity to call me racist. I grew up in Baker County where racism runs through people more than blood does. But I never considered myself to be one of them. I don't care if you are purple, people are people. Actually, I would probably like you more if you were purple, it's my favorite color. I had tear stained cheeks and was screeching into my phone to my Nanny when I walked up to my apartment. I saw a girl unloading her things and carrying them into my house along with the help of a guy. It could only be one person, my new roommate. She proceeded to say hello and I just looked at her and said, "You really picked the wrong day to move in," and brushed past her. Poor girl. She probably thought she was about to be condemned to a life of a bitch roommate.
Later on, I apologized and explained. I got my first good look at Ashley. She was tall and enviously skinny, and had a cute little hair cut. She had on running shorts and a t-shirt, she must work out. She didn't give me that weird vibe I normally get about people who are sketchy, but then again I never was good about sorting people out for myself, only for others. No weird piercings, she didn't smell bad. Hmm, I wondered why she wasn't living with people she knew and why she picked us? The girls who worked at the front desk of Boardwalk liked to gossip with Cassie and Taytum told them that Ashley had went through a list and hand selected us to be the ones she boarded with. Hmm...
Cassie, Taytum, and I learned that Ashley's birthday was the next day. Without her knowing, we went to Publix and got her a cake. Later that night, we surprised her with it. We all became friends instantly while we sat there talking and eating. A bond only a cake like that could have created. I think she was touched that three girls she had known for a little more than a day would recognize and celebrate her becoming 21.
Ashley's friend came to town. Apparently, she was from the middle of nowhere a few states away and was ready to throw down with her newly 21 year old bestie. She did what any good friend would do, got her drunk as skunk and held her hair back later that night. Cassie and I went somewhere and came in to see her holding a mop bucket on the bed puking. Poor girl! It was a sight though, one that I frequently laugh about because she tried to reintroduce herself to us.
We figured out there was nothing wrong with Ashley. She was as normal as any of the rest of us. Probably more so really. It was her jerk roommates who she was trying to escape from that led her to us. So thank you assholes, you lost an incredible friend to us.
Now here we are a year later. Ashley has graduated from FSU and doesn't live with us anymore but we all still talk and we miss her so! Many happy returns girl! I love you and miss you and Taytum being here everyday! Please make it up for my bday if you can. I may need you to hold back my hair and prevent me from introducing myself to people I already know!
I was determined that that last post that I posted literally five minutes ago would be my last. However, it was brought to my attention that my very dear friend Ashley Weil has a birthday today. Happy 22nd love! I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope you get lots of presents and birthday cake! Actually, I saw your birthday present on Facebook and it is beautiful! I don't think I will be getting a car for my upcoming 21st. You could always lend me the one you got a few months ago... Perks of a family member in the car business!
I cannot believe it was a year ago that I met Ashley. That day, I gained a roommate and a life long friend:
I came home from school one day about a week before Ashley moved in. Cassie was already back at the apartment from school. She informed me that we would be getting a new roommate. Ugh just freaking great! So far, Cassie and I had avoided the random roommate. However, we had gotten rid of three roommates recently. One went home to be breastfed for the rest of her life, one was Cassie's ex boyfriend, and the other went back home for family issues. So here we were, getting stuck with a random. Taytum came in and we all pondered aloud what she would be like and what was wrong with her if nobody else wanted to live with her.
Ashley arrived on a particularly nasty day for me. I was sent home from work for being "racist." Really? Me? I am sorry if I got a little touchy when a table full of middle aged church ladies, who just happened to be black, in their huge hats barked orders at me like I was an animal. One lady practically threw her plate of perfectly cooked pancakes in my arms, disgusted because they were not brown enough. The party started out as five, and eventually grew to eight. Cracker Barrel has this ridiculous rule: eight bring a date. This means that if there are eight or more people, you have to have someone else help you serve the party. I didn't think mine really counted since the 8th person showed up after everyone else got there food. Apparently, I was wrong. I can honestly say though, it wouldn't have mattered if these women each had a personal server. They would have been just as demanding and just as picky. I hate to sound like I am grouping people together, but they were that "type." I could always tell if guests were the "type" when I asked how they were doing and introduced myself. If they replied good or gave me something to go on to let me know they were decent people, they were not the type. If they immediately demanded coffee or tea, they were the type. These ladies were definitely the type, making orders like terrorist demand things in hostage situations. "Eggs really done with brown on them" = "I want fifty million dollars and a private plane ride out of here?" In the end, I ended up crying in the freezer after my asshole boss yelled at me in front of all of my co-workers. My friend Chelsea came and found me. She knew I was in there, she knows me too well.
Anyways, I was sent home. I was in a fit that someone had the audacity to call me racist. I grew up in Baker County where racism runs through people more than blood does. But I never considered myself to be one of them. I don't care if you are purple, people are people. Actually, I would probably like you more if you were purple, it's my favorite color. I had tear stained cheeks and was screeching into my phone to my Nanny when I walked up to my apartment. I saw a girl unloading her things and carrying them into my house along with the help of a guy. It could only be one person, my new roommate. She proceeded to say hello and I just looked at her and said, "You really picked the wrong day to move in," and brushed past her. Poor girl. She probably thought she was about to be condemned to a life of a bitch roommate.
Later on, I apologized and explained. I got my first good look at Ashley. She was tall and enviously skinny, and had a cute little hair cut. She had on running shorts and a t-shirt, she must work out. She didn't give me that weird vibe I normally get about people who are sketchy, but then again I never was good about sorting people out for myself, only for others. No weird piercings, she didn't smell bad. Hmm, I wondered why she wasn't living with people she knew and why she picked us? The girls who worked at the front desk of Boardwalk liked to gossip with Cassie and Taytum told them that Ashley had went through a list and hand selected us to be the ones she boarded with. Hmm...
Cassie, Taytum, and I learned that Ashley's birthday was the next day. Without her knowing, we went to Publix and got her a cake. Later that night, we surprised her with it. We all became friends instantly while we sat there talking and eating. A bond only a cake like that could have created. I think she was touched that three girls she had known for a little more than a day would recognize and celebrate her becoming 21.
Ashley's friend came to town. Apparently, she was from the middle of nowhere a few states away and was ready to throw down with her newly 21 year old bestie. She did what any good friend would do, got her drunk as skunk and held her hair back later that night. Cassie and I went somewhere and came in to see her holding a mop bucket on the bed puking. Poor girl! It was a sight though, one that I frequently laugh about because she tried to reintroduce herself to us.
We figured out there was nothing wrong with Ashley. She was as normal as any of the rest of us. Probably more so really. It was her jerk roommates who she was trying to escape from that led her to us. So thank you assholes, you lost an incredible friend to us.
Now here we are a year later. Ashley has graduated from FSU and doesn't live with us anymore but we all still talk and we miss her so! Many happy returns girl! I love you and miss you and Taytum being here everyday! Please make it up for my bday if you can. I may need you to hold back my hair and prevent me from introducing myself to people I already know!
Writer's Block
Hello all from my awkward crossed leg position on the couch,
I am having serious writer's block and decided to ask two of my beautiful roommates what I should write about tonight. Chelsey is neck deep in a personal project that I am dying to see the end product of. So my only response was from Cassie, who is laying on the adjacent couch twirling her feet and browsing pinterest. She said, "You should write about how cute Matchew is." Matchew translates into Matthew from baby talk to English. As adorable as he is, I do not think I can make a whole blog about how he looks like Ben Affleck's little brother.
In the midst of writing this, Chelsey picked up some cough drops she bought earlier. Poor thing is sick. They are the Cepacol brand and are supposed to deliver a gentle warming sensation to relax the throat. She started to complain about how it was more like a forest fire than a sip of hot cocoa. The box ways warming on the front with a flame design underneath. They should have made the flames bigger, Chelsey keeps choking on the dangerous drop.
This reminded me of a funny story a friend of mine told me. This person shall remain anonymous as the story is kind of revealing and sexual. Let's just call this person Ann (ann= anonymous). Ann and a special person decided to experiment with a warming lubricant. The bottle persuaded them with the idea of a gentle warming sensation that was sure to give the sex a little kick. Unfortunately, the kick Ann received was more like being pile driven into a fire. She said she was on fire and that this product burned soo bad that she had to have it taken off right then by use of extreme measures (Ann's partner had to remove it by maneuvers of tongue). Ann said they would never use this again.
I feel bad for Ann. I couldn't imagine that kind of pain. It makes me cross my legs real tight if I try to think about it. But I can't help but laugh at what that was probably like. I would have freaked out if I felt the heat of that branding iron. It must have been awkwardly funny and probably something they will never forget.
I love how awkward stories turn into memories that I can laugh about later. It may suck at the time, but sometime in the future, my friends and I will laugh about it. I have one from this past weekend that was awful at the time, but just mere hours later I was cracking up telling Cassie about it.
As you all know, I went to Hamburger Mary's this weekend to chill with the drag queens. I said last time that my night ended when I got home. However, it did not. I proceeded to text someone who I enjoy late night canoodlings (canoodlings= staying up late talking about nothing in particular, amongst other things like sleeping) with. He was awake and drunk from a late night out. Somehow, like a few times before, I was easily enticed into joining him that evening at his place to hang out. His house is not right up the road like Sarah's is (perfect for our canoodlings), it is a good 45 minutes away. That may not seem like much but at 3:00 am, it is quite a drive. I cranked up my Hip Hop of 2000s radio and hopped on a creepy old back road.
Side story- Before I was out of the city limits, I stopped at a gas station to get a water. While there, I saw someone from the past. Sterling West was standing in line ahead of me. We went to high school together, except he was older than me. It was definitely him, just skinnier. He recognized me before I realized it was him. He came up and hugged me and asked how I had been. I told him I was doing pretty great, shockingly nothing earth shattering is going on in my life right now. Sterling proceeded to look around my shoulder and asked, "Is your boy out there with you?" I told him no, he was not and that we were no longer seeing each other. He asked why. I told him, "I am not up to his standards. Apparently, I do not look good enough for him." Of course, I was being sarcastic about the standards. I rolled my eyes and laughed when his eyes got huge. My one raised eyebrow told him I was not kidding. The sweet man behind the counter said, "Well, I don't know what he was looking at, but it sure wasn't you." Thank you kind sir at the gas station next to the China Buffet in Macclenny. You made my night.
I was back on the road heading out into the wilderness. I have this insane fear/fascination/obsession of deer on the side of the road. When my senior sweetie use to drive me home late at night from Jacksonville, I would stare out the window looking for them. When I would see one, I would freak out and scream "DEER!" and point frantically out the window like a child at a candy store. Somehow, he never saw them. I was always a little delayed in my reactions. Throw me a ball and it will smack my face, and then five seconds later my hands will grasp for the ball. I have also dropped my Iphone on my face several times while texting in bed. Text on your side folks, do not hold it over your face. That inflicts some serious damage.
That night I watched for the deer and when I saw a pack of like ten or so, I mentally willed them to stay on their side of the road. I really did not want to die because some buck ran out on the road. Nor did I want my car Mildred the Mazda to take a hit. She is fragile.
I arrived to my almost destination after a little over half an hour. The roads were in my favor that night, nobody on them except for the deer. I couldn't quite recall where he lived in this particular neighborhood so I asked for the address. I didn't get a response. A few minutes before, he said he was laying down and would leave the door unlocked for me so I could just walk in. Maybe he was asleep I thought. Drunk and 4 something in the morning were the perfect concoction for checking out for the night. No problem, I'll just find his truck which means I'll find his house which means I'll find a bed I was suddenly craving, along with a cold pillow that I could snuggle with. If he was asleep, we could just canoodle in the morning.
After an hour of circling the neighborhood, 57 attempted phone calls (literally, I freaked out with how insane I probably seemed... 57), and about 6 texts that got angrier and angrier as time went by, I gave up. I could not find his house. My Sherlock Holmes abilities had failed me. I seriously considered parking along the sidewalk and passing out. I was scared I would wake up to someone staring at me. I took a deep breath and hit the long ride back home. This time, 45 minutes seemed like 45 hours. My pandora station was the only thing that got me through it. I arrived home at 6 in the morning. I had literally watched the moon cross in the sky. Once I dragged myself up the stairs to my loft, I enabled the do not disturb settings on my Iphone. Not as kinky as it sounds but it is a nifty little device. I did not want anyone calling me until at least noon, nor did I want to receive the 20 odd text messages I always woke up to. Between Sarah, Destiny, and Kim I always had a page or two of some light reading to enjoy in the morning.
Sometime around 11, the beast awakened. I looked so ugly when I actually got out of bed. Probably a good thing my friend did not see me. I looked like hot damn. FYI, looking like hot damn is bad. It is Cassie's version of you look like crap. Of course, only this expression could be made up by her. Hot damn includes having mascara smeared down your cheeks from sweating it off in the night, lipstick smeared like you made out with a pig, and haystack hair. After I cleaned myself up, I looked at my phone. I had two texts from my friend apologizing for what had happened and swearing he would never do that to me on purpose. I felt bad, he was really sorry. I couldn't stay mad. He will make it up to me, he just doesn't know it yet.
I let it go, but I had a nagging question that was bothering me. I texted my friend and asked him where his truck was. He said it was in the shop and that he had a rental. It was being worked on because a deer ran into the side of it... I am not even going to go there.
Moral of the story, do not try to go visit a drunk man in the wee hours of the morning, they are like babies with warm milk and pass out cold. Or maybe the moral is this, ask for the address before you begin the journey or end up looking like a pedophile scoping out a new neighborhood for signs of children. Seriously, when I think about how crazy I must have looked (had anyone actually been out at 4 in the morning) all bent over the steering wheel, squinting out the windshield, I just giggle. There's always a crooked silver lining to every story, even if it is only to say you have a story to tell.
I am having serious writer's block and decided to ask two of my beautiful roommates what I should write about tonight. Chelsey is neck deep in a personal project that I am dying to see the end product of. So my only response was from Cassie, who is laying on the adjacent couch twirling her feet and browsing pinterest. She said, "You should write about how cute Matchew is." Matchew translates into Matthew from baby talk to English. As adorable as he is, I do not think I can make a whole blog about how he looks like Ben Affleck's little brother.
In the midst of writing this, Chelsey picked up some cough drops she bought earlier. Poor thing is sick. They are the Cepacol brand and are supposed to deliver a gentle warming sensation to relax the throat. She started to complain about how it was more like a forest fire than a sip of hot cocoa. The box ways warming on the front with a flame design underneath. They should have made the flames bigger, Chelsey keeps choking on the dangerous drop.
This reminded me of a funny story a friend of mine told me. This person shall remain anonymous as the story is kind of revealing and sexual. Let's just call this person Ann (ann= anonymous). Ann and a special person decided to experiment with a warming lubricant. The bottle persuaded them with the idea of a gentle warming sensation that was sure to give the sex a little kick. Unfortunately, the kick Ann received was more like being pile driven into a fire. She said she was on fire and that this product burned soo bad that she had to have it taken off right then by use of extreme measures (Ann's partner had to remove it by maneuvers of tongue). Ann said they would never use this again.
I feel bad for Ann. I couldn't imagine that kind of pain. It makes me cross my legs real tight if I try to think about it. But I can't help but laugh at what that was probably like. I would have freaked out if I felt the heat of that branding iron. It must have been awkwardly funny and probably something they will never forget.
I love how awkward stories turn into memories that I can laugh about later. It may suck at the time, but sometime in the future, my friends and I will laugh about it. I have one from this past weekend that was awful at the time, but just mere hours later I was cracking up telling Cassie about it.
As you all know, I went to Hamburger Mary's this weekend to chill with the drag queens. I said last time that my night ended when I got home. However, it did not. I proceeded to text someone who I enjoy late night canoodlings (canoodlings= staying up late talking about nothing in particular, amongst other things like sleeping) with. He was awake and drunk from a late night out. Somehow, like a few times before, I was easily enticed into joining him that evening at his place to hang out. His house is not right up the road like Sarah's is (perfect for our canoodlings), it is a good 45 minutes away. That may not seem like much but at 3:00 am, it is quite a drive. I cranked up my Hip Hop of 2000s radio and hopped on a creepy old back road.
Side story- Before I was out of the city limits, I stopped at a gas station to get a water. While there, I saw someone from the past. Sterling West was standing in line ahead of me. We went to high school together, except he was older than me. It was definitely him, just skinnier. He recognized me before I realized it was him. He came up and hugged me and asked how I had been. I told him I was doing pretty great, shockingly nothing earth shattering is going on in my life right now. Sterling proceeded to look around my shoulder and asked, "Is your boy out there with you?" I told him no, he was not and that we were no longer seeing each other. He asked why. I told him, "I am not up to his standards. Apparently, I do not look good enough for him." Of course, I was being sarcastic about the standards. I rolled my eyes and laughed when his eyes got huge. My one raised eyebrow told him I was not kidding. The sweet man behind the counter said, "Well, I don't know what he was looking at, but it sure wasn't you." Thank you kind sir at the gas station next to the China Buffet in Macclenny. You made my night.
I was back on the road heading out into the wilderness. I have this insane fear/fascination/obsession of deer on the side of the road. When my senior sweetie use to drive me home late at night from Jacksonville, I would stare out the window looking for them. When I would see one, I would freak out and scream "DEER!" and point frantically out the window like a child at a candy store. Somehow, he never saw them. I was always a little delayed in my reactions. Throw me a ball and it will smack my face, and then five seconds later my hands will grasp for the ball. I have also dropped my Iphone on my face several times while texting in bed. Text on your side folks, do not hold it over your face. That inflicts some serious damage.
That night I watched for the deer and when I saw a pack of like ten or so, I mentally willed them to stay on their side of the road. I really did not want to die because some buck ran out on the road. Nor did I want my car Mildred the Mazda to take a hit. She is fragile.
I arrived to my almost destination after a little over half an hour. The roads were in my favor that night, nobody on them except for the deer. I couldn't quite recall where he lived in this particular neighborhood so I asked for the address. I didn't get a response. A few minutes before, he said he was laying down and would leave the door unlocked for me so I could just walk in. Maybe he was asleep I thought. Drunk and 4 something in the morning were the perfect concoction for checking out for the night. No problem, I'll just find his truck which means I'll find his house which means I'll find a bed I was suddenly craving, along with a cold pillow that I could snuggle with. If he was asleep, we could just canoodle in the morning.
After an hour of circling the neighborhood, 57 attempted phone calls (literally, I freaked out with how insane I probably seemed... 57), and about 6 texts that got angrier and angrier as time went by, I gave up. I could not find his house. My Sherlock Holmes abilities had failed me. I seriously considered parking along the sidewalk and passing out. I was scared I would wake up to someone staring at me. I took a deep breath and hit the long ride back home. This time, 45 minutes seemed like 45 hours. My pandora station was the only thing that got me through it. I arrived home at 6 in the morning. I had literally watched the moon cross in the sky. Once I dragged myself up the stairs to my loft, I enabled the do not disturb settings on my Iphone. Not as kinky as it sounds but it is a nifty little device. I did not want anyone calling me until at least noon, nor did I want to receive the 20 odd text messages I always woke up to. Between Sarah, Destiny, and Kim I always had a page or two of some light reading to enjoy in the morning.
Sometime around 11, the beast awakened. I looked so ugly when I actually got out of bed. Probably a good thing my friend did not see me. I looked like hot damn. FYI, looking like hot damn is bad. It is Cassie's version of you look like crap. Of course, only this expression could be made up by her. Hot damn includes having mascara smeared down your cheeks from sweating it off in the night, lipstick smeared like you made out with a pig, and haystack hair. After I cleaned myself up, I looked at my phone. I had two texts from my friend apologizing for what had happened and swearing he would never do that to me on purpose. I felt bad, he was really sorry. I couldn't stay mad. He will make it up to me, he just doesn't know it yet.
I let it go, but I had a nagging question that was bothering me. I texted my friend and asked him where his truck was. He said it was in the shop and that he had a rental. It was being worked on because a deer ran into the side of it... I am not even going to go there.
Moral of the story, do not try to go visit a drunk man in the wee hours of the morning, they are like babies with warm milk and pass out cold. Or maybe the moral is this, ask for the address before you begin the journey or end up looking like a pedophile scoping out a new neighborhood for signs of children. Seriously, when I think about how crazy I must have looked (had anyone actually been out at 4 in the morning) all bent over the steering wheel, squinting out the windshield, I just giggle. There's always a crooked silver lining to every story, even if it is only to say you have a story to tell.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Drama Queen
Hello my fellow night owls,
My previous post was about some ultra fabulous drag queens and the subliminal message they send to others. After the idea was graciously given to me by the lovely Kaliee Raulerson, I would like to tell you all of a time that I was on a stage. It is one of my fondest high school memories and I believe that I would not be who I am today if I had not experienced being a part of a high school play.
Let me just start with saying that I think everyone should participate in high school drama. Do at least one play! I tried to persuade Cassie to be a tree or a rock several times. You don't have to have a big part to matter or even a part at all. If it is not your thing to be onstage, do something behind the scenes. If you have graduated already, check out your community theatre. There were always adults performing at the high school.
We all know how clique-y high school is. Nobody really hangs out with anyone else except their own circle of friends. Plays open you up to a whole new group of people, and I think that is just splendid. Everyone needs to get out of their comfort zone at some point. Theatre may be the easiest way to do it, too. Nobody gets a concussion from reading lines on a stage, unlike someone who has never picked up a football and decides to try out.
My love for movies, especially dramas, started early. Fox and the Hound was extremely traumatic! When I was a little girl, my daddy told me I should be on The Young and the Restless because I was such a drama queen. In high school, I decided to give my flair for the dramatics some exercise and I tried out for BCHS's production of Dracula.
I really didn't know what to expect when I walked in to the auditions, I figured I would wing it as usual. Mr. Gerard gave me some hope as he gave instructions on how the auditions would go, we could talk in a British accent if we could do one! I was immediately ecstatic! Finally, all the many hours of watching Harry Potter over and over would pay off. When Mr. Gerard called my name on the long list of students to go up and read lines, my heart sank to my feet. I was so scared. I have no idea why I was scared, I never got "stage fright" from anything like reading in front of a class. I did my best, letting my inner Hermione talk for me, and read my lines. I returned to my seat not knowing how to feel about it other than, "Omg, that was so fun!" Mr. G called me up a few times to read, but I didn't think anything of it because that's what he did with everyone else, too. At the end of auditions he told us he would post call backs the next day on the cafetorium door. Yeah, that's right, our school is so poor they combined our cafeteria and auditorium. I love it though, and wouldn't have it any other way.
The next day I was at lunch and saw a crowd of people around the door. CALL BACKS! I had completely forgotten. I approached the door, trying to plan it to where it didn't look like I was looking just in case I hadn't been called back. I didn't want to feel bad with everyone looking like, "That girl obviously sucked." To my delight and complete surprise, I was called back! I did mental back flips, since I couldn't do real ones. Well, I could, but they were inconsistent and sometimes ended with me on my face instead of my feet. I went to call backs and tried my hardest to be good. Mr. Gerard, aka fantastic play director, announced that the final list of assigned roles would be posted in the same spot the following day.
I practically ran up to school the next day, but stopped short of the double glass doors. I was nervous again. What if I did that all for nothing? What if he had really thought I was stupid and just wanted to keep me up there doing a crappy accent for kicks and giggles? After saying a small prayer, I began to look down the list, and my heart dropped and then sky rocketed back up to my throat. I had made it! I was Lucy! I didn't even know who she was except for the few lines of hers I read, but I was her and she was me! At that moment, I had never been more excited for something! Hmm, I really am dramatic, high school play= highlight of my life?
Play practice was to begin immediately. I cannot express how much I enjoyed these rehearsals. I made friends with people who I would never have hung out with in a million years. I don't mean that in a bad way, I just mean I never would have met them had it not been for this experience because most of them were older than I was and in different classes. Jamie Allyn is probably one of the coolest people I met. Something about her wreaks awesomeness. I found it amazing that she could transition from vampire chick to pageant queen. Kudos Jamie! I love your versatility.
I think the part of Lucy was perfect for me. She was a freak! Her attitude and personality went from poor and sickly little dove to vixen like flirt to murderous villain. The flirting with Dr. Van Helsing, aka Garret Lucas, scene was my favorite! I will mention here that I was dubbed Class Flirt as my senior superlative. Probably the proudest moment of my life! Josh Mobley and I have a picture in the yearbook amongst the Class Beauties and Most School Spirit that I will treasure forever. Anyways, Garret was tall, cute, and had a nerdy swagger with his little glasses that he wore that made the scene realistic for me, and it was by far the best. I loved being able to play someone else for a while and do different roles within the role. I put on that red scarf and lipstick and bam! I was someone entirely different from who I was at school. And I got to use this otherwise useless talent of doing accents. I was using that British accent so hard I feel like I should have been breaking for tea time and saying Lou instead of bathroom.
Also, I got to be killed on stage. Absolutely awesome! I loved screaming at the top of my lungs with fake blood running down my chin when Dr. Seward, aka my dad in the play, aka Spencer Norman Gerard, drove the collapsible stake into my heart while I lay in my coffin.
I even got my little sister involved in the play. Nina was about 6 at the time. She played a little girl from the town that I was terrorizing called Hampstead. I got to pick her up and pretend to bite her on the neck and throw her limp body on the ground. It is an experience unique to us that I will never forget.
Might I add, I got to wear porcelain fangs that were super cool and super uncomfortable. They gave me a terrible lisp that I hope was not obvious to the audience. Polydent is disgusting, I hope I never have to have dentures. Take care of your teeth people, you do not want that pink blob of awfulness anywhere near your tastebuds. Also, fake blood tastes like absolute sh&%. All the girls who got to use it, including myself, would run and spit it out gagging over the sink. It's a taste I never got used to. I'd have to equate it with licking the bottom of a shoe that was dipped in rubbing alcohol, add a dash of melted plastic. I don't actually know what any of these things taste like, but if I had to imagine...
I had several other small parts in The Wizard of Oz and Snow White. I got to be a belly dancer, a crow, an Ozian, and much more. I loved being other things and changing costumes and putting on the different make up! The more the merrier really.
Before I performed with my high school, I had never seen a play of any kind. Now I am proud to say I am an avid Wicked freak! It is the best Broadway play ever and I have the soundtrack on my Ipod. The point is, this experience opened a door for me that I had not noticed was in my imaginary hallway of possible doors. I love theatre and everything it embodies. So, to Mr. Gerard, I am forever thankful. Thank you for offering me that opportunity my sophomore year. I will never forget it.
The point of me telling this story is not to brag about a small role I had in a high school play. It is to motivate you all to try breaking out of your shell and doing something awesome. Do new, scary things and meet awesome new people. In a perfect world, I would love to act professionally. I may not be good enough with technique or really know what I am doing, but I have the heart and thirst to learn. If you think you can do something, even if you have your doubts, do it! One of my favorite quotes comes from the movie "We Bought a Zoo" and it says, "All you need is twenty seconds of insane courage and something amazing will come out of it." The memories I made and the laughs I had are enough for me to thank myself and God for giving me those 20 seconds that it took for me to push open the doors of the cafetorium and put my name on the sign up list of the auditions.
My previous post was about some ultra fabulous drag queens and the subliminal message they send to others. After the idea was graciously given to me by the lovely Kaliee Raulerson, I would like to tell you all of a time that I was on a stage. It is one of my fondest high school memories and I believe that I would not be who I am today if I had not experienced being a part of a high school play.
Let me just start with saying that I think everyone should participate in high school drama. Do at least one play! I tried to persuade Cassie to be a tree or a rock several times. You don't have to have a big part to matter or even a part at all. If it is not your thing to be onstage, do something behind the scenes. If you have graduated already, check out your community theatre. There were always adults performing at the high school.
We all know how clique-y high school is. Nobody really hangs out with anyone else except their own circle of friends. Plays open you up to a whole new group of people, and I think that is just splendid. Everyone needs to get out of their comfort zone at some point. Theatre may be the easiest way to do it, too. Nobody gets a concussion from reading lines on a stage, unlike someone who has never picked up a football and decides to try out.
My love for movies, especially dramas, started early. Fox and the Hound was extremely traumatic! When I was a little girl, my daddy told me I should be on The Young and the Restless because I was such a drama queen. In high school, I decided to give my flair for the dramatics some exercise and I tried out for BCHS's production of Dracula.
I really didn't know what to expect when I walked in to the auditions, I figured I would wing it as usual. Mr. Gerard gave me some hope as he gave instructions on how the auditions would go, we could talk in a British accent if we could do one! I was immediately ecstatic! Finally, all the many hours of watching Harry Potter over and over would pay off. When Mr. Gerard called my name on the long list of students to go up and read lines, my heart sank to my feet. I was so scared. I have no idea why I was scared, I never got "stage fright" from anything like reading in front of a class. I did my best, letting my inner Hermione talk for me, and read my lines. I returned to my seat not knowing how to feel about it other than, "Omg, that was so fun!" Mr. G called me up a few times to read, but I didn't think anything of it because that's what he did with everyone else, too. At the end of auditions he told us he would post call backs the next day on the cafetorium door. Yeah, that's right, our school is so poor they combined our cafeteria and auditorium. I love it though, and wouldn't have it any other way.
The next day I was at lunch and saw a crowd of people around the door. CALL BACKS! I had completely forgotten. I approached the door, trying to plan it to where it didn't look like I was looking just in case I hadn't been called back. I didn't want to feel bad with everyone looking like, "That girl obviously sucked." To my delight and complete surprise, I was called back! I did mental back flips, since I couldn't do real ones. Well, I could, but they were inconsistent and sometimes ended with me on my face instead of my feet. I went to call backs and tried my hardest to be good. Mr. Gerard, aka fantastic play director, announced that the final list of assigned roles would be posted in the same spot the following day.
I practically ran up to school the next day, but stopped short of the double glass doors. I was nervous again. What if I did that all for nothing? What if he had really thought I was stupid and just wanted to keep me up there doing a crappy accent for kicks and giggles? After saying a small prayer, I began to look down the list, and my heart dropped and then sky rocketed back up to my throat. I had made it! I was Lucy! I didn't even know who she was except for the few lines of hers I read, but I was her and she was me! At that moment, I had never been more excited for something! Hmm, I really am dramatic, high school play= highlight of my life?
Play practice was to begin immediately. I cannot express how much I enjoyed these rehearsals. I made friends with people who I would never have hung out with in a million years. I don't mean that in a bad way, I just mean I never would have met them had it not been for this experience because most of them were older than I was and in different classes. Jamie Allyn is probably one of the coolest people I met. Something about her wreaks awesomeness. I found it amazing that she could transition from vampire chick to pageant queen. Kudos Jamie! I love your versatility.
I think the part of Lucy was perfect for me. She was a freak! Her attitude and personality went from poor and sickly little dove to vixen like flirt to murderous villain. The flirting with Dr. Van Helsing, aka Garret Lucas, scene was my favorite! I will mention here that I was dubbed Class Flirt as my senior superlative. Probably the proudest moment of my life! Josh Mobley and I have a picture in the yearbook amongst the Class Beauties and Most School Spirit that I will treasure forever. Anyways, Garret was tall, cute, and had a nerdy swagger with his little glasses that he wore that made the scene realistic for me, and it was by far the best. I loved being able to play someone else for a while and do different roles within the role. I put on that red scarf and lipstick and bam! I was someone entirely different from who I was at school. And I got to use this otherwise useless talent of doing accents. I was using that British accent so hard I feel like I should have been breaking for tea time and saying Lou instead of bathroom.
Also, I got to be killed on stage. Absolutely awesome! I loved screaming at the top of my lungs with fake blood running down my chin when Dr. Seward, aka my dad in the play, aka Spencer Norman Gerard, drove the collapsible stake into my heart while I lay in my coffin.
I even got my little sister involved in the play. Nina was about 6 at the time. She played a little girl from the town that I was terrorizing called Hampstead. I got to pick her up and pretend to bite her on the neck and throw her limp body on the ground. It is an experience unique to us that I will never forget.
Might I add, I got to wear porcelain fangs that were super cool and super uncomfortable. They gave me a terrible lisp that I hope was not obvious to the audience. Polydent is disgusting, I hope I never have to have dentures. Take care of your teeth people, you do not want that pink blob of awfulness anywhere near your tastebuds. Also, fake blood tastes like absolute sh&%. All the girls who got to use it, including myself, would run and spit it out gagging over the sink. It's a taste I never got used to. I'd have to equate it with licking the bottom of a shoe that was dipped in rubbing alcohol, add a dash of melted plastic. I don't actually know what any of these things taste like, but if I had to imagine...
I had several other small parts in The Wizard of Oz and Snow White. I got to be a belly dancer, a crow, an Ozian, and much more. I loved being other things and changing costumes and putting on the different make up! The more the merrier really.
Before I performed with my high school, I had never seen a play of any kind. Now I am proud to say I am an avid Wicked freak! It is the best Broadway play ever and I have the soundtrack on my Ipod. The point is, this experience opened a door for me that I had not noticed was in my imaginary hallway of possible doors. I love theatre and everything it embodies. So, to Mr. Gerard, I am forever thankful. Thank you for offering me that opportunity my sophomore year. I will never forget it.
The point of me telling this story is not to brag about a small role I had in a high school play. It is to motivate you all to try breaking out of your shell and doing something awesome. Do new, scary things and meet awesome new people. In a perfect world, I would love to act professionally. I may not be good enough with technique or really know what I am doing, but I have the heart and thirst to learn. If you think you can do something, even if you have your doubts, do it! One of my favorite quotes comes from the movie "We Bought a Zoo" and it says, "All you need is twenty seconds of insane courage and something amazing will come out of it." The memories I made and the laughs I had are enough for me to thank myself and God for giving me those 20 seconds that it took for me to push open the doors of the cafetorium and put my name on the sign up list of the auditions.
Fit for a Queen*
Greetings from sitting in front of the TV watching Plastic Wives,
Yes, this is what my night has resorted to, eating cabbage and watching the most ridiculous network on television, TLC. Kathy Griffin revealed a shocking truth to the FSU student body at POW WOW this year that TLC stood for The Learning Channel... I never would have guessed. I suppose Gypsy Sisters Third Cousins Removed Weddings and Honey Boo Boo child marathons are really educational somewhere. I feel ashamed sometimes that this is what other countries think about our culture. Too shamed as Destiny would say. I am not hating on these shows, I sit here and watch them religiously. However, I wouldn't use them and educational in the same paragraph, let alone the same sentence. Anything that says, "a dolla makes me holla" is killing brain cells.
Speaking of women who look like men (I mean seriously, some of those "gypsies" are so unnatural looking it is scary. It's like they inject self tanner into their veins), I did something interesting this weekend. Taytum, Cassie, Destiny, Sierra and I all went out for a girl's night. Except this was no ordinary G.N.O, we embarked into the mysterious world of Drag Queens at a quaint little place called Hamburger Mary's.
For those of you who live under a rock, a drag queen is a man who dresses up in women's make up and clothing. I have to say, some of them looked really legit. Not the slightest penis bulge in sight. Destiny asked me what they did with their junk and I told her that if they didn't have an actual sex change, they simply tucked it up in their hiney crack. I have never seen an expression come across anyone's face like the one that she managed to make. It was a cross between, "Ow, I just stubbed my toe," "Ew, someone farted," and "Omg, that is hilarious."
I personally do not know how men deal with something swinging around in between their legs. I'd probably do the trusty tuck, too, if I was a man. Maybe I would like it if I was a man??? Hmm, these are the questions I ponder about while eating Sour Patch kids. Must be something in the candy. Like maybe that powdery sour stuff is really crack.
Anyhow, back to the ultra fabulous queens. When we arrived at Hamburger Mary's there was a wait. We had made reservations under my name earlier that week when Taytum had this genius idea. However, being the divas that they are, the queens were running late so we had to wait at the cantina bar outside. We sat and talked overly loud for about thirty minutes before we got to go inside. You would have thought we were shouting across a football field. Nothing mixes better than a little Three Olives and girl talk.
Once we got inside and after Cassie asked/demanded we be sat closer to the stage, the show began. It was astonishingly great! They were hilarious! Their boobs all looked so real! Like real-er than mine! After an hour of feathered boas, extra high heels, and powder blue eye shadow, the show proceeded to end with a game of song suicide. This is where the queens come up on the stage and they play random songs and the queens improvise quickly with a made up on the spot routine. One of the songs was Supercalifragialisticexpealidocious (spell check flipped a lid when I typed this in. It's out of commission with a headache) from Mary Poppins. The queen from Orlando in a shiny, tight, gold dress with one boob concealed and the other exposed with a pasty on her nipple got shot dead with this one. She proceeded to shake her whole body at warp speed. The breast that was exposed was doing the helicopter, around and around in a distorted circle. I couldn't help but stare. I was hypnotized. Beware all drag queen enthusiasts, do not look into the boob! LOOK AWAY!!!!!
Some of the songs they played were country songs. Most of the restaurant guests piped down when they came on, except for our table. We all freaked out like we were at a Reba concert when Fancy came on. We got really vocal on the , "I might have been born just plain white trash" part, literally screeching at the top of our lungs. True Baker Countians. Sierra is not a Baker County native, but that night she was adopted into the family, where she will forever remain.
It was the perfect girls night, full of friends, music, fried mac and cheese balls and balls balls. Definitely one for the history books. My friends and I have made a promise that we will return to Hamburger Mary's soon. I have to say, it is on the list of future bachelorette events. I promise to always write about these outings and the craziness they bring.
I must say, I really admire these woMen. They embrace who they are and flaunt it hard. I have traits and aspects of myself that I do everything in my power to hide and conceal, but they let it all hang out. The queens taught me to relish in my weirdness (more so than I already do) and that you can never wear too much mascara. The subliminal message, I think, is this: be who you are, take risks, have fun and do not be ashamed of yourself. Don't wear emeralds in your imaginary crown if rubies are your thing. Something like that anyways.
Yes, this is what my night has resorted to, eating cabbage and watching the most ridiculous network on television, TLC. Kathy Griffin revealed a shocking truth to the FSU student body at POW WOW this year that TLC stood for The Learning Channel... I never would have guessed. I suppose Gypsy Sisters Third Cousins Removed Weddings and Honey Boo Boo child marathons are really educational somewhere. I feel ashamed sometimes that this is what other countries think about our culture. Too shamed as Destiny would say. I am not hating on these shows, I sit here and watch them religiously. However, I wouldn't use them and educational in the same paragraph, let alone the same sentence. Anything that says, "a dolla makes me holla" is killing brain cells.
Speaking of women who look like men (I mean seriously, some of those "gypsies" are so unnatural looking it is scary. It's like they inject self tanner into their veins), I did something interesting this weekend. Taytum, Cassie, Destiny, Sierra and I all went out for a girl's night. Except this was no ordinary G.N.O, we embarked into the mysterious world of Drag Queens at a quaint little place called Hamburger Mary's.
For those of you who live under a rock, a drag queen is a man who dresses up in women's make up and clothing. I have to say, some of them looked really legit. Not the slightest penis bulge in sight. Destiny asked me what they did with their junk and I told her that if they didn't have an actual sex change, they simply tucked it up in their hiney crack. I have never seen an expression come across anyone's face like the one that she managed to make. It was a cross between, "Ow, I just stubbed my toe," "Ew, someone farted," and "Omg, that is hilarious."
I personally do not know how men deal with something swinging around in between their legs. I'd probably do the trusty tuck, too, if I was a man. Maybe I would like it if I was a man??? Hmm, these are the questions I ponder about while eating Sour Patch kids. Must be something in the candy. Like maybe that powdery sour stuff is really crack.
Anyhow, back to the ultra fabulous queens. When we arrived at Hamburger Mary's there was a wait. We had made reservations under my name earlier that week when Taytum had this genius idea. However, being the divas that they are, the queens were running late so we had to wait at the cantina bar outside. We sat and talked overly loud for about thirty minutes before we got to go inside. You would have thought we were shouting across a football field. Nothing mixes better than a little Three Olives and girl talk.
Once we got inside and after Cassie asked/demanded we be sat closer to the stage, the show began. It was astonishingly great! They were hilarious! Their boobs all looked so real! Like real-er than mine! After an hour of feathered boas, extra high heels, and powder blue eye shadow, the show proceeded to end with a game of song suicide. This is where the queens come up on the stage and they play random songs and the queens improvise quickly with a made up on the spot routine. One of the songs was Supercalifragialisticexpealidocious (spell check flipped a lid when I typed this in. It's out of commission with a headache) from Mary Poppins. The queen from Orlando in a shiny, tight, gold dress with one boob concealed and the other exposed with a pasty on her nipple got shot dead with this one. She proceeded to shake her whole body at warp speed. The breast that was exposed was doing the helicopter, around and around in a distorted circle. I couldn't help but stare. I was hypnotized. Beware all drag queen enthusiasts, do not look into the boob! LOOK AWAY!!!!!
Some of the songs they played were country songs. Most of the restaurant guests piped down when they came on, except for our table. We all freaked out like we were at a Reba concert when Fancy came on. We got really vocal on the , "I might have been born just plain white trash" part, literally screeching at the top of our lungs. True Baker Countians. Sierra is not a Baker County native, but that night she was adopted into the family, where she will forever remain.
It was the perfect girls night, full of friends, music, fried mac and cheese balls and balls balls. Definitely one for the history books. My friends and I have made a promise that we will return to Hamburger Mary's soon. I have to say, it is on the list of future bachelorette events. I promise to always write about these outings and the craziness they bring.
I must say, I really admire these woMen. They embrace who they are and flaunt it hard. I have traits and aspects of myself that I do everything in my power to hide and conceal, but they let it all hang out. The queens taught me to relish in my weirdness (more so than I already do) and that you can never wear too much mascara. The subliminal message, I think, is this: be who you are, take risks, have fun and do not be ashamed of yourself. Don't wear emeralds in your imaginary crown if rubies are your thing. Something like that anyways.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Hazard to your Health
Hello all from the loft,
This is the name I have bestowed upon my humble housing accommodations in Glen. The loft is a one bedroom apartment stacked neatly on top of my barn. Yes, I do have a barn. I practically grew up in it. This probably has something to do with the way I act now. You know that old saying, "...must have been raised in a barn!"? Indeed, this applies to me. I had a room for all my horse tack and gear that I called my "office" and I would spend hours in there hiding from my Papa or Dad when I was mad at them. I used to tell them I was going to live out there. I probably would have, too, if Papa would have put a bed out there like he said he was going to. I think he didn't because he knew I really would stay out there.
Actually, I have two nicely sized homes that I could stay in, three if you count my Mom's in Jacksonville, but I choose to stay up here like a cardinal in her nest. I'm not sure why I picked the cardinal as my soul bird. Maybe because my Grandma likes them? What's your soul bird?
I told myself I was going to hold off on the lovey dovey crap for a few days, but given the things that I continue to see on Facebook... Well, I just feel it is necessary to discuss when you become a hazard to yourself, particularly to your heart.
I am a sucker for love. I believe in it and its potent powers to the fullest. It is one of the strongest forces that this world encompasses. This must be why it hurts so darn bad when love goes awry. This has to be why we equate breaking things when love goes wrong. It is so fierce, it can break you.
Typically, I say it is the person who does the hurting who is at fault. After all, you didn't ask to have your feelings crushed like ice for a Sno-cone. No, you didn't. However, I think it is safe to say that after you're waist deep in the bull crap, after countless chances, and 6th 3rd strikes, the heartache that don't stop hurting is now on your own shoulders.
I would like to start by saying, there is always that one guy/gal that you do stupid stuff for. For example, driving to your hometown that is 2 and a half hours away at 2 in the morning after you just worked an eight hour shit, uh.. I mean shift, just to cuddle and play guitar hero. However, let's not confuse this with acting stupid over someone. Acting stupid over someone is when the heartache becomes your own fault. These are the some of the ways that I try to not "act stupid."
When someone tells you that they never want to talk to you again, do NOT, I repeat do NOT: text, call, sign, talk, signal via smoke, send Hedwig with a message, or whatever form of communication you choose, this person. Especially, do not do it first. This person may have made a mistake in saying this. Now, how someone accidentally says don't talk to me again, I really don't know. That's like saying you accidentally took a whole bottle of Tylenol.... They didn't just walk up your nose. Perhaps tempers were running high and it just slipped out, they didn't really mean it. But when you call someone or make the first move after they have said this to you, you are basically saying, "Hey, that's okay! You totally just ran over me like a deer on the interstate but I am willing to forget about it." Good for you for attempting to be the "bigger person" but really it just makes you look like the bigger fool. It is the job of the person who said they never want to see you again to realize that their life is nothing without your awesome self and that they are miserable and will beg at your feet to get you back if you deem it necessary. If not, move on.
Can we talk about this break thing? Okay, the term break is what we use as a get out of a relationship free card. By free I mean emotionally free from the inevitable break down from the dumpee. I mean, nobody wants to see someone else cry, that's sadistic. 99% of the time someone who wants a break wants a few weeks to chill out before he/she starts up a new relationship with the person they have been talking to on the side. It is not just the men who use this nifty tactic. Yes, women pull out the break card, too. We aren't innocent. I have whipped mine out a few times. I feel like a jerk about it, but at the time I was afraid I would hurt the person's feelings. But giving someone that hope, that small flicker of a flame when you know you aren't ever coming back from your break is far more wicked and cruel than just giving them a nice clean break up. It may suck at the time, for both people really. Nobody wants to see someone have a freak out and cry. If someone is telling you they want a break, do yourself a favor and just call it quits then. What most likely will happen is not something you want to stick around for.
Stop reading their social networking outlets. No Facebook, no Twitter, no Instagram, no blog (you know, for all my secret lovers out there). Do yourself some good and cut off all ties unless you are really over them. I refuse to add people to my means of social communication because of the simple fact that I do not want to see if they are having a great life without me. Because really, what if they are? How are you going to feel after you see something like an ex partying it up on a white sand beach with a beautiful new someone somewhere while you wallow in your robe with your new boyfriends Ben and Jerry? Not good, I'd imagine. If you can look at them, and smile instead of saying over and over that you are fine, congratulations, you are over it. If you can't, well you aren't ready to look at their stuff.
Quit being miserable! If you sit at home watching the Notebook and listening to old sad songs while wearing his old tshirt, you are never going to feel any better.I would say his/her t-shirt but boys really shouldn't wear their gf's tees. It's a bit strange. Go out and make new friends or just hang out with the tried and true ones who are already in your circle. Embrace being on your own. I personally have never had a problem with doing things by myself. In fact, I find it quite liberating and exhilarating to do things on my own. My friends think I am weird for going to eat lunch somewhere or to see a movie by myself. It is a little weird, but let's be honest, I am a lot weird. In a good way though. At least I think it is a good way.
I'd like to throw this in, stop whining about it on Facebook. You know, I thought girls would be worse about this, but I am starting to see it is the men who are the virtual whiners. You are supposed to be men for goodness sake! Grow some balls! Quit trash talking your ex, stop posting sad love lyrics, or talking about how lonely you are, just stop! It is not getting you the kind of attention you want from the new prospective women. Yes, we women like to take broken things and nurture them back to health, but not if it is going to bitch about some ex girlfriend every second of the day. It is decently okay for girls to post T. Swift lyrics, but come on guys! Have some backbone! Go out with your buds and drink some Buds if that's what it takes!
I will say, there will be a time and a person where none of this applies, where that tough boy/girl attitude just absolutely fails to stand up for you. You will have a heartbreak that will leave you wanting to go beat down this person's door in the middle of the night and demand a redo. You will call, text, send Hedwig with a letter or try anything to get them to talk to you. You will stalk their Facebook and act like someone who should be on the ID channel. You will post whiny T. Swift lyrics (applicable to girls only, guys should never!). You will not want to leave your room for anything other than food. You will listen to every sad song you can think of and then relate them all to you and your sad life. You will want to tear your hair out and cry and just have a mental breakdown from this particular break up. I have been there. It sucks. That is life. But I can say, you will get through it. Do not stop treading water, the island of relief is closer than you think.
So, don't give those 6th 3rd strikes, don't make excuses for someone who doesn't show any interest in you other than the negative variety. Leave with your head held high and crown firmly in place. After all, your king/queen is out there looking for you too, you don't want to look a mess.
This is the name I have bestowed upon my humble housing accommodations in Glen. The loft is a one bedroom apartment stacked neatly on top of my barn. Yes, I do have a barn. I practically grew up in it. This probably has something to do with the way I act now. You know that old saying, "...must have been raised in a barn!"? Indeed, this applies to me. I had a room for all my horse tack and gear that I called my "office" and I would spend hours in there hiding from my Papa or Dad when I was mad at them. I used to tell them I was going to live out there. I probably would have, too, if Papa would have put a bed out there like he said he was going to. I think he didn't because he knew I really would stay out there.
Actually, I have two nicely sized homes that I could stay in, three if you count my Mom's in Jacksonville, but I choose to stay up here like a cardinal in her nest. I'm not sure why I picked the cardinal as my soul bird. Maybe because my Grandma likes them? What's your soul bird?
I told myself I was going to hold off on the lovey dovey crap for a few days, but given the things that I continue to see on Facebook... Well, I just feel it is necessary to discuss when you become a hazard to yourself, particularly to your heart.
I am a sucker for love. I believe in it and its potent powers to the fullest. It is one of the strongest forces that this world encompasses. This must be why it hurts so darn bad when love goes awry. This has to be why we equate breaking things when love goes wrong. It is so fierce, it can break you.
Typically, I say it is the person who does the hurting who is at fault. After all, you didn't ask to have your feelings crushed like ice for a Sno-cone. No, you didn't. However, I think it is safe to say that after you're waist deep in the bull crap, after countless chances, and 6th 3rd strikes, the heartache that don't stop hurting is now on your own shoulders.
I would like to start by saying, there is always that one guy/gal that you do stupid stuff for. For example, driving to your hometown that is 2 and a half hours away at 2 in the morning after you just worked an eight hour shit, uh.. I mean shift, just to cuddle and play guitar hero. However, let's not confuse this with acting stupid over someone. Acting stupid over someone is when the heartache becomes your own fault. These are the some of the ways that I try to not "act stupid."
When someone tells you that they never want to talk to you again, do NOT, I repeat do NOT: text, call, sign, talk, signal via smoke, send Hedwig with a message, or whatever form of communication you choose, this person. Especially, do not do it first. This person may have made a mistake in saying this. Now, how someone accidentally says don't talk to me again, I really don't know. That's like saying you accidentally took a whole bottle of Tylenol.... They didn't just walk up your nose. Perhaps tempers were running high and it just slipped out, they didn't really mean it. But when you call someone or make the first move after they have said this to you, you are basically saying, "Hey, that's okay! You totally just ran over me like a deer on the interstate but I am willing to forget about it." Good for you for attempting to be the "bigger person" but really it just makes you look like the bigger fool. It is the job of the person who said they never want to see you again to realize that their life is nothing without your awesome self and that they are miserable and will beg at your feet to get you back if you deem it necessary. If not, move on.
Can we talk about this break thing? Okay, the term break is what we use as a get out of a relationship free card. By free I mean emotionally free from the inevitable break down from the dumpee. I mean, nobody wants to see someone else cry, that's sadistic. 99% of the time someone who wants a break wants a few weeks to chill out before he/she starts up a new relationship with the person they have been talking to on the side. It is not just the men who use this nifty tactic. Yes, women pull out the break card, too. We aren't innocent. I have whipped mine out a few times. I feel like a jerk about it, but at the time I was afraid I would hurt the person's feelings. But giving someone that hope, that small flicker of a flame when you know you aren't ever coming back from your break is far more wicked and cruel than just giving them a nice clean break up. It may suck at the time, for both people really. Nobody wants to see someone have a freak out and cry. If someone is telling you they want a break, do yourself a favor and just call it quits then. What most likely will happen is not something you want to stick around for.
Stop reading their social networking outlets. No Facebook, no Twitter, no Instagram, no blog (you know, for all my secret lovers out there). Do yourself some good and cut off all ties unless you are really over them. I refuse to add people to my means of social communication because of the simple fact that I do not want to see if they are having a great life without me. Because really, what if they are? How are you going to feel after you see something like an ex partying it up on a white sand beach with a beautiful new someone somewhere while you wallow in your robe with your new boyfriends Ben and Jerry? Not good, I'd imagine. If you can look at them, and smile instead of saying over and over that you are fine, congratulations, you are over it. If you can't, well you aren't ready to look at their stuff.
Quit being miserable! If you sit at home watching the Notebook and listening to old sad songs while wearing his old tshirt, you are never going to feel any better.I would say his/her t-shirt but boys really shouldn't wear their gf's tees. It's a bit strange. Go out and make new friends or just hang out with the tried and true ones who are already in your circle. Embrace being on your own. I personally have never had a problem with doing things by myself. In fact, I find it quite liberating and exhilarating to do things on my own. My friends think I am weird for going to eat lunch somewhere or to see a movie by myself. It is a little weird, but let's be honest, I am a lot weird. In a good way though. At least I think it is a good way.
I'd like to throw this in, stop whining about it on Facebook. You know, I thought girls would be worse about this, but I am starting to see it is the men who are the virtual whiners. You are supposed to be men for goodness sake! Grow some balls! Quit trash talking your ex, stop posting sad love lyrics, or talking about how lonely you are, just stop! It is not getting you the kind of attention you want from the new prospective women. Yes, we women like to take broken things and nurture them back to health, but not if it is going to bitch about some ex girlfriend every second of the day. It is decently okay for girls to post T. Swift lyrics, but come on guys! Have some backbone! Go out with your buds and drink some Buds if that's what it takes!
I will say, there will be a time and a person where none of this applies, where that tough boy/girl attitude just absolutely fails to stand up for you. You will have a heartbreak that will leave you wanting to go beat down this person's door in the middle of the night and demand a redo. You will call, text, send Hedwig with a letter or try anything to get them to talk to you. You will stalk their Facebook and act like someone who should be on the ID channel. You will post whiny T. Swift lyrics (applicable to girls only, guys should never!). You will not want to leave your room for anything other than food. You will listen to every sad song you can think of and then relate them all to you and your sad life. You will want to tear your hair out and cry and just have a mental breakdown from this particular break up. I have been there. It sucks. That is life. But I can say, you will get through it. Do not stop treading water, the island of relief is closer than you think.
So, don't give those 6th 3rd strikes, don't make excuses for someone who doesn't show any interest in you other than the negative variety. Leave with your head held high and crown firmly in place. After all, your king/queen is out there looking for you too, you don't want to look a mess.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Glitter on the Floor
I just posted about the perfect gift guide to making a man's shopping experience this Valentine's Day as painless as possible. While writing it, I thought about a particularly funny story from my past. Readers, you will learn that I have a library of funny and embarrassing stories about myself. In light of the upcoming day of love, I feel it is appropriate to tell this story.
I was in the sixth grade and ugly as sin. I didn't know what a hair straightener was, nor a pair of tweezers. Looking back now, we all looked like that so I guess I shouldn't be too ashamed. I was in advanced classes and we had our own little section in the middle school. My class had two teachers with two conjoining classrooms, combined by a bathroom in the middle.
There was this boy named Nathan and I was madly infatuated with him. Like I said, looking back at old pictures, we were all ugly so I am not sure why I liked him, but back then he was gorgeous to me. I doodled his name on my notebook, daydreamed about him, and tried to talk to him any chance I could. I was one freaky obsessed chick.
Middle school was the era of the magazine. Whether it was Seventeen, People, or Cosmo, I was reading them. I had a particular interest in the part where people submitted embarrassing stories or just cute stories about themselves and things that happened to them. Hmm... Maybe I should have started a blog a long time ago? Anyways, there was a Valentine's Day issue and it was talking about all the love that went right. I was so interested because I felt like maybe if I did something like the girls in this magazine, Nathan would notice me. There was one story in particular about a woman who set up a coworkers desk with a balloon, confetti and a card professing her love. You can probably see where this is going by now. This story caught my attention and I said to myself, "Maybe I could do this with his desk at school."
I got all the necessary things to prepare Nathan's desk right down to the heart confetti. While we were in Mrs. Gidden's class, I said I needed to use the restroom and snuck into Mr. Griffis' room to set my scene up. I tied the balloon to the back of the chair, put the confetti all over the desk and the card in the chair. At the time, this seemed like a bold, daring, sweet move. Good Lord was I stupid. This was 6th grade! You don't do things that bring attention to you in the 6th grade. It normally doesn't turn out well.
Well, class dismissed and we all walked over to Mr. G's room. Nathan, along with everyone else, saw my crazy profession of "love." He turned beet red and there were a few snickers escaping the mouths of my classmates. I didn't think anything of it. I just wanted to know if he liked it or not. For the rest of the day, everywhere he walked he shed confetti. You could tell where he had walked in the room due to the trail of it he left behind. Poor boy was probably so embarrassed! He didn't admit it to me though. Actually, we "dated" for like three days after that. He probably did it because he felt bad that I had done that and didn't want me to feel like a loser. Thanks Nathan!
But you know, doing that got me what I wanted. He was my boyfriend for all of three days but that made me happy. I don't remember being sad when we broke up. I didn't know any better in 6th grade.
I guess the moral to this story is take chances, it may get you what you want. However, you may want to leave the confetti at home. By taking chances I don't mean do what I did, it was stupid and embarrassing. However, I now have a hilarious story to tell. That's another moral I would like to point out. Although things that happen to you in your life may not go as planned, or things may not turn out how you want them to, you will always have a story to tell.
At this time I would like to thank all those who have been reading this blog. I enjoy sharing the tales of my life with all of you!
I was in the sixth grade and ugly as sin. I didn't know what a hair straightener was, nor a pair of tweezers. Looking back now, we all looked like that so I guess I shouldn't be too ashamed. I was in advanced classes and we had our own little section in the middle school. My class had two teachers with two conjoining classrooms, combined by a bathroom in the middle.
There was this boy named Nathan and I was madly infatuated with him. Like I said, looking back at old pictures, we were all ugly so I am not sure why I liked him, but back then he was gorgeous to me. I doodled his name on my notebook, daydreamed about him, and tried to talk to him any chance I could. I was one freaky obsessed chick.
Middle school was the era of the magazine. Whether it was Seventeen, People, or Cosmo, I was reading them. I had a particular interest in the part where people submitted embarrassing stories or just cute stories about themselves and things that happened to them. Hmm... Maybe I should have started a blog a long time ago? Anyways, there was a Valentine's Day issue and it was talking about all the love that went right. I was so interested because I felt like maybe if I did something like the girls in this magazine, Nathan would notice me. There was one story in particular about a woman who set up a coworkers desk with a balloon, confetti and a card professing her love. You can probably see where this is going by now. This story caught my attention and I said to myself, "Maybe I could do this with his desk at school."
I got all the necessary things to prepare Nathan's desk right down to the heart confetti. While we were in Mrs. Gidden's class, I said I needed to use the restroom and snuck into Mr. Griffis' room to set my scene up. I tied the balloon to the back of the chair, put the confetti all over the desk and the card in the chair. At the time, this seemed like a bold, daring, sweet move. Good Lord was I stupid. This was 6th grade! You don't do things that bring attention to you in the 6th grade. It normally doesn't turn out well.
Well, class dismissed and we all walked over to Mr. G's room. Nathan, along with everyone else, saw my crazy profession of "love." He turned beet red and there were a few snickers escaping the mouths of my classmates. I didn't think anything of it. I just wanted to know if he liked it or not. For the rest of the day, everywhere he walked he shed confetti. You could tell where he had walked in the room due to the trail of it he left behind. Poor boy was probably so embarrassed! He didn't admit it to me though. Actually, we "dated" for like three days after that. He probably did it because he felt bad that I had done that and didn't want me to feel like a loser. Thanks Nathan!
But you know, doing that got me what I wanted. He was my boyfriend for all of three days but that made me happy. I don't remember being sad when we broke up. I didn't know any better in 6th grade.
I guess the moral to this story is take chances, it may get you what you want. However, you may want to leave the confetti at home. By taking chances I don't mean do what I did, it was stupid and embarrassing. However, I now have a hilarious story to tell. That's another moral I would like to point out. Although things that happen to you in your life may not go as planned, or things may not turn out how you want them to, you will always have a story to tell.
At this time I would like to thank all those who have been reading this blog. I enjoy sharing the tales of my life with all of you!
Cupid's Chokehold
Hello all from my sickbed,
Sorry for the delay in posting, I needed to gather ideas and rid myself of the green monster of snot that has built itself inside my respiratory tract. The gathering of ideas for this post was a success, defeating the snot queen and her minions, not so much. I felt decent enough to get my butt out of bed for a few hours though to go to Jersey Mikes to indulge in a 2 dollar sub. Dinner for 2 bucks in Tally is a rare find my friends, Cassie and I felt that we had to take advantage. We also went to the movies to see Lincoln. It was okay, wait for it to come out on Redbox. Can I just mention that I really hate that the Redbox rates have went up to 1.29?!?!?! Of course, everyone will still buy them, but the beauty of it was in the one dollar price. Why did they have to go and ruin such a marvelous thing?
I was at Wal-Mart a few nights ago, purchasing some Mucinex DM (God's gift to sick people) and I saw that they were setting up for the best holiday of the year, Valentine's Day. Ah yes, bring on the overstuffed, over priced teddy bears and heart-shaped everything. I don't know why girls say they hate Valentine's day. Please, girl, shut up. Deep down inside your big toe, you love it.
Now something may have caused you to be bitter about this day. Perhaps you got sent a bouquet of flowers with "I love you Jenny" by your boyfriend but your name is Molly and you now know he is cheating on you. Ouch, okay it may be acceptable for you to hate Valentine's day then. But that is the only reason. But these people who throw anti-cupid parties just because they don't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend are ridiculous. Don't hate on the overstuffed bears and those heart candies with the messages on them, embrace them. Even if you have to buy a bag of them for yourself, celebrate this marvelous day. Love yourself.
As I looked around at the 3 foot tall cards and cherub balloons I started thinking about the men who have to buy their loved ones gifts. I feel as though this may be really intimidating to a man, what with all the frilly pink girly stuff. One could easily get scared off and sidetracked. Their minds go from, "Hmm... would she like this?" to "Oh God, does she even like pink? Isn't she allergic to chocolate? Or wait, is it nuts?" Then somehow, like magic, they end up in the gun and fishing rod section and the whole shopping trip is a fail.
I'll admit, my boyfriends never had it easy. You see, my birthday is February 16th. To those of you who passed the first grade, that is a mere two days after Valentine's Day. However, those two days might as well have been two months to me. I refused to celebrate the two events together. I had to have separate gifts or outings for both. Not that they had to be expensive tokens of affection, I just wanted them to be separate. I think I like the idea of opening something or doing something twice more than I actually care for the present. Good thing for most men, you aren't dating me, so you only have to do this once.
Fear not gentlemen, I have here the perfect guide to giving that special someone the perfect gift. Best of all, it's free! Probably the only free thing you will buy this Valentine's Day so take full advantage. Some of the ideas I am putting in here are also free, they just require a bit of time, thought and effort which we know you are all capable of from the way you plan assaults on Call of Duty. So below is a list of things you may want to consider before buying your gf her gift. Think carefully now and choose wisely, this could determine the amount of "sugars" you get this coming year.
1) Handmade cards- Have you looked at the price of those 3 foot tall cards? If you haven't, they are a whopping 20 dollars!!! Most of the time, the sayings on the inside are not that great. Personally, I love cards, especially the dirty ones. I think they are hilarious and they make me giggle. In fact, every girl I have talked to recently about the matter say they really love cards. However, it has come to my attention that handmade cards are soo much better than the ones from a store. As you may or may not know, Cassie's boyfriend is a marine. For nine months all they really had to go on was snail mail. I remember one care in particular that came to her in the mail. It was a bear from a Teddy Graham's box with its arms spread open. Matt had taken a black sharpie and wrote the words I love you this much between them. It was sooooo CUTE! We sat there and oogled over it for quite some time. The fact that it was handmade made the card so much better. Anyone can just buy a card, but it takes a lot of love and creativity to make one yourself. Now, don't get discouraged if you are not the best writer or if you don't know where to start, just break out the colored paper and scissors and start. Trust me, it's the fact that you took some time to do this and actually thought about it that we adore. It could look like a second grader's macaroni art project, but 9 times out of ten your girl will love it. The man who makes me a card that says, "I love you like Dobby loves socks," will be the man I marry. Just saying.
2) Candy- Every girl loves candy. I think it is pretty self explanatory. Figure out what her favorite candy is, buy it, put in cute bag or simply lay it out on table. Some people with creative minds have come up with sayings to write on the boxes that go a long with the name of the candy. Pinterest is loaded with these ideas. Most are really cheesy, but hey, we eat that cheesy crap up! I've seen things from sticking a note on a box of Swedish Fish saying "you're a really great catch," to "you stole a piece of my heart" on a box of Reesee's pieces. Dorky and corny, but cute! Now don't get too imaginative and say something like, "I love you more than all the candy in this box" when it's single serve bag of M&Ms. There are only like 20 pieces, that's not a whole lot of love.
3) Jewelry- Now this is a biggie. If you are going to purchase jewelry, make sure it is the type of metal she likes. If you notice that your gf never wears yellow gold, do not buy her yellow gold! There is probably a reason she doesn't wear it, that reason being that she doesn't like it. Go easy on the design of the jewelry. There are only so many things we can wear a big heart pendant with a ruby stone with. If you want to see her wear it all the time, get her something she can wear all the time. Stick to clear stones (diamonds, white sapphires, etc) or go with her favorite color, and go with simple, pretty and classy designs. Myself and friends alike prefer necklaces with skinny chains, box being the strongest and best. I personally like pearls and amethysts. Look through her stuff and take notice of what she wears. If you notice she already has a bracelet that she wears all the time, try to find some earrings or a ring that matches. Some of you reading this may not be able to afford jewelry. Totally fine! There are plenty of other options on this list.
4) Stuffed Animals- I personally am a sucker for the stuffies! If you any of you have seen Valentine's Day the movie, I am Taylor Swift carrying that big bear into the elevator. However, some girls, like Cassie, HATE stuffed animals. Or at least the over-sized obnoxious ones. She feels that they sit around collecting dust and taking up space. One year, I was with Cassie and her boyfriend at the time walking around Wal-Mart a few days before Valentine's Day when she professed aloud that she detested stuffed animals. Poor Ryan's face grew whiter than usual. When the big day arrived, Cassie walked out to her car to find a huge stuffed dog strapped into the front seat. Before she could even lie and say she loved it Ryan said, "Oh hush I already know you hate it!" While I would have loved the stuffed animal, some girls just do not like them. If you are not sure whether she likes them or not, go for a smaller teddy and leave the life-sized ones on the shelf.
5) Outings- When I say outings, I mean any kind of date, whether it be going to dinner, going to a movie, or just out in the public in general. This year, I encourage you men to get off the beaten track. Don't take her somewhere you always go! Men in Macclenny, Woody's is NOT and I repeat NOT Valentine's Day worthy! Not that it doesn't have decent food or anything... just don't do it. Try going somewhere neither of you have been before, it can be an experience you always remember. Pick somewhere quaint and with a low people capacity. Nobody likes to be crowded when they are trying to fondle under the table or trying to do naughty things to each other with their eyes. If you go to the movies, give in and let it be a girly movie. Trust me, there are always girly movies on Valentine's Day. If girly movies aren't her thing, fine. Just use good judgement. If you know she really wants to see mushy gushy love fest, don't take her to see Revenge of the Blood-Sucking Zombies. The longest it will be is 2 hours and she will love you for it.
These are just general things I have heard that girls like. I myself am in favor of all of them. I'd like to offer some advice out of my own personal repertoire.
* Surprise her- If it is one thing girls love, whether they admit it or not, it's being surprised. Say you get her something like candy or flowers. Don't just set them out and say here you go. Put them somewhere she will not suspect or give them to her at a random time. One of my roommates Ashley had to wait all day to get her Valentine's Day present. She was so angry and thought Ryan had forgotten about her, but when it came to the door, she was soo excited and happy.
*Handmade is best- I already said this with the card, just try it! Candy cards are my favorite right now. Its where you glue certain candy bars or candies to a big piece of cardboard with a storyline. You use the candy bars to fill in certain parts to the story. I am doing a horrible job of describing this, just google it.
*Flowers- Yeah they are pretty useless after a few days but every girl needs flowers on Valentine's Day.
*Make her dinner- Cooking for a girl is sexy as hell. Even if you suck at it, it's still cute and we appreciate the effort. If you end up having to order in pizza or go somewhere because the Chicken Parmesan looks more like charbroiled burgers, that's okay. I am pretty sure someone wrote a country song about that. Everybody knows that country songs are like a bible for love.
* Take a walk- It doesn't sound very romantic right now, but add some sand, the waves gently breaking on the shore, and a little bit of moonlight and you have yourself a picture perfect ending to Valentine's Day. The beach, a lake, or a picturesque park are all good ideas. I've had walks on the beach that ended very nicely for my at the time boyfriend and I. We barely made it back to the car.
*Sing/play for her- Maybe it's because I was raised in the South but nothing is sexier to me than a boy who can strum on a guitar. Huge turn on, well, for me at least! If you can't sing, it's still kinda cute. If you sound like William Hung, please revisit the other ideas on this list, I am sure you can find one to suit your liking.
*Spend time with her- It's not necessarily the amount of money you spend on presents during Valentine's day. It's the amount of time. Honestly, we just want your attention and affection. Don't take that for granted.
* Burn a CD- This is an oldie but a goodie. Put all "your" songs onto a blank CD and stick it in her CD player in her car before she goes to work/school/ etc. It is a nice surprise to have something like that, and it means a lot that you carefully selected each song because it meant something to the both of you.
* DO NOT FORGET IT IS VALENTINE'S DAY- Period. End of story. Wal-Mart started putting out decorations the day after New Years. There is no excuse. Write it on your forehead if you have to. DO NOT FORGET!
*Momma- Don't forget about your momma or your grandma. You wouldn't be here had it not been for them. It doesn't have to be an extravagant present, just a card or even just a good hug. Mom's are suckers for that stuff!
All in all, it's not the amount of money you spend, but the amount of thought and heart you put into your gift to your significant other. We aren't asking for an island (although that would be pretty freaking sweet), we just ask to be recognized.
Sorry for the delay in posting, I needed to gather ideas and rid myself of the green monster of snot that has built itself inside my respiratory tract. The gathering of ideas for this post was a success, defeating the snot queen and her minions, not so much. I felt decent enough to get my butt out of bed for a few hours though to go to Jersey Mikes to indulge in a 2 dollar sub. Dinner for 2 bucks in Tally is a rare find my friends, Cassie and I felt that we had to take advantage. We also went to the movies to see Lincoln. It was okay, wait for it to come out on Redbox. Can I just mention that I really hate that the Redbox rates have went up to 1.29?!?!?! Of course, everyone will still buy them, but the beauty of it was in the one dollar price. Why did they have to go and ruin such a marvelous thing?
I was at Wal-Mart a few nights ago, purchasing some Mucinex DM (God's gift to sick people) and I saw that they were setting up for the best holiday of the year, Valentine's Day. Ah yes, bring on the overstuffed, over priced teddy bears and heart-shaped everything. I don't know why girls say they hate Valentine's day. Please, girl, shut up. Deep down inside your big toe, you love it.
Now something may have caused you to be bitter about this day. Perhaps you got sent a bouquet of flowers with "I love you Jenny" by your boyfriend but your name is Molly and you now know he is cheating on you. Ouch, okay it may be acceptable for you to hate Valentine's day then. But that is the only reason. But these people who throw anti-cupid parties just because they don't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend are ridiculous. Don't hate on the overstuffed bears and those heart candies with the messages on them, embrace them. Even if you have to buy a bag of them for yourself, celebrate this marvelous day. Love yourself.
As I looked around at the 3 foot tall cards and cherub balloons I started thinking about the men who have to buy their loved ones gifts. I feel as though this may be really intimidating to a man, what with all the frilly pink girly stuff. One could easily get scared off and sidetracked. Their minds go from, "Hmm... would she like this?" to "Oh God, does she even like pink? Isn't she allergic to chocolate? Or wait, is it nuts?" Then somehow, like magic, they end up in the gun and fishing rod section and the whole shopping trip is a fail.
I'll admit, my boyfriends never had it easy. You see, my birthday is February 16th. To those of you who passed the first grade, that is a mere two days after Valentine's Day. However, those two days might as well have been two months to me. I refused to celebrate the two events together. I had to have separate gifts or outings for both. Not that they had to be expensive tokens of affection, I just wanted them to be separate. I think I like the idea of opening something or doing something twice more than I actually care for the present. Good thing for most men, you aren't dating me, so you only have to do this once.
Fear not gentlemen, I have here the perfect guide to giving that special someone the perfect gift. Best of all, it's free! Probably the only free thing you will buy this Valentine's Day so take full advantage. Some of the ideas I am putting in here are also free, they just require a bit of time, thought and effort which we know you are all capable of from the way you plan assaults on Call of Duty. So below is a list of things you may want to consider before buying your gf her gift. Think carefully now and choose wisely, this could determine the amount of "sugars" you get this coming year.
1) Handmade cards- Have you looked at the price of those 3 foot tall cards? If you haven't, they are a whopping 20 dollars!!! Most of the time, the sayings on the inside are not that great. Personally, I love cards, especially the dirty ones. I think they are hilarious and they make me giggle. In fact, every girl I have talked to recently about the matter say they really love cards. However, it has come to my attention that handmade cards are soo much better than the ones from a store. As you may or may not know, Cassie's boyfriend is a marine. For nine months all they really had to go on was snail mail. I remember one care in particular that came to her in the mail. It was a bear from a Teddy Graham's box with its arms spread open. Matt had taken a black sharpie and wrote the words I love you this much between them. It was sooooo CUTE! We sat there and oogled over it for quite some time. The fact that it was handmade made the card so much better. Anyone can just buy a card, but it takes a lot of love and creativity to make one yourself. Now, don't get discouraged if you are not the best writer or if you don't know where to start, just break out the colored paper and scissors and start. Trust me, it's the fact that you took some time to do this and actually thought about it that we adore. It could look like a second grader's macaroni art project, but 9 times out of ten your girl will love it. The man who makes me a card that says, "I love you like Dobby loves socks," will be the man I marry. Just saying.
2) Candy- Every girl loves candy. I think it is pretty self explanatory. Figure out what her favorite candy is, buy it, put in cute bag or simply lay it out on table. Some people with creative minds have come up with sayings to write on the boxes that go a long with the name of the candy. Pinterest is loaded with these ideas. Most are really cheesy, but hey, we eat that cheesy crap up! I've seen things from sticking a note on a box of Swedish Fish saying "you're a really great catch," to "you stole a piece of my heart" on a box of Reesee's pieces. Dorky and corny, but cute! Now don't get too imaginative and say something like, "I love you more than all the candy in this box" when it's single serve bag of M&Ms. There are only like 20 pieces, that's not a whole lot of love.
3) Jewelry- Now this is a biggie. If you are going to purchase jewelry, make sure it is the type of metal she likes. If you notice that your gf never wears yellow gold, do not buy her yellow gold! There is probably a reason she doesn't wear it, that reason being that she doesn't like it. Go easy on the design of the jewelry. There are only so many things we can wear a big heart pendant with a ruby stone with. If you want to see her wear it all the time, get her something she can wear all the time. Stick to clear stones (diamonds, white sapphires, etc) or go with her favorite color, and go with simple, pretty and classy designs. Myself and friends alike prefer necklaces with skinny chains, box being the strongest and best. I personally like pearls and amethysts. Look through her stuff and take notice of what she wears. If you notice she already has a bracelet that she wears all the time, try to find some earrings or a ring that matches. Some of you reading this may not be able to afford jewelry. Totally fine! There are plenty of other options on this list.
4) Stuffed Animals- I personally am a sucker for the stuffies! If you any of you have seen Valentine's Day the movie, I am Taylor Swift carrying that big bear into the elevator. However, some girls, like Cassie, HATE stuffed animals. Or at least the over-sized obnoxious ones. She feels that they sit around collecting dust and taking up space. One year, I was with Cassie and her boyfriend at the time walking around Wal-Mart a few days before Valentine's Day when she professed aloud that she detested stuffed animals. Poor Ryan's face grew whiter than usual. When the big day arrived, Cassie walked out to her car to find a huge stuffed dog strapped into the front seat. Before she could even lie and say she loved it Ryan said, "Oh hush I already know you hate it!" While I would have loved the stuffed animal, some girls just do not like them. If you are not sure whether she likes them or not, go for a smaller teddy and leave the life-sized ones on the shelf.
5) Outings- When I say outings, I mean any kind of date, whether it be going to dinner, going to a movie, or just out in the public in general. This year, I encourage you men to get off the beaten track. Don't take her somewhere you always go! Men in Macclenny, Woody's is NOT and I repeat NOT Valentine's Day worthy! Not that it doesn't have decent food or anything... just don't do it. Try going somewhere neither of you have been before, it can be an experience you always remember. Pick somewhere quaint and with a low people capacity. Nobody likes to be crowded when they are trying to fondle under the table or trying to do naughty things to each other with their eyes. If you go to the movies, give in and let it be a girly movie. Trust me, there are always girly movies on Valentine's Day. If girly movies aren't her thing, fine. Just use good judgement. If you know she really wants to see mushy gushy love fest, don't take her to see Revenge of the Blood-Sucking Zombies. The longest it will be is 2 hours and she will love you for it.
These are just general things I have heard that girls like. I myself am in favor of all of them. I'd like to offer some advice out of my own personal repertoire.
* Surprise her- If it is one thing girls love, whether they admit it or not, it's being surprised. Say you get her something like candy or flowers. Don't just set them out and say here you go. Put them somewhere she will not suspect or give them to her at a random time. One of my roommates Ashley had to wait all day to get her Valentine's Day present. She was so angry and thought Ryan had forgotten about her, but when it came to the door, she was soo excited and happy.
*Handmade is best- I already said this with the card, just try it! Candy cards are my favorite right now. Its where you glue certain candy bars or candies to a big piece of cardboard with a storyline. You use the candy bars to fill in certain parts to the story. I am doing a horrible job of describing this, just google it.
*Flowers- Yeah they are pretty useless after a few days but every girl needs flowers on Valentine's Day.
*Make her dinner- Cooking for a girl is sexy as hell. Even if you suck at it, it's still cute and we appreciate the effort. If you end up having to order in pizza or go somewhere because the Chicken Parmesan looks more like charbroiled burgers, that's okay. I am pretty sure someone wrote a country song about that. Everybody knows that country songs are like a bible for love.
* Take a walk- It doesn't sound very romantic right now, but add some sand, the waves gently breaking on the shore, and a little bit of moonlight and you have yourself a picture perfect ending to Valentine's Day. The beach, a lake, or a picturesque park are all good ideas. I've had walks on the beach that ended very nicely for my at the time boyfriend and I. We barely made it back to the car.
*Sing/play for her- Maybe it's because I was raised in the South but nothing is sexier to me than a boy who can strum on a guitar. Huge turn on, well, for me at least! If you can't sing, it's still kinda cute. If you sound like William Hung, please revisit the other ideas on this list, I am sure you can find one to suit your liking.
*Spend time with her- It's not necessarily the amount of money you spend on presents during Valentine's day. It's the amount of time. Honestly, we just want your attention and affection. Don't take that for granted.
* Burn a CD- This is an oldie but a goodie. Put all "your" songs onto a blank CD and stick it in her CD player in her car before she goes to work/school/ etc. It is a nice surprise to have something like that, and it means a lot that you carefully selected each song because it meant something to the both of you.
* DO NOT FORGET IT IS VALENTINE'S DAY- Period. End of story. Wal-Mart started putting out decorations the day after New Years. There is no excuse. Write it on your forehead if you have to. DO NOT FORGET!
*Momma- Don't forget about your momma or your grandma. You wouldn't be here had it not been for them. It doesn't have to be an extravagant present, just a card or even just a good hug. Mom's are suckers for that stuff!
All in all, it's not the amount of money you spend, but the amount of thought and heart you put into your gift to your significant other. We aren't asking for an island (although that would be pretty freaking sweet), we just ask to be recognized.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Taylor Swift's Next Platinum Album Right Here
No intro this time, just jumping straight in to finish the Bryant saga.
I woke up from my nap and decided I was going to go back out to Jacksonville to see Wesley again. I was tired of waiting around and moping about something I knew was going to happen. We went out to dinner along with one of his friends Rob to a place called Harpoon Loui's. Best chicken and wild rice soup I have ever eaten! Bryant called me later after he got off work and asked me where I was, I told him I was in Jacksonville. Not a total lie I guess. He asked if I was with my mom, I said yes. Total lie. I felt bad for lying for about two seconds. He had been lying to me for months, every time he told me he loved me. I was on my way home to Macclenny when he called and that's when the cat ripped violently out of the burlap bag. He asked what it was I wanted to talk about anyways. I said us. Forgive me, this is paraphrased as I do not remember exactly my intro to our little falling out, but I remember the important stuff.
"I just don't feel like you are into me anymore. You don't kiss me, you don't touch me, we don't talk. I take off my clothes to change for bed and you just go straight to bed. Something is wrong. You are insulting my intelligence by saying otherwise. You say that there is nothing wrong, but I know that there is. So I need you to tell me right now. Just say it."
After a long pause he said, "Alright. You really want to know the truth?"
"Yes..." It was the moment I had been waiting on. I already knew what he was going to say.
"I just wished you looked like you used to."
While this was all going on, I had stopped for gas. I imagined taking the gas pump and sticking it in my mouth and lighting an imaginary match. I wasn't actually suicidal, my imagination just likes to run with the extremes. I let the words sink in. "I just wished you looked like you used to." I knew what he meant, he wished I wasn't on the heavier side. He wanted me to have my little cheerleader body. Hell, I wanted that too! As I returned the pump to the handle and slid back into my car, I let the silence awaken the dragon within.
"Well, excuse me sir but you don't look like you belong on the front of a GQ magazine yourself. How dare you! I cannot believe you are even saying this. Do you think that I don't want to be skinny again? Do you think I like looking at myself when I look like this? You don't know what it is like to be able to just buy things off the rack and then go to having to try every single thing on! Do you think I like going to the mall with all my friends and watching them just pick stuff up without a second thought!? I have to buy stuff just to not embarrass myself and then I have to take it back when they aren't with me! Who in the hell do you think you are?! I thought you were better than this!"
He just sat on the other end of the line in silence as I went on and on screaming and crying like a mad woman. I knew that he was going to say that he wasn't attracted anymore because I had gained weight. Deep down, I had known for months. But I was hoping he loved me enough to say, "But that's okay baby I love you and I am going to help you. We can go to the gym together, I'll eat salad with you instead of being an asshole and eating 20 chicken nuggets right in front of you because I know you love them so much." It never came though. He just let me go on.
"I can't believe you Bryant. Don't I mean more to you than that?! I love you. Don't you love me? I have been here with you through all of your court sh** and I have been on your side through anything you had going against you. I have done nothing but encourage you and try to get you to go back to school and better yourself. And you don't want me anymore because I am fatter now?! Good luck finding someone who is going to treat you and be there for you like I have. She isn't out there. Do you even love me?"
"Well of course I love you."
"Obviously not if you are letting something like this totally turn you off to our relationship and me."
"Well, I guess you have a point."
"Tell me you want this to work. Tell me you love me and that we can get through this right now. If you have any respect for me you will come over and say something."
Silence. At that moment, I lost every ounce of love I had for him.
"You aren't coming?"
"No, I am afraid you will hit me or something."
WOOOOOOOWWWWW! For the record, he is 6' 3" and I am 5' 3". And he is afraid of me. As if I could really inflict any actual damage.
"You are such a coward Bryant. I don't want this anymore, neither do you so let's just let it be."
I don't exactly remember the ending, the coward part is really all that has stuck with me. At some point I hung up on him. Ultimately, it was over. I am not sure why I wanted him to come over. I think I just felt so alone and I was still looking to him to be my comfort. I was so crazy that it didn't really sink in. I was trying to hate him and still hold on to him at the same time, but only for a split second. He didn't care anymore, why should I? I got home, thought seriously about sleeping in my car, and finally dragged myself up to my room. I left the tears in my car.
The next day I woke up with a lack of an appetite. I had just had someone close to me tell me he no longer wanted to be around me because I was fat. I repulsed him so much that he didn't want to touch me. If he didn't think I was pretty anymore, I wonder who else didn't. I didn't want to eat anything. I was determined not to eat until I lost weight. I would just drink water. Like I said, my imagination sometimes goes one step too far. Then my Nanny called and told me they were cooking lunch. When Nanny cooks, she cooks. And it is sooo delicious. I told Papa I wasn't hungry but he told me Gigi and Papa Joe were coming and that I had to come down.
I trudged over to their house with every intention of not eating. I walked into the kitchen with the smell of amazingness hitting my nostrils. It made my stomach churn. Not because I was hungry, but because the thought of eating and taking in calories made me sick. I watched everyone make their plates and settle down. I just kind of hung around in the back of the line. And then I saw them. My Nanny had cooked White Acre peas. Field peas and White Acre peas are my absolute favorite! I looked at them in the huge pot with a piece of bacon floating around in the middle. They were bubbling and the smell of them made my mouth water. I gave in and put a spoonful on my plate. Which lead to a spoonful of rice and then to a piece of ham.
Had it not been for my Nanny and those peas, I may have subjected myself to unfair bodily abuse. I would have starved myself for as long as I could. The longest I have ever went was when I broke up with my senior year sweetheart. That week, I lived off Coca Cola and water with the occasional saltine cracker. I knew it was possible. I tend to not eat when I am upset or sick because everything normally comes back up anyways. It doesn't have anything to do with weight or because it was over a boy or whatever, just how I have been since I was little. So, thank you for cooking that day Nanny. Love you!
I guess I should really thank Bryant. He has given me everything I need to get myself right and how I want to be. I want to have that butt I used to have and that flat belly that I took for granted. I have been working out and attempting to eat better. It's hard to break old habits. I never had to worry about what I was eating when I was cheerleading and taking extra tumbling classes because I was burning off everything I took in. I do not want to be stick skinny, I never was when I was younger and I don't believe I would look good like that. I'm not framed for stick skinny. My goal is to weigh 130 pounds. When I reach this goal, and I will, I will post my starting weight and before and after pictures.
On a final note, what goes around comes around really is a bitch. Recently, I have noticed pictures of Bryant cropping up on Facebook and all those partying nights at Mavericks appear to be really taking a toll on his body. Particularly in the belly region. Beer bellies don't look good on anyone, not even you sir. Also, his place of employment got demolished by a truck. If that is not a sign, I don't know what is. I believe you can make something out of nothing, but I don't think that applies in his case.
Checkmate, jerk.
I woke up from my nap and decided I was going to go back out to Jacksonville to see Wesley again. I was tired of waiting around and moping about something I knew was going to happen. We went out to dinner along with one of his friends Rob to a place called Harpoon Loui's. Best chicken and wild rice soup I have ever eaten! Bryant called me later after he got off work and asked me where I was, I told him I was in Jacksonville. Not a total lie I guess. He asked if I was with my mom, I said yes. Total lie. I felt bad for lying for about two seconds. He had been lying to me for months, every time he told me he loved me. I was on my way home to Macclenny when he called and that's when the cat ripped violently out of the burlap bag. He asked what it was I wanted to talk about anyways. I said us. Forgive me, this is paraphrased as I do not remember exactly my intro to our little falling out, but I remember the important stuff.
"I just don't feel like you are into me anymore. You don't kiss me, you don't touch me, we don't talk. I take off my clothes to change for bed and you just go straight to bed. Something is wrong. You are insulting my intelligence by saying otherwise. You say that there is nothing wrong, but I know that there is. So I need you to tell me right now. Just say it."
After a long pause he said, "Alright. You really want to know the truth?"
"Yes..." It was the moment I had been waiting on. I already knew what he was going to say.
"I just wished you looked like you used to."
While this was all going on, I had stopped for gas. I imagined taking the gas pump and sticking it in my mouth and lighting an imaginary match. I wasn't actually suicidal, my imagination just likes to run with the extremes. I let the words sink in. "I just wished you looked like you used to." I knew what he meant, he wished I wasn't on the heavier side. He wanted me to have my little cheerleader body. Hell, I wanted that too! As I returned the pump to the handle and slid back into my car, I let the silence awaken the dragon within.
"Well, excuse me sir but you don't look like you belong on the front of a GQ magazine yourself. How dare you! I cannot believe you are even saying this. Do you think that I don't want to be skinny again? Do you think I like looking at myself when I look like this? You don't know what it is like to be able to just buy things off the rack and then go to having to try every single thing on! Do you think I like going to the mall with all my friends and watching them just pick stuff up without a second thought!? I have to buy stuff just to not embarrass myself and then I have to take it back when they aren't with me! Who in the hell do you think you are?! I thought you were better than this!"
He just sat on the other end of the line in silence as I went on and on screaming and crying like a mad woman. I knew that he was going to say that he wasn't attracted anymore because I had gained weight. Deep down, I had known for months. But I was hoping he loved me enough to say, "But that's okay baby I love you and I am going to help you. We can go to the gym together, I'll eat salad with you instead of being an asshole and eating 20 chicken nuggets right in front of you because I know you love them so much." It never came though. He just let me go on.
"I can't believe you Bryant. Don't I mean more to you than that?! I love you. Don't you love me? I have been here with you through all of your court sh** and I have been on your side through anything you had going against you. I have done nothing but encourage you and try to get you to go back to school and better yourself. And you don't want me anymore because I am fatter now?! Good luck finding someone who is going to treat you and be there for you like I have. She isn't out there. Do you even love me?"
"Well of course I love you."
"Obviously not if you are letting something like this totally turn you off to our relationship and me."
"Well, I guess you have a point."
"Tell me you want this to work. Tell me you love me and that we can get through this right now. If you have any respect for me you will come over and say something."
Silence. At that moment, I lost every ounce of love I had for him.
"You aren't coming?"
"No, I am afraid you will hit me or something."
WOOOOOOOWWWWW! For the record, he is 6' 3" and I am 5' 3". And he is afraid of me. As if I could really inflict any actual damage.
"You are such a coward Bryant. I don't want this anymore, neither do you so let's just let it be."
I don't exactly remember the ending, the coward part is really all that has stuck with me. At some point I hung up on him. Ultimately, it was over. I am not sure why I wanted him to come over. I think I just felt so alone and I was still looking to him to be my comfort. I was so crazy that it didn't really sink in. I was trying to hate him and still hold on to him at the same time, but only for a split second. He didn't care anymore, why should I? I got home, thought seriously about sleeping in my car, and finally dragged myself up to my room. I left the tears in my car.
The next day I woke up with a lack of an appetite. I had just had someone close to me tell me he no longer wanted to be around me because I was fat. I repulsed him so much that he didn't want to touch me. If he didn't think I was pretty anymore, I wonder who else didn't. I didn't want to eat anything. I was determined not to eat until I lost weight. I would just drink water. Like I said, my imagination sometimes goes one step too far. Then my Nanny called and told me they were cooking lunch. When Nanny cooks, she cooks. And it is sooo delicious. I told Papa I wasn't hungry but he told me Gigi and Papa Joe were coming and that I had to come down.
I trudged over to their house with every intention of not eating. I walked into the kitchen with the smell of amazingness hitting my nostrils. It made my stomach churn. Not because I was hungry, but because the thought of eating and taking in calories made me sick. I watched everyone make their plates and settle down. I just kind of hung around in the back of the line. And then I saw them. My Nanny had cooked White Acre peas. Field peas and White Acre peas are my absolute favorite! I looked at them in the huge pot with a piece of bacon floating around in the middle. They were bubbling and the smell of them made my mouth water. I gave in and put a spoonful on my plate. Which lead to a spoonful of rice and then to a piece of ham.
Had it not been for my Nanny and those peas, I may have subjected myself to unfair bodily abuse. I would have starved myself for as long as I could. The longest I have ever went was when I broke up with my senior year sweetheart. That week, I lived off Coca Cola and water with the occasional saltine cracker. I knew it was possible. I tend to not eat when I am upset or sick because everything normally comes back up anyways. It doesn't have anything to do with weight or because it was over a boy or whatever, just how I have been since I was little. So, thank you for cooking that day Nanny. Love you!
I guess I should really thank Bryant. He has given me everything I need to get myself right and how I want to be. I want to have that butt I used to have and that flat belly that I took for granted. I have been working out and attempting to eat better. It's hard to break old habits. I never had to worry about what I was eating when I was cheerleading and taking extra tumbling classes because I was burning off everything I took in. I do not want to be stick skinny, I never was when I was younger and I don't believe I would look good like that. I'm not framed for stick skinny. My goal is to weigh 130 pounds. When I reach this goal, and I will, I will post my starting weight and before and after pictures.
On a final note, what goes around comes around really is a bitch. Recently, I have noticed pictures of Bryant cropping up on Facebook and all those partying nights at Mavericks appear to be really taking a toll on his body. Particularly in the belly region. Beer bellies don't look good on anyone, not even you sir. Also, his place of employment got demolished by a truck. If that is not a sign, I don't know what is. I believe you can make something out of nothing, but I don't think that applies in his case.
Checkmate, jerk.
Not your Average Teen Mom
Good evening from my couch,
I have managed to remove my sickly self from my bed and onto my couch for my obsession with Teen Mom. It is the only thing that kept me from falling asleep in my towel after I got out of the shower. If I didn't have school tomorrow, I would have skipped this bit, but I feel as though my fellow classmates would probably like me more if I didn't smell like I ate eight cans of shark sh**. Yes friends, that was a quote from The Longest Yard.
Before I dive back into the Bryant story, I would like to send a shout out to my friend Sarah. As you may or may not know, Sarah was a teen mom. She got pregnant with the sweetest most precious little girl named Kinley Brooke during our senior year of high school.
By the way, I would like to take some of the credit for this name, as I talked her out of Stella and and Gracelyn one day when we got kicked out of our health academy class for getting on Mrs. Gnann's nerves. Love you Gnanny! Best teacher ever!
All my Baker County freshman, please consider this program. I would not have had the high school experience I did had it not been for the health academy and I would not be the person I am today had it not been for Mrs. Gnann.
Anyways, back to Sarah, I am so proud of you. As I sit here and watch Teen Mom, I do so in disbelief and anger. These teen moms had the same struggle as you and yet, you are a shining example of how it should be. You have so much respect and pride for yourself as a mother. You don't accept handouts. Heck, you won't even ask Ma P to watch Kinley for a few hours while we go to the movies! You do what you want to do in the rare hours that you do not have Kinley on your own time, and you always put her first.
While these moms on this show are bouncing their babies back and forth between men and blatantly disrespecting their parents, you are raising Kinley right and bringing her up to be a girl of high means. These girls make excuses and blame their babies for not being able to go to school or being able to work, but you do both. This isn't just a MTV thing, I see some of the teen moms from our hometown and I just think wow, this is how Sarah could be. But you aren't, because you are awesome!
Also, shout out to Ma P for helping, even though you totally don't have to! KB would not be the same without your influence and love! Kinley, one day you may see this blog, I want you to know that Caraboo loves you very much. I remember the day I found out about you and it was a day that would forever change my friendship with your mother, a change for the better. You are so loved my little heart!
I felt this was necessary to tell before I dive into a very depressing ending to the Bryant story. You know, bring in a little sunshine before I turn on the storm. Also, I tend to talk about things that are currently going on, so as I was watching Teen Mom, my adoration for my friend came shining through.
I have managed to remove my sickly self from my bed and onto my couch for my obsession with Teen Mom. It is the only thing that kept me from falling asleep in my towel after I got out of the shower. If I didn't have school tomorrow, I would have skipped this bit, but I feel as though my fellow classmates would probably like me more if I didn't smell like I ate eight cans of shark sh**. Yes friends, that was a quote from The Longest Yard.
Before I dive back into the Bryant story, I would like to send a shout out to my friend Sarah. As you may or may not know, Sarah was a teen mom. She got pregnant with the sweetest most precious little girl named Kinley Brooke during our senior year of high school.
By the way, I would like to take some of the credit for this name, as I talked her out of Stella and and Gracelyn one day when we got kicked out of our health academy class for getting on Mrs. Gnann's nerves. Love you Gnanny! Best teacher ever!
All my Baker County freshman, please consider this program. I would not have had the high school experience I did had it not been for the health academy and I would not be the person I am today had it not been for Mrs. Gnann.
Anyways, back to Sarah, I am so proud of you. As I sit here and watch Teen Mom, I do so in disbelief and anger. These teen moms had the same struggle as you and yet, you are a shining example of how it should be. You have so much respect and pride for yourself as a mother. You don't accept handouts. Heck, you won't even ask Ma P to watch Kinley for a few hours while we go to the movies! You do what you want to do in the rare hours that you do not have Kinley on your own time, and you always put her first.
While these moms on this show are bouncing their babies back and forth between men and blatantly disrespecting their parents, you are raising Kinley right and bringing her up to be a girl of high means. These girls make excuses and blame their babies for not being able to go to school or being able to work, but you do both. This isn't just a MTV thing, I see some of the teen moms from our hometown and I just think wow, this is how Sarah could be. But you aren't, because you are awesome!
Also, shout out to Ma P for helping, even though you totally don't have to! KB would not be the same without your influence and love! Kinley, one day you may see this blog, I want you to know that Caraboo loves you very much. I remember the day I found out about you and it was a day that would forever change my friendship with your mother, a change for the better. You are so loved my little heart!
I felt this was necessary to tell before I dive into a very depressing ending to the Bryant story. You know, bring in a little sunshine before I turn on the storm. Also, I tend to talk about things that are currently going on, so as I was watching Teen Mom, my adoration for my friend came shining through.
A Few of my Favorite Things
Greetings from underneath my lambie blanket,
I am currently sick with some sort of cough thing so I am bundled up in bed bored. I thought I would take this time to advocate a few of my favorite things. Every week, I'd like to do a post following this title. Why should you care about what I love/believe in/ like to do? Well, I really don't know. However I think they are pretty snazzy and awesome, perhaps you will too.
1) Passion for Craftin'- So I have this friend from high school named Jessee Hires, now Yarborough. Recently, she has started making children's clothes. THEY ARE SO STINKING CUTE! I don't even have children but I want her to make my imaginary children a whole wardrobe! She has it all, from tutus and legwarmers to onesies and Halloween costumes. This is quality stuff folks. Her clothing has a quaint boutique feel to it and her hard work and creative mind are clearly visible in all of her creations. She also makes clothing for adults including mommy and me coordinating outfits. I am so confident and in love with her line that I am having her make a maxi dress for me this week! If you have children, please do not subject them to the boring same old same old outfits. Remember, they will get you back one day in the teenager years. Check out Jessee's Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/PassionForCraftin?ref=ts&fref=ts for all your little tyke's dressing needs.
2) Photography- I love pictures. I absolutely hate taking them of myself but I love looking at peoples engagement pictures, baby pictures, pet pictures, etc. My friend Sarah Mobley has recently broke into this art. Listen up folks, her pictures are amazing. She has mad photography and editing skills. Although she is turning people down right now to focus on school (good job girl!) I am hoping that if I help her, she will accept some sessions over the summer. I have zero summer plans and need something to do and I am crossing my fingers that this will be a project to keep me busy.
3) Beautiful Creatures- If you haven't guessed yet, I am an avid reader. I absolutely love reading and immersing myself into a good book. Recently, I was given the book Beautiful Creatures to read by my dad's ex wife Jamie. It is such an awesome book. My Baker County people will really be able to relate because the story is set in a small town in South Carolina with the same types of drama. And of course, it is a love story. I am a sucker for those. It has a Twilight feel to it so if you enjoyed that series (let's face it, everyone did), you will like these as well. Maybe I should have just entitled this one reading... hmm? Also, the movie is coming out mere days before my birthday so for those of you who are not readers, rejoice, there is a movie! Someone should take me to see it!
4) Harry Potter- Hello, my name is Cara Overstreet and I am addicted to Harry Potter. So much so that my upcoming 21st birthday party/waltz will have a Harry Potter theme. Admittedly, I have pinned Harry Potter baby nurseries and wedding ideas. Don't judge me, just open the book and let your obsession begin. These books take you to a place your mind could not piece together in your wildest dreams. It will make you laugh, cry, pull your hair out, bite your nails, and find yourself wishing you were at Hogwarts instead of your actual college. Also, you will want an owl. The purchase of one in the state of Florida is illegal. However, I could accept a little jail time if I had a Hedwig. Anyhow, please read these books or watch the movies, preferably both!
5) Yoga- I was never really into yoga until this past year. It may sound like a sissy thing to do or something that only the crazy tree hugger people do, but it is quite amazing. I took my first class at the FSU Leach Center (our huge gym) and was kind of disbelieving as I took my place on the mat. By the end of the class, I felt like a new person. My energy level and mental calmness were totally in sync. This all sounds sort of crazy, but you should all give it a shot! Try at least one class and see what you think.
While writing this post, I have decided that each week I will post five things I really like/care about/feel everyone should give a shot. Whether it be a product, book, movie, whatever. I hope you all enjoy them as much as I do if you actually get around to trying them.
I am currently sick with some sort of cough thing so I am bundled up in bed bored. I thought I would take this time to advocate a few of my favorite things. Every week, I'd like to do a post following this title. Why should you care about what I love/believe in/ like to do? Well, I really don't know. However I think they are pretty snazzy and awesome, perhaps you will too.
1) Passion for Craftin'- So I have this friend from high school named Jessee Hires, now Yarborough. Recently, she has started making children's clothes. THEY ARE SO STINKING CUTE! I don't even have children but I want her to make my imaginary children a whole wardrobe! She has it all, from tutus and legwarmers to onesies and Halloween costumes. This is quality stuff folks. Her clothing has a quaint boutique feel to it and her hard work and creative mind are clearly visible in all of her creations. She also makes clothing for adults including mommy and me coordinating outfits. I am so confident and in love with her line that I am having her make a maxi dress for me this week! If you have children, please do not subject them to the boring same old same old outfits. Remember, they will get you back one day in the teenager years. Check out Jessee's Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/PassionForCraftin?ref=ts&fref=ts for all your little tyke's dressing needs.
2) Photography- I love pictures. I absolutely hate taking them of myself but I love looking at peoples engagement pictures, baby pictures, pet pictures, etc. My friend Sarah Mobley has recently broke into this art. Listen up folks, her pictures are amazing. She has mad photography and editing skills. Although she is turning people down right now to focus on school (good job girl!) I am hoping that if I help her, she will accept some sessions over the summer. I have zero summer plans and need something to do and I am crossing my fingers that this will be a project to keep me busy.
3) Beautiful Creatures- If you haven't guessed yet, I am an avid reader. I absolutely love reading and immersing myself into a good book. Recently, I was given the book Beautiful Creatures to read by my dad's ex wife Jamie. It is such an awesome book. My Baker County people will really be able to relate because the story is set in a small town in South Carolina with the same types of drama. And of course, it is a love story. I am a sucker for those. It has a Twilight feel to it so if you enjoyed that series (let's face it, everyone did), you will like these as well. Maybe I should have just entitled this one reading... hmm? Also, the movie is coming out mere days before my birthday so for those of you who are not readers, rejoice, there is a movie! Someone should take me to see it!
4) Harry Potter- Hello, my name is Cara Overstreet and I am addicted to Harry Potter. So much so that my upcoming 21st birthday party/waltz will have a Harry Potter theme. Admittedly, I have pinned Harry Potter baby nurseries and wedding ideas. Don't judge me, just open the book and let your obsession begin. These books take you to a place your mind could not piece together in your wildest dreams. It will make you laugh, cry, pull your hair out, bite your nails, and find yourself wishing you were at Hogwarts instead of your actual college. Also, you will want an owl. The purchase of one in the state of Florida is illegal. However, I could accept a little jail time if I had a Hedwig. Anyhow, please read these books or watch the movies, preferably both!
5) Yoga- I was never really into yoga until this past year. It may sound like a sissy thing to do or something that only the crazy tree hugger people do, but it is quite amazing. I took my first class at the FSU Leach Center (our huge gym) and was kind of disbelieving as I took my place on the mat. By the end of the class, I felt like a new person. My energy level and mental calmness were totally in sync. This all sounds sort of crazy, but you should all give it a shot! Try at least one class and see what you think.
While writing this post, I have decided that each week I will post five things I really like/care about/feel everyone should give a shot. Whether it be a product, book, movie, whatever. I hope you all enjoy them as much as I do if you actually get around to trying them.
A Southern Gentleman's Response to Sweet Tea
Howdy do from my bedroom,
This morning I woke up and was pleasantly surprised to see my 8th grade history teacher had messaged me on Facebook. I would like to share what she wrote me.
"Just spent the last half hour reading your blog posts. I enjoyed them! I think you have found your thing! My favorite was the one about the rude family you waited on. Might I suggest a second installment? I'm dying to find out what happens."
I edited out something because I am not sure if you are still a teacher (which I hope you are because I learned a lot from you) but I want you to know that I really took this message to heart. Thank you Mrs. Hodges! So, per your request, I have decided to write a bit more about my Cracker Barrel life. It is quite entertaining, so here we go.
I would like to start with this, after I read this message this morning, I really started craving Cracker Barrel so I decided to go get some breakfast. Breakfast is perfectly reasonable at 3 in the afternoon, or anytime of the day for that matter. Breakfast food is the best food. Period.
Admittedly, I had an ulterior motive. I kind of wanted my job back, and while there, I planned to talk to my former boss about this. when I arrived, I walked up to the hostess stand behind this family of four what looked to be like brothers and sisters or maybe two husbands and their wives. There was only one hostess, and she was currently seating someone so I was going to have to wait for a few minutes. Fine with me, I was in no hurry. A moment later, I see this woman approaching out of the corner of my eye. She was middle aged with a cropped hairstyle and had a shiny brown jacket on. She moved ahead of myself and the couples in front of me. For a second, I gave her the benefit of a doubt. Maybe her guest was already seated in the restaurant and she was peeking in to see if she could see him. Perhaps she just wanted to know if there was a wait before she waited in line. But this is Cracker Barrel, so what I really knew was going on was actually really going on. This crazy old lady was skipping!
The sweet little hostess returned and of course the old bat is the first one she sees since she found fit to place herself in the front of the line. She asked how many and the lady said she had two and proceeded to follow the hostess into the dining room. ARE YOU SERIOUS!? HOW FREAKING RUDE CAN YOU GET! What is even worse is that when she walked up to the front of the line, she looked at each and everyone of us, myself and the four people in front of me, and acknowledged our presence and position in line! We all just stood there stunned and made jokes about it because at that point, what could we do other than laugh at the audacity this lady had. Needless to say, it was a clear sign from God that I didn't need that kind of stress back in my life again. I will not be going back to work there. Ever.
Let me take you back to the rude family from a previous post. If you haven't read it, this family was so bad they made several servers leave the building in tears. In fact, our store was trying to make it possible for them to not be able to eat there anymore. They always had something to say to our manager too, and nothing that made us look good. They were doing what I call fishing. Fishing- complaining enough until you get a free meal. This family did this frequently. What's even worse, they almost always got their way.
I had other encounters with the family that were almost always the same. Whether the BBQ was on the plate or not, they always had something to complain about. One day, they came in to eat dinner and I saw the hostess leading them to my section. I had had enough. My boss was standing by the computer where the servers put in orders and I walked up to him and said, "I am sorry sir but I am not waiting on them. I can't. I will physically lose my mind." He looked at me, then out at the dining room at them sitting down in my section, shook his head and sent someone else out there to take care of them. I feel bad for subjecting others to that kind of treatment, but there was no way I was going to be able to handle them. I really didn't want to get fired for having a meltdown in the dining room, so I figured this was a better alternative.
In an almost anticlimactic ending, I did not see them after that day. I have no idea if they were actually banned from the restaurant or not. For the sake of the servers still working up there, I hope they did. Dear sweet little girl, I hope when you get older you tell your parents that they need to calm down or you aren't letting them go out in public anymore.
At this point I would like to tell a story where I went wrong at my job. When I say wrong, I mean deathstar level awful. One day I had this table of older white haired gentlemen. They were sweet, charming, and southern. Most of them had on Columbia fishing shirts and Sperry type shoes. The attention to detail I have is ridiculous sometimes. I wish I could apply this kind of memory usage to school, but for some reason memorizing equations and remembering what someone ordered last Sunday are not the same.
Just like most southern gents, these men loved their sweet tea. They were sucking them down left and right. It's like they were storing it all somewhere in their bodies like camels do with their humps. One of the men asked me for a refill, so I dutifully retrieved the sweet tea pitcher from the kitchen. When I brought it back out I took the man's glass and filled it up. I was standing behind him and not beside him. Wrong move. As I went to hand him his glass back, I lost my balance with the tray and sent the whole pitcher of tea flying. My unintended target for the sweet tea was this man's entire backside. He was completely soaked in the sticky, sugary beverage. His shoulders tensed up, I imagine from the cold ice rolling down his spine. He turned, looked at me, and I waited for the blow. I thought for certain he was going to start screaming, cussing and pitching a fit. I probably would have.
To my surprise, he laughed. I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn't imagining this. He was laughing! Like a deep-hearted throaty, slightly mischievous laugh! He looked at me, and said, "Now darlin', I thought we agreed you were going to aim for this fella," as he slapped his friend on the back. They all broke into a fit of roaring laughter. I was in total shock. He wasn't going to yell or ask for me to be hung from the rafters after all!
This is a fine example of a good man. He had every reason to be angry with me, but instead he just let it go and laughed. It is a perfect example of "don't let life get you down." I wish I could remember his name. I feel I should add, they tipped me ten bucks and stacked their plates so I could grab them easily. It just goes to show you, the population is not made up solely of assholes. There are still some gems out there.
This morning I woke up and was pleasantly surprised to see my 8th grade history teacher had messaged me on Facebook. I would like to share what she wrote me.
"Just spent the last half hour reading your blog posts. I enjoyed them! I think you have found your thing! My favorite was the one about the rude family you waited on. Might I suggest a second installment? I'm dying to find out what happens."
I edited out something because I am not sure if you are still a teacher (which I hope you are because I learned a lot from you) but I want you to know that I really took this message to heart. Thank you Mrs. Hodges! So, per your request, I have decided to write a bit more about my Cracker Barrel life. It is quite entertaining, so here we go.
I would like to start with this, after I read this message this morning, I really started craving Cracker Barrel so I decided to go get some breakfast. Breakfast is perfectly reasonable at 3 in the afternoon, or anytime of the day for that matter. Breakfast food is the best food. Period.
Admittedly, I had an ulterior motive. I kind of wanted my job back, and while there, I planned to talk to my former boss about this. when I arrived, I walked up to the hostess stand behind this family of four what looked to be like brothers and sisters or maybe two husbands and their wives. There was only one hostess, and she was currently seating someone so I was going to have to wait for a few minutes. Fine with me, I was in no hurry. A moment later, I see this woman approaching out of the corner of my eye. She was middle aged with a cropped hairstyle and had a shiny brown jacket on. She moved ahead of myself and the couples in front of me. For a second, I gave her the benefit of a doubt. Maybe her guest was already seated in the restaurant and she was peeking in to see if she could see him. Perhaps she just wanted to know if there was a wait before she waited in line. But this is Cracker Barrel, so what I really knew was going on was actually really going on. This crazy old lady was skipping!
The sweet little hostess returned and of course the old bat is the first one she sees since she found fit to place herself in the front of the line. She asked how many and the lady said she had two and proceeded to follow the hostess into the dining room. ARE YOU SERIOUS!? HOW FREAKING RUDE CAN YOU GET! What is even worse is that when she walked up to the front of the line, she looked at each and everyone of us, myself and the four people in front of me, and acknowledged our presence and position in line! We all just stood there stunned and made jokes about it because at that point, what could we do other than laugh at the audacity this lady had. Needless to say, it was a clear sign from God that I didn't need that kind of stress back in my life again. I will not be going back to work there. Ever.
Let me take you back to the rude family from a previous post. If you haven't read it, this family was so bad they made several servers leave the building in tears. In fact, our store was trying to make it possible for them to not be able to eat there anymore. They always had something to say to our manager too, and nothing that made us look good. They were doing what I call fishing. Fishing- complaining enough until you get a free meal. This family did this frequently. What's even worse, they almost always got their way.
I had other encounters with the family that were almost always the same. Whether the BBQ was on the plate or not, they always had something to complain about. One day, they came in to eat dinner and I saw the hostess leading them to my section. I had had enough. My boss was standing by the computer where the servers put in orders and I walked up to him and said, "I am sorry sir but I am not waiting on them. I can't. I will physically lose my mind." He looked at me, then out at the dining room at them sitting down in my section, shook his head and sent someone else out there to take care of them. I feel bad for subjecting others to that kind of treatment, but there was no way I was going to be able to handle them. I really didn't want to get fired for having a meltdown in the dining room, so I figured this was a better alternative.
In an almost anticlimactic ending, I did not see them after that day. I have no idea if they were actually banned from the restaurant or not. For the sake of the servers still working up there, I hope they did. Dear sweet little girl, I hope when you get older you tell your parents that they need to calm down or you aren't letting them go out in public anymore.
At this point I would like to tell a story where I went wrong at my job. When I say wrong, I mean deathstar level awful. One day I had this table of older white haired gentlemen. They were sweet, charming, and southern. Most of them had on Columbia fishing shirts and Sperry type shoes. The attention to detail I have is ridiculous sometimes. I wish I could apply this kind of memory usage to school, but for some reason memorizing equations and remembering what someone ordered last Sunday are not the same.
Just like most southern gents, these men loved their sweet tea. They were sucking them down left and right. It's like they were storing it all somewhere in their bodies like camels do with their humps. One of the men asked me for a refill, so I dutifully retrieved the sweet tea pitcher from the kitchen. When I brought it back out I took the man's glass and filled it up. I was standing behind him and not beside him. Wrong move. As I went to hand him his glass back, I lost my balance with the tray and sent the whole pitcher of tea flying. My unintended target for the sweet tea was this man's entire backside. He was completely soaked in the sticky, sugary beverage. His shoulders tensed up, I imagine from the cold ice rolling down his spine. He turned, looked at me, and I waited for the blow. I thought for certain he was going to start screaming, cussing and pitching a fit. I probably would have.
To my surprise, he laughed. I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn't imagining this. He was laughing! Like a deep-hearted throaty, slightly mischievous laugh! He looked at me, and said, "Now darlin', I thought we agreed you were going to aim for this fella," as he slapped his friend on the back. They all broke into a fit of roaring laughter. I was in total shock. He wasn't going to yell or ask for me to be hung from the rafters after all!
This is a fine example of a good man. He had every reason to be angry with me, but instead he just let it go and laughed. It is a perfect example of "don't let life get you down." I wish I could remember his name. I feel I should add, they tipped me ten bucks and stacked their plates so I could grab them easily. It just goes to show you, the population is not made up solely of assholes. There are still some gems out there.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
The Ugly Truth
Hello from my couch,
After an awesome night of darts and conversation with my dear friends Cassie and Cassie's boyfriend Matt aka le derp and le derp's boyfriend as I have come to call them, I have ended up in my living room watching The Ugly Truth. This has reminded me that I need to finish at least another part of the It's Time post.
I believe I left off with saying how much of a complete ass my ex boyfriend was/is/always will be. This will not be a "hate" blog, just simply stating the scientifically provable facts ;)
I hung up on Bryant and we didn't talk for a week. Not physically anyways. We texted each other a few times. You want to know what really makes me sick? I was the one who had to text him first. I even said I was sorry! I had nothing to be sorry for, but I said it. I thought I was important enough to him to at least get one phone call. I would have settled for smoke signals. I still loved him and I was hoping he cared enough for me to try. Apparently not so much.
I am the type of person who will apologize when I am wrong. Just last week Cassie called me a lightweight and for some reason I got offended and got mad at her. I had no right or reason to be mad over something like that. She didn't mean it as an insult, she was just being funny. I apologized to her for being mad and getting snappy. We have the type of friendship where apologies aren't really necessary. We fight for five minutes, get over whatever the problem was, and go back to talking about salsa or TV shows. But this time, I felt really bad so I said the two hardest words to combine in the English language, "I'm sorry."
We continued to text throughout the week and made plans to see each other that weekend to talk everything over. The texts were really dry and lacked meaning. I told him I was making special arrangements to come home. I already knew what the outcome of the weekend would be. It was over, and had been over for a while. I just really didn't want to deal with it. I wasn't really upset that we would be breaking up. I was disturbed because I knew what he was going to say. Perhaps a phone call would have sufficed had he picked up the phone the few times I admittedly tried to call.
Confession time, I wasn't a perfect angel through all of this. That Friday night, Bryant was working until at least 11 so I went to see an old friend of mine, Wesley. Just a friend. As bad as this sounds, I needed some sort of attention. I was craving it. I knew Bryant would be pissed if he found out and I didn't want to give him any reason to be mad at me so I didn't say anything. I received a text saying work was running late for him and that he would call me when he got off. He did call. I told him I was still in Jacksonville but that I could be home in 30 minutes. I felt bad, at the time it seemed like he really wanted to talk, like he missed me. He even sounded kind of hurt that I wasn't home. So, naturally, my soft hearted self started to change its mind. Maybe this could work. Bryant said he was tired and had to get up early in the morning for flag football and asked if we could do this when he got back that afternoon. I said it would be okay to wait until then.
Well, Saturday morning came and I waited for him. I got dressed up and did my hair and makeup, I was still trying to impress him. I put on this beautiful Lauren Conrad grey blazer and some Lauren Conrad coral colored skinny jeans. Gosh I love her clothes! They make me feel skinny and awesome! Hell, I even shaved my legs for this occasion! Listen up gents, if a girl shaves her legs for you, you should really take advantage of that. It means that we really love/like/care/want to do naughty things to you. Shaving legs is a long, painstaking process. Next time your girlfriend, fiance, wife or hoe on the side shaves her legs, thank her. *Hint Hint- use baby oil instead of shaving cream. It works so much better!*
I waited.... and waited... and waited.... He told me he was only playing one game that morning, maybe two tops. I couldn't imagine what was taking him so long. And then I got a text. "I am not going to be able to make it. Flag football is running over. Sorry." I literally wanted to flip a lid or kick a kitten! I was so over his fag football addiction. Yes, I did mean to say fag, that was not a typo. I am all for a healthy hobby but goodnight nurse Pam, eight games in one day is a bit over the top. He frequently played more than five games a day and it drove me nuts. I went one Saturday to be supportive of his hobby, I fell asleep in his friend's chair. I rigged it so it would recline back onto another chair. Pretty sure I swallowed a few bugs. Did a stupid game really mean more to him than I did? The girl who believed in him, believed he could do anything, even though he isn't going anywhere? It appeared so.
So what did I do? I texted him with an "Ok." OOOHHHH lawd let me tell you, I put every ounce of hatred I had in me for him at that time in that punctuation mark. Men, if your significant other rarely uses punctuation via text and she suddenly does, beware, you have done something awfully wrong. Apologize immediately.
After I sent him that text, I kicked off my flats, put my phone on silent, and fell into a glorious sleep. I will continue this tomorrow night. Sorry for all the pauses. It's just that this is a long story and I don't want these posts to be too long. People tend to get bored with long things, like those stupid FCAT stories about plants growing patterns. Don't want this to be on the same level as that.
After an awesome night of darts and conversation with my dear friends Cassie and Cassie's boyfriend Matt aka le derp and le derp's boyfriend as I have come to call them, I have ended up in my living room watching The Ugly Truth. This has reminded me that I need to finish at least another part of the It's Time post.
I believe I left off with saying how much of a complete ass my ex boyfriend was/is/always will be. This will not be a "hate" blog, just simply stating the scientifically provable facts ;)
I hung up on Bryant and we didn't talk for a week. Not physically anyways. We texted each other a few times. You want to know what really makes me sick? I was the one who had to text him first. I even said I was sorry! I had nothing to be sorry for, but I said it. I thought I was important enough to him to at least get one phone call. I would have settled for smoke signals. I still loved him and I was hoping he cared enough for me to try. Apparently not so much.
I am the type of person who will apologize when I am wrong. Just last week Cassie called me a lightweight and for some reason I got offended and got mad at her. I had no right or reason to be mad over something like that. She didn't mean it as an insult, she was just being funny. I apologized to her for being mad and getting snappy. We have the type of friendship where apologies aren't really necessary. We fight for five minutes, get over whatever the problem was, and go back to talking about salsa or TV shows. But this time, I felt really bad so I said the two hardest words to combine in the English language, "I'm sorry."
We continued to text throughout the week and made plans to see each other that weekend to talk everything over. The texts were really dry and lacked meaning. I told him I was making special arrangements to come home. I already knew what the outcome of the weekend would be. It was over, and had been over for a while. I just really didn't want to deal with it. I wasn't really upset that we would be breaking up. I was disturbed because I knew what he was going to say. Perhaps a phone call would have sufficed had he picked up the phone the few times I admittedly tried to call.
Confession time, I wasn't a perfect angel through all of this. That Friday night, Bryant was working until at least 11 so I went to see an old friend of mine, Wesley. Just a friend. As bad as this sounds, I needed some sort of attention. I was craving it. I knew Bryant would be pissed if he found out and I didn't want to give him any reason to be mad at me so I didn't say anything. I received a text saying work was running late for him and that he would call me when he got off. He did call. I told him I was still in Jacksonville but that I could be home in 30 minutes. I felt bad, at the time it seemed like he really wanted to talk, like he missed me. He even sounded kind of hurt that I wasn't home. So, naturally, my soft hearted self started to change its mind. Maybe this could work. Bryant said he was tired and had to get up early in the morning for flag football and asked if we could do this when he got back that afternoon. I said it would be okay to wait until then.
Well, Saturday morning came and I waited for him. I got dressed up and did my hair and makeup, I was still trying to impress him. I put on this beautiful Lauren Conrad grey blazer and some Lauren Conrad coral colored skinny jeans. Gosh I love her clothes! They make me feel skinny and awesome! Hell, I even shaved my legs for this occasion! Listen up gents, if a girl shaves her legs for you, you should really take advantage of that. It means that we really love/like/care/want to do naughty things to you. Shaving legs is a long, painstaking process. Next time your girlfriend, fiance, wife or hoe on the side shaves her legs, thank her. *Hint Hint- use baby oil instead of shaving cream. It works so much better!*
I waited.... and waited... and waited.... He told me he was only playing one game that morning, maybe two tops. I couldn't imagine what was taking him so long. And then I got a text. "I am not going to be able to make it. Flag football is running over. Sorry." I literally wanted to flip a lid or kick a kitten! I was so over his fag football addiction. Yes, I did mean to say fag, that was not a typo. I am all for a healthy hobby but goodnight nurse Pam, eight games in one day is a bit over the top. He frequently played more than five games a day and it drove me nuts. I went one Saturday to be supportive of his hobby, I fell asleep in his friend's chair. I rigged it so it would recline back onto another chair. Pretty sure I swallowed a few bugs. Did a stupid game really mean more to him than I did? The girl who believed in him, believed he could do anything, even though he isn't going anywhere? It appeared so.
So what did I do? I texted him with an "Ok." OOOHHHH lawd let me tell you, I put every ounce of hatred I had in me for him at that time in that punctuation mark. Men, if your significant other rarely uses punctuation via text and she suddenly does, beware, you have done something awfully wrong. Apologize immediately.
After I sent him that text, I kicked off my flats, put my phone on silent, and fell into a glorious sleep. I will continue this tomorrow night. Sorry for all the pauses. It's just that this is a long story and I don't want these posts to be too long. People tend to get bored with long things, like those stupid FCAT stories about plants growing patterns. Don't want this to be on the same level as that.
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