Through all of the noise and chaos of learning, growing, loving, and losing as a 25 year old, straight girl...sometimes all a girl really needs, is a drunk boy with a cigarette.
Home Is Where the Heart Is
I’m sitting here on 45th St. at my favorite coffee shop, looking out at the street I’ve driven down millions of times and writing what seems like my 80th cover letter in two weeks. As I continue to search for jobs and fantasize about working downtown, wearing cute pencil skirts and meeting friends for happy hour I can’t help but think about the fact that this might be one of the last times I sit here. At my favorite high-top table, smiling at the cute boys frothing milk and hoping the rain stops before my walk home.
Home. Home is a rather weighty word. Home isn’t just a place you sleep every night. Home is the bar where your favorite nights you hardly remember were spent and it’s the bitch sessions you had with your best friend while walking around the lake.
For two years I’d fly to Minneapolis and tell people “I’m going home for a week.” And then I’d tell my Seattle friends a week later that, “I’ll be home around dinner time.” Home really is where your heart is and my heart has been in two places for two years which is why this move is so bittersweet. I’m leaving one home and going to another.
It makes me smile to think that pretty soon Seattle will be like Scotland to me. The comfort and love of this place, will simply transcend into the people. My friends will become my home. And Seattle a symbol and magical place that brought us all together.
Thought of the Day
People who get married and put it all over Facebook should at least have the decency to post pictures. I’ve been reading obnoxious posts about how much you love your fiance for a year, looking at engagement pictures, which I don’t really understand the purpose of, and I then have to have endure a status update countdown for weeks in advance. So seriously people who put their lives on Facebook (not that I don’t) but if you want people to know how happy and now married you are then at least let me see the pictures of the big day so I can judge whether I like your dress or not.
Homemade raspberry limeade! Made by my lovely friend Sarah of sarahstuder.com!
Every Sunday I venture over to her apartment to play mario, watch HBO and eat delicious food made by Sarah and her roommate Heather. Excited to see whats on the menu tonight!
Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.
—Christopher Robin to Pooh
Until Next Time
This afternoon I dropped my best friend off at the airport. For the past two years she has been by my side…literally, I’m pretty sure our hips started to fuse together sometimes. But she’s not just going on vacation like it usually is when I bring her there. This time it was a true goodbye. It was one of those that stops you from breathing, makes you never want to let go and makes you reflect on your entire life.
I’ve had to say goodbye to many best friends in my life, but this time was different. Until my life in Seattle, all of my closest friends have been based out of Minnesota. Even if we never live in the same city again- most of them will be there for at least the major holidays and chances are a lot of them there for good.
But the goodbye today was something new. It was the first of many goodbyes to best friends I will have to make in the next few months, and this time- we’ll never call the same city home. It would be very Carrie Bradshaw of me to say that it was this city that brought us together…but it wasn’t.
It wasn’t Seattle’s eclectic neighborhoods or crappy drivers or mountains peaking out in every direction that changed us or taught us or dance with us. It was each other that did that. It wasn’t the city having sleepovers with me when my room was flooded for two weeks. It wasn’t the city holding my hand when crying about a boy. And it definitely wasn’t the city that brought me a milkshake and Jimmy John’s on my birthday.
For the next 3 months I don’t think I’ll get used to her being gone. Every part of my life here includes her in it. Saying goodbye to her was one of the most heartbreaking moments of my life. And all I can do to stop from bursting with tears, is to think about the next time we’ll be together.
Laser-Tag…On My Face
Today I did something I never really thought I would do. I walked into a spa that advertises for botox, body sculpting and something to do with weight loss that seems dangerous and illegal. But don’t worry I wasn’t injecting my face with bacteria, instead I was zapping lasers into my skin in order to finally rid my face of something that’s been causing me much anxiety for many years.
Though it’s not talked about, many women have hair on their face. Thanks to our wonderfully sexist society not only do most women feel self-conscious about it but it’s not even talked about.
Laser hair removal is extremely expensive which is ridiculous because it honestly takes the same amount of time to laser my chin as it does to wax my eyebrows. But with a Groupon it’s a must! The amount I paid for 6 sessions is equal to what 1 session would be without a Groupon.
The most surprising part of this whole experience was how not painful it was. Through all the research and meeting with a doctor I was expecting it to feel like a rubber band slapping my skin repeatedly. It was more like tweezing really which is weird. I was also expecting a lot of redness for a few days to follow. It’s now been 1 hour since my treatment and there isn’t a spot of red in sight.
So what happens now you ask? Well I have to let the hair fall out naturally which means I can’t nair anymore. But I can shave and trim until my next appointment which is in 4 weeks.
In 4-6 months I will be hair free on my chin for probably the rest of my life and I couldn’t be more happy about it.
Mumford & Sons, Rolling Rock and The Hunger Games…perfect summer night in Seattle.
Drunk Boys Gets a Make-Over
After many weeks of thinking it was time to re-vamp this bad boy I finally decided to do it. I was home last week in Minneapolis and two of my dearest Scotland friends informed me that there were thinking I should expand my thoughts and opinions beyond the realm of boys and dating.
This was all I really needed. Just that extra push to expand my life in the blogging world.
From here on out I will be discussing anything and everything I have opinions.
Some topics you have to look forward to in the upcoming weeks are how crappy moving is, The Hunger Games, what I like about Seattle summers and how terribly much I will miss my best friend when she moves back to Chicago.
Best Way to Meet a Boy
My good friend, let’s call her Penelope for now, is currently dog-sitting for the month of July. She’s determined to meet the love of her life at the dog park. The advice I just gave her was so great, that I figured I should share it with the world:
Go to the dog park every day at the same time. I recommend 6 o’clock. Because unless you’re in Seattle where a lot of hotties are independent contractor techies, this way you at least know they have a job.
Each day eat or drink the exact same thing. Once you start noticing a cute boy is there at the same time every day you start moving closer. Throw your dogs ball closer to his dog. Make the dogs be friends. As soon as the dogs sniff so will he:
“I couldn’t help but noticing you LOVE string cheese. I’m Ryan by the way.”
And the rest they say…is history.
I’m Bringing Stallion Back
There are many ways to describe a person you find attractive. I personally like to call someone a “babe” or “stud.” Saying, “what a babe!” not only makes me feel like DJ Tanner but I feel like if someone’s a babe it means they also have a great personality. For example, Ryan Gosling equals total babe.
I recently expressed to two of my roommates that I hate, hate, hate to call a man “sexy.” It makes me semi-uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is about the word but I really don’t like it. I obviously find men to be sexy but I just do not like the word.
So last night while watching some trashy TV with my roommates, I described a man as a “stallion.” They found it ridiculous that I can use the term stallion but not sexy.
So what is it about stallion that I find more acceptable. I’ve been thinking about it all day and I’ve realized it really distinguishes the level of attractiveness I find a man to be. For example George Clooney. He’s definitely sexy, but I wouldn’t describe him as a stallion. I don’t really have the desire to rip off his clothes. It also doesn’t make me as uncomfortable. Maybe because it’s kind of humorous to say out loud. Or maybe because I feel more removed from the word. Who would I describe as a stallion?
- Justin Timberlake
- Javier Bardem
- Blair Underwood
- Matt Damon
- Hugh Jackman
The word stallion almost creates a whole other level of…well….sexiness.
Lighting those swan matches to see
just how long they’ll take to burn out,
like they could burn forever.
—Grand Archives “Swan Matches”
Fishing Line
It’s the 4 year anniversary of the night I went to Scotland. I’t so scary how fast it’s gone. Much has changed since my time abroad. I graduated college, moved across the country and spent a year working in an elementary school. But sometimes it feels like yesterday. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about Scotland. And the reason for that is because of the relationships I made with six amazing women.
They are passionate, kind, patient, intelligent and hilarious. The amount of love we have for one another could be described as obsessive to an outside eye, but we see it as life source. I truly don’t know what I’d do without them.
What’s most amazing is that we’re all in such different places right now. One of us is working in Alaska as a whale watching tour guide for crying out loud. But no matter the distance that comes between us, and thank goodness for Facebook messaging, we are always connected. As the most sentimental one of us calls it, “it’s like a fishing line connecting all of our hearts.”
There’s really no point to this post besides me wanting to give tribute to January 31, 2007. It has nothing to do with dating or what my latest disgust with the male species. However, it does have everything to do with love. These girls, unlike the next boy that comes into my life, will, without a doubt, love me forever. And that is something worth hanging onto.
Don’t threaten me with love, Baby. Let’s just go walking in the rain.
—Billie Holiday
The Tao of Snooki
I have a confession. It’s rather terrifying, embarrassing, unhealthy and a little depressing. But there’s no denying the fact that I love Snooki. She’s awesome in every way possible. From her love for fun to her meatball body to her strict, moral girl-code. She is amazing.
Every Thursday night at 10 I find myself in my living with a glass of 3 Buck Chuck Shiraz, snuggled up with my roommates ready to watch “Jersey Shore.” And every Thursday night, Snooki manages to blow my mind. I actually find myself relating to a 4 foot girl with who’s “type” are juice-head gorillas on steroids.
So I’ve decided that there’s no better way to profess my love and connection with Snooki then through her own words.
Quote #1:
Sammi: I just feel like I don’t know.
Snooki: I know how you feel.
One, this is amazing.
Two, I can totally relate.
Sometimes we just don’t know. We don’t know why they stopped calling. We don’t know why they’re so immature. We don’t know why it’s so hard to make a little time for us. We don’t know why they break our hearts.
This quote also shows my favorite side of Snooki. She’s a girlfriend type of girl through and through. She loves her friends more than anything. She truly cherishes her relationships with her girlfriends more than anything else and that’s phenomenal. Sammi, obviously the worst cast member, is saying something totally stupid. “I just feel like I don’t know.” Whether Snooki is actually relating here or not she’s 100% supporting what her friend is feeling. She’s not judging Sammi for the way she feels, but understanding (or at least pretending).
Quote #2:
“It just keeps eating at you and eating at you and then when you don’t find a guy, you just get more miserable and more depressed.”
And, ain’t it the truth. Sometimes no matter how happy you are with your job, your roommates and your privileged, lovely life, you just want to find a guy. In fact, when everything seems to be fitting into place that’s when you realize how lonely you are and then, like she says, it’s just all down-hill from there.
Quote #3:
“Mike can be a nice guy. Like, he shows his good side then he shows his jerk off side. But that’s what I like … a good guy and a jerk off, it’s all in the same.”
Here is where we see Snooki’s genius-ness come out. Heterosexual women in American culture are socialized to like the ass-holes. We want someone who’s charming, out-going and funny. The problem is is that those characteristics are all signs that he’s slightly an a-hole. Like she says, we want someone who’s not too much of an a-hole that you don’t want to be around him at all, but enough of an a-hole that you can’t stop wanting to be around him.
(side-note: The Situation I find out-going, sometimes funny and very rarely charming)
Quote #4:
“Guys are douchebags and I hate them all. They don’t know how to treat women, and I feel like this is why the lesbian rate is going up in this country.”
I need to start out by saying that I don’t think one chooses their sexual orientation.
Then I need to say that I totally understand where she’s coming from. I’m kind of going through one of those bitter “I hate men and will probably be alone forever but I’m kind of okay with it because they all suck” phases so I might not totally sane right now, but sometimes I just want to swear them all off and start dating someone who does not identify as a male.
Quote #5: Before I leave you with my final quote, that I believe speaks for itself, I will say that my love and ability to relate to Snooki can be broken down, plain and simple: she hates d-bags (though we differ on what a d-bag is), she would never put a boy before her best friends and her love for pickles is as strong as mine:
“I’m not pissed of that they would put pickles under my bed as a joke, but I’m pissed off that Mike and Pauly wasted two pickles.”
NIGHTNIGHT by DEDDY
