Tag Archive: love


There are just some songs that stick with you sometimes, you know? The ones that replay in your head over and over again. The ones that you can listen to endlessly and never get sick of.

Dude. I totally have one of those right now.

This love affair has lasted longer than I can even remember. I don’t know the first time I heard the song but I’m fairly certain that I was like oh em gee, more please! the first time I heard it.

I saw the video for it and decided I would still love the song despite the fact that the video elicits the following reaction: uhm, what the fuck?

Any guesses?

Whatever, I’ll tell you. Just a Dream by Nelly.

What I love about it is that new Nelly sounds like old Nelly, which I think is great.  If only Christina Aguilera would go back to the days of What a Girl Wants or the entire Stripped album. Ugh.

Anyway, the best part about Just a Dream is this cover I found by these youtubers I am slightly obsessed with. Kurt Schneider and Sam Tsui do covers and make videos of all kinds of stuff and every single one is good. Even though Sam reminds me of a Disney Prince of some sort. He smiles all the damn time! Love love love!!

I especially love when Christina sings. Her voice is so so so so good. Oh, and the Usher part about not being able to let it burn, obviously. And the part where you have to put your hands up if you’ve ever loved somebody. I do it even though I haven’t been in love. Not for real.

And that time I did tell someone I loved him, I totally lied. Because, hello, it’s rude to not say it when someone expects you to say it. And apparently I’m a people-pleaser?! Dick move, self. Whatever.

It’s just that love is pretty much just fucked. And, while it’s a precious concept and I do wish that two people really could be together forever and stuff, let’s get real, it just doesn’t really exist.

Except for in the case of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Love exists for them.

Ugh. I suppose I can save my bitter cynicism for another day.

Hope your President’s Day-weekend is/was excellent. I have tomorrow off from work for the holiday. Win. I plan on sleeping in. In my own bed.

Drew is home.

He’s finally home.

I can’t even begin to describe what it feels like. I’m beyond joyful.

I have missed him so much and it just feels so good to have him here again.

There was a lot of traffic at the airport, and we were running late (typical) and Drew’s plane landed early, and apparently it’s not difficult to get into this country as Drew flew through customs.

When we got to the “International Arrivals” drive-up curb thing-y, Drew was already there and waiting for us. Mom was freaking out and getting a little bit road rage-y. She was ready to tuck and roll to just walk to find him. When she opened the door before even putting the car in park, I knew it was the more responsible choice to have me tuck and roll to run down the road to find him.

I got out of the car, all pissed off because she had driven on a rumble-strip just moments before and woke me from a delicious nap I had been taking.

Then, though, I hadn’t even walked ten steps before I saw him.

Tall and lanky as ever, the same as when he left, he stood probably a hundred feet away. I waved. I could tell he was trying to figure out if it was me. And then we started walking towards each other. I wanted to run but I tried to keep my cool. There were so many cars and so many people around.

But then he picked up his pace. And so I did too. Then he started running. And I felt my cold, black heart swell and I started running towards him too. Then he dropped all of his shit on the ground and wrapped me in a big, big hug. He lifted me off the ground and even though my boobs hurt after he put me down ’cause he squeezed me so hard, I didn’t really want to let go. Ever.

He’s home.

 

While we were in Philadelphia this weekend, I was reminded of something I love.

Something I simply cannot get enough of.

Something I wish I could constantly have in my life.

Something that just doesn’t get old.

Rob, a friend from college who now is all fancy and lives in New York City, met up with Erica and I in Philadelphia. He is the reason I am going through withdrawal. On two counts. Rude.

Robby & I after graduation! Go Green!

First of all, I hate him for making me love him and then leaving to go live a fancy life so far away.

Second, I hate him for reminding me of my love of Play by Givenchy and Justin Timberlake. It’s like THE BEST SMELL EVER. For men.

Robby wears Play. And I smelled him last weekend and fell in love all over again. (With him. And with Play.)

I remember clear as day the first time I smelled it. I shit you not. It’s, like, locked in my memory. I was flipping through Cosmo like MONTHS ago.

(Side note: I would just like to say that yes, I do subscribe to Cosmo. But it should also be noted that Drew usually got to it before I did. And sometimes Sully. Yes, Drew, you can be embarrassed that I announced it on my blog. Because the viewership has increased since I started it in June. And your secrets just keep spilling out of me. LAHV YEW!! That totally just reminded me of Mean Girls . You know, the part where all the girls are in the gym doing trust falls? And Karen apologizes to Gretchen for laughing at her for the time she got diarrhea at Barnes & Noble, and that she was sorry for repeating the story in front of everyone right then. Omg. That movie is genius. I love you, Tina Fey.)

Anyway.

Gosh, my ADD really needs to chill out.

Okay. I was “reading” Cosmo and all of a sudden it was like BAM!! HELLO BEST SMELL EVER!!! So you can bet your bottom dollar that I ripped open that tiny little flap of paper to sniff the tester page of this fragrance.  And when I looked to see what it was that I had pressed against my face, I saw Justin Timberlake. DOUBLE WIN!

LOOK AT HIM. HOT. AS. HELL.

This stuff is like catnip to me.

I smell it and just… want to breathe more than normal.

I cannot describe to you what it smells like, nor can I explain to you the degree to which I love this smell. It’s just amazing. And if I smelled it in real life, I would probably be embarrassed by my response to it.

It’s that good.

And every time Rob would walk by after he put it on, I just followed behind him sniffing the air he left.

Cannot. Get. Enough.

So, pretty much, I’m obsessed again.

Thanks a lot, Rob. Oh, and you too, Justin Timberlake. You just had to go ahead and render me completely out of my mind at the smell of the sexiest man-smell ever.

Oh, I doubt I need to make this disclaimer but, um, I haven’t been compensated in any way to plug this product. It just smells really, really good. And when I was cleaning up my closet and saw all of my perfumes, I thought of the one smell I wished I could smell at any given moment.

I need a boyfriend. So he can wear this. And I can behave like a cat that was recently given catnip. Or something??

Cats are funny.

lolz

 

While we were in Philadelphia this weekend, I was reminded of something I love.

Something I simply cannot get enough of.

Something I wish I could constantly have in my life.

Something that just doesn’t get old.

Rob, a friend from college who now is all fancy and lives in New York City, met up with Erica and I in Philadelphia. He is the reason I am going through withdrawal. On two counts. Rude.

So Drew mentioned to me this past weekend that he was starting Grey’s Anatomy from the beginning.

We’ve done this before. We own all of the seasons on DVD and we have watched every single episode. More than once.

I know I’ve talked about this before, but I am telling you: I am Meredith Grey.

Drew disagreed with me for a moment today when we were talking and he cited one fact that would make it so Meredith Grey and I were not the same person. In the third or fourth episode of the season, the one where George and Izzie unpack Meredith’s mom’s surgery tapes. And Meredith had had a bad day and came home and was all kinds of pissed off. And George goes, “I ordered chinese food.” and Meredith shouts, “I HATE CHINESE FOOD!”

I would never do that.

I just wouldn’t.

But the thing is, at the very beginning of the show, Meredith isn’t that dark and twisty yet. Meredith is just normal, but with a side of cynicism. It’s Derek who ruins her. He’s the one who makes her go all dark and twisty. Okay, yeah, her avoidance behavior was always there. And she was kinda shut off, but he pushed her over the edge.

Derek is all bright and shiny and practically perfect every way (much like Mary Poppins, apparently). He’s all optimistic about love and thinks that people can and will be together forever. He has faith in love.  That’s just something I don’t understand. He thinks marriage is real. Or, rather, that it’s more than a “cute idea,” which is my reaction to that word. He totally loves her and she just doesn’t even know what to do with that. Well, until she becomes bright and shiny too. Whatever.

Don’t hate me ’cause I’m not bright and shiny.

I feel like it’s a positive change that I went from Cristina to Meredith, though. This change still baffles me. I just recall watching Grey’s Anatomy on DVD in the dorms with the girls and it’d be like OH EM GEE, YOU’RE SOOOO IZZIE  or “you’re totally meredith! tee hee hee!!” But then it would come to be my turn and errrbody would look at me and be like OKAY, CRISTINA! and I was always like uhm yeah, that’s awesome ’cause Cristina is a badass. Like, I didn’t realize what an emotionally stunted freak she was. Lolz. (This whole post is ridiculous. I know that.)

Anyway, I have gotten sucked back into Grey’s Anatomy. It’s Drew’s fault. Because now I’m just going to give specific reasons now as to why I’m all dark and twisty and tell myself that relating to a tv show on such a personal level like I already do is totally normal.

I already cite stuff that happens on Grey’s Anatomy as fact or real life.

Do you have a character you relate to on a crazy level, like I do?! What show/movie?  I could seriously make a looooong list of movies and characters I swear I’m same same same with. You know?! I can’t be alone in this…!

I wouldn’t say that I talk a lot of shit about my hometown.

I mean, there are definitely people who talk more shit about my hometown than I do. For example, my brother talks a whole lotta shit about our hometown. When he finished high school, he was done. He basically gave our hometown the middle finger and pulled a Chris Brander:

This town is full of losers and I’m pulling out to win!

Except he didn’t pull out on a bike and ride down the street. Nor was he 300 pounds. And, to my knowledge, he never sat alone in his room lip-synching to I Swear by All-4-One. (I know, it’s an excellent song!) Actually, he may have done that. I can’t be certain, though.

Anyway, my point is, our hometown is pretty okay. I mean, people can be catty and sometimes it’s really clique-y and it feels like everyone knows everyone else’s business, but that can happen anywhere.

There are times, though, when something happens and you stop for a moment and remember why your town is awesome and why the people who make up the community are just good people.

Something happened on Sunday that made me realize how glad I am to be part of my hometown and still feel a connection to it. Something horribly tragic. Something inconceivably sad.

On Sunday, four seniors from last year’s graduating class were in a car accident. Three of the four were killed and one remains in the hospital. They were just babies; they were fresh out of high school and just beginning their adventures into adulthood. The boy who lived (I swear that wasn’t an intentional Harry Potter reference!) is expected to make a full recovery, but the road will definitely be a long one.

The effect this car crash had on our community was intense. On facebook, I watched an outpouring of support fill my newsfeed, and I continue to see it.  The grief was so apparent, and all I saw was love. Love for the families, love for those lost, love for those in recovery, love for the friends who experienced loss, love for the community in general. Even people who didn’t personally know any of the kids were touched. It was truly amazing and I really just feel so thankful to have been raised in such a loving community. I’m so thankful to know people who are so caring and compassionate.

I really just want to say that it’s so important to tell those people close to you how much they mean to you. It’s important to make sure the people you care about know you love them. It’s important to think of others and reach out in times of need.

My town gets that.

And I love that.

When closing arguments began, I had no idea what I would decide. I was dying to know what my fellow jurors thought of everything we had heard. Throughout the four days we were in court, we couldn’t speak to each other about anything relating to the case. Every minute spent together in the jury room was filled with small talk. I couldn’t wait to actually be able to talk about the case, ask the questions that had been haunting my dreams, and finally wrap my head around all the facts.

There was one minor hiccup once all was said and done by the attorneys. There were thirteen of us. Only twelve would go back to the jury room and deliberate. I hoped to high heaven I wouldn’t be the one to be dismissed. How disappointing it would be to sit through the entire trial and then simply be released, to be thanked for one’s service and dismissed with no other words. I would have been pissed. But, as it stands, that didn’t happen to me. The juror in seat three was released.

The judge read us our instructions and then we filed back into our ever familiar jury room.  I took my regular seat and waited to see what would happen next.  First thing was first: we were going to order some lunch. And I was to be the one to record everyone’s order due to my neat handwriting. (I always knew I’d be good for something!) Ordering lunch was a feat in and of itself but we finally got it under control. We called Mike, our court officer, and gave him our order.

That was when deliberations began. During the time it took to figure out what everyone was eating for lunch, we had also decided our foreman. Rather than picking the woman who has sat on a jury every two years since 1985, we went with the man she nominated, who sat in seat number four. We decided to tackle the lesser charges first, and then discuss the big one. It didn’t take long at all to go around the table and say “guilty” to the first count of furnishing alcohol to a minor (Brianna).  We then did the same thing for the second count of furnishing alcohol to a minor (Monika).

To begin our discussion, we went through each of our witnesses and judged his or her credibility. In doing so, we got to hash out all of the details of the case.  We tried to come up with our own timeline of events; we tried to figure out exactly what happened. We tried to determine what seemed to make sense. It was seriously difficult.  That’s when we all started to agree upon all of the holes in the story. We all seemed to have the same questions and a couple of our own theories.

The element of personal injury to the charge of criminal sexual conduct in the first degree needed to be met. While there had been a 2 millimeter “laceration” noted in the medical records of the victim, the sexual assault nurse examiner couldn’t rule out other causes of the injury, nor could she determine how long that injury had been there. The fact that there was no physical, DNA evidence anywhere could have been overlooked had the story made any sense at all.  The personal vendetta theory that the defense had been working on started to seem more and more likely the more we went over what the witnesses had testified. And don’t even get me started on the 9-1-1 tape. We listened to it at least 7 times. I could probably quote it, verbatim.  The worst part: all of it was a fabrication; the victim’s friend/girlfriend had called 9-1-1 and pretended to be the victim. And when questioned on the witness stand by the prosecuting attorney, who was livid, she didn’t have an explanation for her actions.

All in all, we couldn’t convict him of criminal sexual conduct in the first degree because we all experienced reasonable doubt.  It’s such an interesting concept, one that I didn’t even really understand until I felt it.

When we reached our verdict, I wrote Mike the note (“We have reached a verdict”) since we weren’t allowed to speak to him. Another juror called down to his office and told him we had the note ready. Then we waited a few minutes and were called back into the courtroom.  The judge asked our foreman if we reached a verdict and then he read what we had decided.

I still can’t believe I did this, but when our foreman read the verdict, I was looking at the judge.  Can you believe that? I was looking at the judge, rather than the defendant. I thought to look at him, to read his facial expression, after we had moved onto the lesser charges. I missed his very first reaction to the “not guilty” verdict for criminal sexual conduct. By the time I looked over, he looked relieved. He was shaking the hand of his attorney and he looked… thankful. In my head, I decided he was on the verge of tears because he was so relieved.

As soon as he finished reading our verdict, we were shuffled back into the jury room one last time. We waited only a few minutes before the judge came in and talked to us. She seemed to agree with our verdict, which made me feel even better about the choices we had made. She spoke candidly to us about the case. It was really awesome.

Obviously, I think you all can tell that I really, really loved my jury duty experience. I feel like I can honestly say that it is probably one of the most important things I have ever done, and I just know I’ll never forget it. And, just for the record, I think everyone should sit on a jury at least once. It’s an amazing experience!

I’m a catty little bitch.

Obviously, this is not a new realization for me or anything. I’m just putting it out there for you. I’m here for you. ‘Cause I’m also considerate like that. Who knew, right!?

It’s just that I think all these bitchy, judgy things about people and SOMETIMES I even say that stuff out loud.

This is all coming out because of recent events. Lately, my mother and I have been fighting more than usual. I wouldn’t say that we normally fight all that often. I mean, we’re both pretty … verbal… when it comes to being pissed off, so generally things are solved in the moment. When one of us feels wronged by the other, or a disagreement occurs, things escalate quickly. At the same time, though, things are usually resolved and forgotten about after just minutes of screaming our faces blue at each other. It may result in tears but I would say we forgive and forget pretty quickly.

Lately, though,… oh man, it’s been bad. We just yell and say mean things we don’t really mean and then shut down. Nothing gets solved, feelings stay hurt and we get angry. Then we stay angry. And everything we do just eats at us; I annoy the hell out of her with every action and she drives me up a fucking wall with everything she does. This goes on until it just boils over and something snarky comes out and the other one loses her shit.

Being a catty little bitch means that I nitpick and remember the mean things that were said in the heat of the moment that should be forgiven. This means that even after all is said and done, and we’re back to talking and laughing and joking around like always, I can still hear the tiny voice in the back of my head (which obviously belongs to my mother- because good or bad, she’s the one I hear through all the madness) pushing those things we argued about back to the forefront of my mind.

Being a catty little bitch means that I can tap into that part of myself that no one should know is there and say the meanest thing possible in that moment. Because in that moment, it feels good to say it. It feels good to stab the knife in and twist it a little bit. It feels good to know I have earned a reaction, even if it is her heart breaking a little bit. If feels good because in that moment, I won.

The thing is, after that moment passes, I always wish I never would have gone there. I wish I could take it back. I wish more than anything that those words could disolve from her mind and she could un-hear them.

I’ve been a catty little bitch to the woman who gave me life, to the one person on this earth who truly loves me unconditionally. So, I’ve been working on it, because it hurts me too when I hurt her.

And on the eve of my birthday, she deserves a thank you. (And an I’m sorry.) (And an I love you.)

But let’s get real: I’m still gonna hate on people. It’s, like, what I do.

Haterz gon’ hate. Cliches are cliches for a reason; they’re true. Bahahahhaha

Oh, hello.

What’s up?

I’m new here. Not new to blogging (per se) but, like, new to this blog.

See, I blogged here originally, but, for one reason or another, I decided to move my blogging here.

Let’s start fresh, shall we? Let’s be friends. Let’s put the full disclosure rule out there. I’ll be real with you, and you’ll be real with me.

To start off, I’m just gonna outline a few mostly unrelated things about me.

1.) If I start telling a story, I promise I’ll provide a back-story.  I mean, we all know what it’s like when you’re with some people who you don’t know every single little thing about and one person starts telling a story, and the other person totally knows what’s up but you’re sitting there, all awkward and out of the loop, and they just continue on with their story without filling you in on prior, required knowledge to understand the story! You’re totally the odd (wo)man out, and that sucks.  Back-stories are important, friends. I’ll do you a solid and provide that for you.

2.) Sometimes, no matter how hard I try, I’m gonna forget to post stuff here. Sometimes it’s just hard to organize my thoughts enough to feel prepared to post, and sometimes I’m just not gonna feel like it. When times like this happen, and you still feel like you need just an ounce of crazy, there are other ways to fulfill that need. Fear not, I use twitter (more than) frequently, and I also post rando crap to tumblr ’cause it’s sweet.

3.) I get really, really involved in stuff. Not normal stuff like self-defense classes, or church, or friendly games of raquetball, or, like, community events. Ohhhh no, my friends. I get super involved in superficial things, like tv shows and movies. For example, I’ve recently taken it upon myself to re-watch the entire Dawson’s Creek series. I’m on season 2 right now, and it really takes, like, everything I have to not vehemently describe my hatred of Dawson on social networking sites. Oh wait, I’m totally guilty of that. And repeatedly texting seething text messages to my dear friend Erica.

4.) Just when it seems like I’m totally superficial and only care about things that really don’t matter at all (read: that Dawson’s Creek rant above), I’ll come at you hard with stuff that actually matters to me. I’ll sometimes lay my soul out bare for you to browse the wreckage, and sometimes it’ll for no one’s benefit but my own. Life happens, hearts get hurt, and a girl’s gotta get her feelings out. It’s my blog, I make the rules.

5.) Life’s an adventure. My current status is slightly less than ideal but I can honestly say I’m happy. I live upstairs at my grandma’s and she’s a nut (hence the name). I fully intend on sharing the moments that leave me wondering what the hell?! and how is she still alive?! and what was that that she made for dinner that I pretended to love? along with that was so offensive! and get me out of here!

Buckle up, friends. It might get bumpy. 🙂