time to change some thangs

So for a long time I've been walking around saying I want to change my life. And by "change my life" I don't mean something incredibly drastic like move to India, but change nonetheless [blame Eat.Pray.Love for this urge]. My body, my hair, my health, my job, my car, my room color, my tv...I could go on and on about the things I want to change but that would change the point of this blog entirely.

Back to my change checklist. Please note that I love my life and I love me. None of the things that I want to change, from my health to my room decor, are things that are horrid or I hate... they are just things that I know could be better.

Take my health for instance. Am I fat, no. Do I think that sometimes I look fat in certain things, yes [I don't wear spandex outfits for instance, I know my place!]. Do I like my body, yes! I don't want to be ripped and I don't even want to be super tight and firm everywhere. I like being soft, I'm a girl! But do I think I could improve in some way, absolutely.

It is a known fact that being thin/slender does not equal being fit. One of the main reasons that I don't run up the stairs to catch the train, other than the fact that I am deadly afraid of falling on my face and busting my it open, is the fact that I cannot do that without getting to the top totally out of breath. The stairs to the train aren't even that many...maybe 40? But I can't make it. Because I'm not fit [and here I thank baby Jesus that I never got into smoking because god only knows where I'd be if I did].

Do I like snowboarding, yes. Does it kick my ass, TOTALLY. Other than main problem #1, which is that looking down that mountain still terrifies me, problem #2 is that it kills my body. Kills. Falling while snowboarding takes a lot of work, and after falling 27 times, I literally have no energy to push myself back up.

So I started thinking about these things and the fact that I'd like to fit into my jeans a little better. And wear certain outfits with more confidence [not Spandex, I'd never go that route]. And just feel better overall, and I decided to make changes, and for me both are a big deal.

Change #1 is to exercise. Routinely. Not every now and then when the desire hits me [which is practically never]. I started pilates about a month ago. I started the gym last week. Not because it was a resolution, but because I loathe the gym and I knew the only way I would go was if Jenn went with me. So off we went and last week I exercised. I did the gym, pilates, and my little boxing and hula hoop games on Wii fit [don't sleep on some of those games, they will work you out if you do them for the whole time]. A gym buff may laugh at my little routine and call me pathetic, but to you I say f*ck you and remember that I'm a newbie. I want to get physically better but I'm not going to be a hero and go hard at the gym for a week straight! 4/7 days isn't bad.

Now here comes the best part. Today I went to the gym. Alone. I got home ready to go with Jenn but she had gone on a run before I got there and her knee hurt so she didn't want to go anymore. The little voice inside me told my ass to change into sweats and stay home. But the other little louder voice told me to go, and off I went. Alone!!! If you know me at all you know this is a big deal, and yes I am proud of me! :: does a little dance ::

Now, even more amazing than the fact that I'm working out is the fact that I'm changing my eating habits. And I daresay this is even harder than the gym. I was very honest with myself in knowing that I am probably never going to change WHAT I eat. I love burgers and pizza and pasta and seafood and terra chips and reese's peanut butter cups. I love them all. But what I desperately needed to change was HOW I ate. Meaning I can't have 3 peanut butter cups at once. Or force myself to eat every last bite of food, resulting in my feeling like I'm going to explode. Trust me, there is nothing I love more than that feeling, but I do it all the time and that's bad. I thank my upbringing with the fact that while I like fast food, I can't eat it all the time. My body literally craves home cooked food. This also helps with eating out at restaurants; it's tasty but I can't do it all the time [I also like money and eating out a lot wastes a shit load of it. No thanks].

And no this does not mean that when I go to a restaurant I'm going to order skinless chicken breast with steamed rice and that's my meal [gross]. But while I have always embraced being an inner fat kid, and I will ALWAYS be a fat kid, I need to put her in a corner more often. Not forever, just more often.

Classic example of my old fat kid ways: About a month ago I went with my friend to a local bar. Their claim to fame was that they have great burgers and I was dying to try them, so off we went. We got seated and ordered what else, but a beer. After examining the menu we chose our burgers. I don't remember wtf I had but yes, it was delicious. My friend's burger was delicious as well. Mine came with fries but I noticed that theirs had onion rings. So I asked to have one. And it was freaking amazing and I said so. And do you know what happened 2 seconds after? "Let's order a side of onion rings!"

That may not sound like a big deal but you had to see these burgers, they were huge. And I had a lot of fries and the onion rings on the plate were big. But we just ordered a whole separate side order. The MINUTE we said it we knew it was a bad idea but whatever, we decided to embrace our fat kid glory. And let me tell you we STRUGGLED to finish those onion rings. While drinking beer. And finishing our burgers. And then when we were done we laid down.

Uuummm....fail. My new, smaller and better behaved fat kid will enjoy the burger, and the side that came with it and that's it!!! No ordering a ridiculous extra side and then forcing myself to eat it. Ugh how horrid.

So there you go. New me, new goals, new priorities. I hate the gym but I'm kinda enjoying it in a weird way. I'm not going to turn into some health freak. I will still eat what I want, but I am making more of an effort to eat better. I'm like a two year old and I need to eat something every couple of hours, so I'm substituting usual cookies with some things and drinking tons of water. And I will still let the fat kid come out and play, just not as frequently as before.

Although I do really rreeaaallly want a burger. Like now.

...100..

So it's December 2nd and I have yet to set my challenges for the month.

I've also been finding a lot of other "challenges" circling the web, so it got me thinking on what to do.

So here goes...one of my challenges this month will be to come up with 50 goals to accomplish in 100 days [the site I saw said 100 goals for 100 days but I'm realistic and not trying to be a hero]. This one will have a deadline though. I want to have these goals made by December 15th. Trying to avoid that whole "resolution" thing.

I have a love challenge for the month but that's between me and LC lolol.

And speaking of LC...she has given me her own personal challenge: to learn one new italian word a day.

Today's word is pomeriggio [afternoon].

30 days later

And I'm done!

:: throws confetti ::

30 days and 30 entries was actually kind of hard. I have a whole new respect for bloggers.

Then again, they get paid to do this and have millions of hits a day...I do not.

Regardless, it was definitely a challenging thing to do because I wanted to avoid posting a quote or a picture as my blog. Don't get me wrong, I love quotes and pics and every now and then I threw one in, but I wanted to actually write. And I did.

So here's to one of my November challenges, completed successfully.

Now I have to pick some stuff for December...and this makes me realize that IT'S DECEMBER! Holy crap. 2010 is almost over.

Stay tuned...

wanting what you can't have

I was going to blog about something different but due to recent events, I changed my mind. Maybe I'll blog my original idea tomorrow.

As random as my blog is, I try not to write too much about specific men issues that I may be going through at the moment. I tend to keep those more private, but every now and then I break and go for it.

Everyone always talks about wanting what you can't have...the thrill of the chase, the mystery, the excitement. I don't think there has ever been a truer statement.

For 28 years I have watched my friends go after people that don't want them back. And for 28 years, I have seen the same in me. [Note: by no means am I saying that every single person has been a chase, for my friends or I. But yes, it's happened.]

I have watched us cry, get upset, get stressed, mope around, and wonder. And every single time it happens, I wonder why the hell do people do this? Yeah yeah men are hunters by nature and they like things that are hard to get and blaze blah, but really, why?

I can't speak for men but I have a solid belief that women do this because they want to go down as the one that got him to change. The one that got the player to settle, the commitment phobe to propose, the boy to grow up. Our challenge isn't really to physically "get" the man; it's to emotionally make him the man of our dreams.

Think about it. Girl gets boy. Girl is happy with boy. Girl starts becoming unhappy with boy. Fast forward months/years and girl is STILL unhappy with boy. Why? Because she can't get someone else? No. Because she loves him? Yes but not the sole reason. No, it's because she believes that he loves her so much and she is so amazing that he will change for her. And ladies and gentlemen, that practically never happens.

Yes the initial chase is fun and healthy. I'm not a fan of jumping head first into a relationship to begin with, so I can appreciate the beginning stages of coming and going, giving and pulling back. But sometimes it gets out of hand and goes too far. Sometimes you have just had enough.

That rant was kind of just the back story to what I'm going through. I have something to say to someone that may or may not read this, but whatever. Here goes:

Dear Boy,


Once upon a time, I saw you. You saw me. I smiled, we spoke. The next day we had coffee, which turned into seeing some Apples, which resulted into lots of texts on some Berries and ended with...us. All in a week. I wanted you, and I got you. You wanted me, and you got me. We laughed, we smiled, we had silly songs. The 1/A/F became familiar, the place I just wrote a song for became not so far anymore, and our candy red haven was a long elevator ride away. Everything was bliss. And then one day, boy, you declared how much you wanted me. And as quickly as that came, it went. Chase over, hunt gone, you caught me and decided I wasn't worth it. And you left. It hurt, of course, but things happen, people grow, and life goes on.

And because things are the way they are, you came back. Boy saw girl. Girl saw boy. We met up at that place that was right in the middle of our jobs, but still slightly closer to mine. You tried to make it the same, but it wasn't anymore. You may not believe me but I did try. But the fact is, boy, that no matter what you said or did, that memory will never leave me. The fact that once upon a time, you saw me and I saw you. That I smiled and we spoke. That coffee led to Apple and the Berries and...us. And that after everything, when you had me.

You let me go.

And while I appreciate it and care about you, I refuse to be caught again by you, because I don't think you will keep me. And I want someone who will.

I'm sorry.

Love always...

Girl

scrub scrub scrub

My friend posted this article on facebook the other day, with a "whoa" as the subject:

"In the Hispanic community, a clean home is a happy home, but during the holidays, it is critical for the home to be reluciente — or sparkling clean!" So says a bizarre and misguided press release issued by Clorox.

http://jezebel.com/5692397/clorox-claims-cleaning-is-a-rite-of-passage-for-latina-women#ixzz16dhEXzpo

 I braced myself to read it, but I was shockingly, not as insulted as I thought I would be. 

Was it a stupid press release, yes. It was a little dramatic for lack of a better word. 

I also didn't necessarily like  how it was aimed at Latinas specifically.

BUT. Can I say that I did find some sort of truth in it? Absolutely.

Hear me out.

I wholeheartedly believe that things like cleaning are taught by whomever it is that raised you. Would I go so far as saying that it's a "rite of passage"....er no. You're not a "woman" BECAUSE you clean. But is it a taught practice...absolutely.

Growing up, Saturday was cleaning day at home. Every Saturday. Without fail. My mom would take the heavier work while I got small tasks like wiping all of the tables. Once I tried to bamboozle her and I wiped AROUND everything on the table. Yeah she checked and made me do it all over again. Lesson learned.

When my dad got mad, I was given the dreaded chore of cleaning the bathrooms. Probably the easiest area to clean in regards to size but the worst because you have to do manual labor, like scrub. A lot. And I couldn't reach.

When I got older, I was taught how to do laundry and I did it a couple of times a month. And by laundry I mean both mine and my parents.

My go to chore though was doing the dishes. I did them every single day. My parents do not believe in leaving dishes in the sink for the next day. I tried once, gave them the whole spiel on the water helping to take out the spots, and just found my dad doing them later that night.

See? All of those things are things that I did growing up. It became ritual, normal, and expected. When do I clean in my apartment? Saturdays. For the most part I do the dishes after I'm done eating. Sometimes I'm really lazy and leave it for the next day but it'll get done then.

One thing that isn't mentioned in the article directly but that a lot of people commented on was the part about being embarrassed about the cleanliness of your home. My mother hated if I had a friend over and my room was a mess. She would smile and be nice, but the minute they left or we were in another room alone, she would rip me apart and ask me how can I be so disrespectful to my friend. How can I let them see my room like THAT.

As a kid I used to roll my eyes and walk away. Now as an adult...holy crap I totally get it. I HATE having people over and my apartment is a mess. I HATE IT. If I know company is coming, I go into overdrive. If my room is messy, I either apologize profusely as my friends look at me like "this isn't really messy but ok" or I close the door and don't let them in.

Maybe I'm wrong but I see it as such an extension of me. I won't lie when I say that I have seen my share of dirty bathrooms :: shudder :: and I have completely judged the people who live there. [I also believe that if any place should be cleaned weekly it should be the bathroom...just think about what happens in there! Ugh so gross.] You can be the nicest, most intelligent, and attractive person I have ever seen, but if your tub's floor is black...I JUDGE YOU. I do.

I also realized in college that the current messy status of my room pretty much directly correlates to how I feel in life. Everyone knew when I was stressed in school. Finals week my room was a hot mess and I felt like a hot mess. Labs, homework, studying, work, repeat. I still feel the same. When I slip and let my room get really messy...I feel like one. I hate nothing more than coming home from work and walking into a mess. It just stresses me out.

Now that I work, I've applied the same thinking to work. When my desk turns into a mess, it's because I'm all over the place at work. Cleaning it is somewhat therapeutic. It helps me get centered and focus on what I need to do. All of the physical clutter is gone and my brain can think again. It makes me calm.

And I think I just realized that this whole post makes me sound OCD. Oh well.

my song to LES

* written on Nov 27 while on the subway*

LES

LES

I hate you, cuz you're such a mess

You have dirty streets

with a bunch of freaks

You suck every single day of the week

You're super far

even by car

And I'm singing this as I get on my 3rd subway's car

:: sigh ::

Falling in style

Because I'm still going to bust my ass but at least now I'll be in appropriate clothing.

 :: cheese ::

Sansgiving Day

Dear Baby Jesus,

I thank you all of the time but today is that special thanks day so why not.

Today, on this day, I'd like to thank you for everything that you've given me.

For a family that loves me and has always supported me. For my parents who have done everything, for me. For my friends who have stood by me, made me laugh, and let me cry. For the people who don't judge me when I have a moment, allow me to be myself, and love me regardless. For those who have given me special nicknames, bought me coffee when I had a migraine, and know that cookies and ice cream are one of the ways to my heart.

Thank you for my job, however frustrating it may sometimes be. For the fact that I have company paid insurance, a savings account, a new fast computer, and my own cube/office. For my coworkers who are my sanity everyday, for my work boogie who makes everything better, and even for her because she's the reason I have this job to begin with.

Thank you for my luscious dark brown wavy/curly locks [ok I'll stop now lolol], my apartment, grape, my new completely and totally awesome android phone, and DVR. For shiny lip gloss, skinny jeans, and earrings. For the blessing to have been able to travel, and all of the amazing places that I have yet to see.

Thank you for every single man that has come in and out of my life; some have given me pure happiness, while some I wish I was strong enough to beat up. Some I've written poems to, while others have helped me improve on my gutter mouth. Some I've pushed out of my life, while others I wish I could see again. But they have all given me something, taught me something, helped me grow, and helped me learn.

Thank you for every single emotion I have ever felt, every smile I've flashed, and every tear I have shed. Because despite the fact that I have shed millions of them, I have laughed 5 times as much.

Thank you for every single person, thing, and moment you have given me in these 28 years, and thank you even more for every single person, thing, and moment that is yet to come.

 You rock.

Love always,

Your little Bronx/Chilean/Gypsy creation

new attitude

Things have been a little frustrating at work lately [for lack of a better word], so my coworker and I have decided to totally change our attitude about everything.

New thought process: sigh, smile, do it

You need me to write you an email everyday telling you what I'm working on? Done.

Meetings Mon/Wed/Friday, in addition to our one-on-ones and department meetings? No problem.

Want me to write up a summary of every meeting and send it to all attendees? You got it!!!

Just please. Leave me. Alonneeeeeeee.

On a sidenote, I was assigned a new project [mean face] but it totally has to do with what I want to do next with my career & I've been asking to learn for the past 2 years [happiness]

"No one can drive you crazy unless you give them the keys."

Well I'm taking mine back and willingly getting in on the passenger side and going along for the ride.

almost that time

Snowboarding is an activity that is very popular with people 

who do not feel that regular skiing is lethal enough.

- Dave Barry -

Prreettttyyyy much. Now is the time when I start to *feel*

excited, while really concealing the fact that snowboarding

still terrifies me. It's very weird. I "can't wait" to go but I know

the minute I stand on the mountain, I'm going to start to shake from fear.

TMJ?!?

Yesterday I had a slight migraine [and by slight I mean it felt like there was a needle going through my eye]. My friend was over and, having been a migraine suffered himself, he proceeded on giving me a "migraine massage", which consisted of rubbing my forehead, brow bone, under my eyes, temples, etc. When he got to my jaw, right by my ear, it hurt.

Not my head. I mean I felt massage pressure in my jaw as pain, and at the same time the pain in my head got sharper. I told him that had hurt and I got "omg dude I think you may have TMJ!"

If you know me, you know my "wtf" face. If you've ever had a migraine or know someone that has, you know the migraine face, which is basically you look like you're in a daze and/or high. Combine those two faces and that's how I looked at him.

"I'm sorry...TM wha?"

"TMJ!!! It's some crap with your jaw, I had it too and they fixed it and my migraines went away a lot. Does your jaw pop?"

:: proceed on doing my trick where I can make my jaw pop over and over and over ::

After that was all over I was still confused so I googled it:

Temporomandibular joint disorder (TMJD or TMD), or TMJ syndrome, is an umbrella term covering acute or chronic inflammation of the temporomandibular joint, which connects the mandible to the skull. The disorder and resultant dysfunction can result in significant pain and impairment.

There's quite a few symptoms, 2 of which I have...popping jaw and migraines. If you have migraines you will know that we [migraine sufferers] will do ANYTHING to figure out why we have this and how to get rid of it. Take this funky green pill? Sure. Get Botox? Why not! Stick this piece of ginger between your toes and jump up and down while reciting an ancient song? Couldn't hurt.

So for someone to "diagnose" me with something that isn't so far fetched, kinda made me really happy. Google says I need to find a "neuromuscular dentist". I have no clue what that is. What's worse, is that I looked up my insurance today and under the section TMJ, it was blank. Which means I'm not covered oorrrr...I don't know.

But I must research this further. :D

Check mark

The month is almost over and my challenges are going somewhat ok. One of them was regarding my home and specifically was about my getting a plant.

Today...I got one! I present you...Olive!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

my mira mira

A few months before I started college I received a letter informing me that in order for RIT to match me with the best roommate they could, I would have to fill out a survey. Questions on it were along the lines of "are you a night person? how clean are you? do you play music loudly?" We were instructed to answer these questions as honestly as possible so that whatever computer they were going to feed the results into could pick someone out that was perfect for me.

I remember filling out the survey at the kitchen table with my mom constantly reminding me to be honest. I laughed, rolled my eyes, said whatever. How accurate could this be?

A couple of months later I received another letter informing me that my roommate had been chosen. As I stared at her name and hometown, I wondered how the hell was this going to work. She was clearly Indian [her last name might as well have been Smith...but in India], and she was from Sewickly, PA.

Yes...Sewickly. I pulled out a map and couldn't even find it. That's how tiny it is.

The letter suggested that we call each other before arriving in Rochester so that we could work out who was bringing what...fridge, tv, dvd player...etc.

Me being who I am, I stalled. I hate the phone. I hate talking to people I don't know even more. Not only that but in my stalling I managed to lose the paper with her phone #. Fantastic.

After tons of nagging from my mom, I managed to find the paper and sucked it up. It was like August and move in time was a few weeks away. I took a breath, called her, and told her that I was sorry I hadn't called sooner but I had lost the paper with the info.

Her response: "Oh my god me too!"

Well then, there goes one thing we had in common! Shortly into the convo she told me she had been nervous to call me because I was clearly Latina and from the Bronx...and no offense, but she was kinda scared. I told her not to worry I had been scared too. Common factor #2.

We ended up on the phone for like 2 hours that night and I hung up super happy and relieved. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

A few weeks later I met the person who would become the first roommate I ever had in life [hello only child here]. Let's just say RIT's little survey system is pretty impeccable. Meera and I were perfectly matched, both in our opposites and similarities. We're both quiet but I'm louder. I can get ghetto, she doesn't have a ghetto bone in her body. We both hated waking up, loved to eat, fell asleep with the TV on, and always had music on. It was like love at first sight.

Not only did we get along well as roommates, but we became friends and yes there's a difference. I've lived with quite a few people since then but only a few of them transcended that line into "someone I share space with" to "someone I can talk to, lean on, laugh with...etc". Meera and I lived together for a total of 4.5 years and managed to never kill each other. I honestly don't think we've ever even had an argument and THAT is pretty remarkable within itself.

We saw each other through love, happiness, anger. We were always there for each other, no matter what time it was or what we had to do the next day. I can remember the DAY that she met the man who is now her husband, the way she spoke of him, the way they were as little 21 yr olds with crushes. I cried when she called me to tell me of her engagement, flew to Pittsburgh for 4 days to attend her wedding, and will travel to VA to celebrate her future children, whenever that is.

We are now 28 and live in different states but she is one of those people that whenever we do get together, it's like we're back in school. To this day we are still in awe of how well that little system managed to "get us".

So to RIT's roommate matching system...I thank you for giving me a friendship that has been growing for over a decade, and will hopefully continue for the rest of our lives.

[Oh and eHarmony/Match/whatever else online dating system there is...I think you should call up RIT and ask them how they do it because their system is clearly better than yours. Just sayin.]

 

[us at 20yrs old]

randoms

• Today is a day I wish I had a man in my life because I desperately want a massage but I don't feel like going to pay for one lol
• I can't believe all of the hoopla surrounding the next royal wedding...but I'm sad because I was supposed to marry Prince William! Had a crush on him for years. Oh well. At least he's marrying a Katherine hehe
• I heard a rumor Sarah Palin had a reality show and I just saw a commercial for it. Is she serious?
• I'm on a clean-up-my-computer binge...deleting, renaming, copying over to the external. End of the year cleaning for  my macbook.
• I have officially, mentally checked out of my job. This is not good at all.
• The Deathly Hollows was amazing and worth getting home at 3:30am
• I've become delete-happy. Fb friends, phone numbers, files. If you're useless in my life, I delete you.
• Blogging everyday is really hard. 11 days to go.
• I'm slightly smitten with a mirage, but it's such a cute one I can't help it.

Today is the day...

That I've been waiting for since 2007. 

Harry Potter...movie 7...Part 1

...

:: full geek bliss ::

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

wow to war

i'm not very political

i'm not going to go into some huge tirade regarding war

a part of me can even say that i don't necessarily DISAGREE with war,

although i am still scratching my head on why we [USA] are still fighting

in this particular "war"

regardless, waking up today and sleepily looking at FB statuses to

see a RIP and then contacting someone who i knew would know

and confirming that yes, my college friend who i've known

for what...8-9 years now? lost his brother in afghanistan yesterday...

...was absolutely horrible.

i can't even pretend to know how his family is feeling,

how my friend is coping,

how his wife is going to tell his 3 young children that their dad is gone.

i can't.

May he R.I.P.

Dear Obama/Senate/God/Buddha/Mother Nature/WHOEVER...

please get these troops OUT of the Middle East and back

home where they belong because THIS is the most

senseless loss of life ever.

http://rochester.ynn.com/content/top_stories/524191/local-marine-killed-in-afghanistan/

there's no crying at work

And by crying I mean emotion.

I've had a few different jobs that have ranged from serving ice cream, to working in a library, to conducting research and development on remote visual inspection equipment. Despite the obvious difference in work environment that these jobs have all offered me, they have all had in common the fact that the workplace is no place for emotion.

Don't get me wrong, I have almost cried at work. Like when a customer at Bloomingdale's cursed me out because I wouldn't honor her [invalid] coupon, and when a manager came to handle the situation, she just gave the customer what she wanted and went against store policy [and I basically fought for nothing].

Or when my first really big project at my current job was nearing its deadline and I was barely 75% done with it and couldn't fathom how or when I was ever going to finish. Yeah, I managed to get a tear or two come to my eye for those.

But emotional outpours say in emails? No. Never.

Words like "uncomfortable" and "disappointed" should not be in any email regarding how I made you "feel". Unless I cursed you out or harassed you [neither of which I have ever done], why are we sending feeling emails. Especially feeling emails that are coming hours after you let some emotion fester.

Work is work and it does not get completed at my job because of emotions. Do you think any of my PMs give two craps if I feel disappointed with the software? No. Does it work, yes or no? Is it documented, yes or no? ie did I do my job? Yes. Or. No?

:: sigh ::

These sudden experiences at work have let me to a new realization though. And that is the the whole festering thing. The first time this happened, I went to see my coworker and simply said, "That is such a GIRL thing to do! You contacted me and gave me an option, I didn't take it, and hours later you contacted me to tell me that you had expected me to do it anyway. Why wasn't that just said upfront?!"

His response was a simple laugh followed by "Welcome to our life as men. You give us an option when in reality you want us to do it, and instead of saying that you get all upset if we don't".

WELL THEN!

Now that I am on the receiving end of this horribly classic female stereotype, I have seen how not cool it is, and to men everywhere I say I'M SORRY! How completely annoying.

Although, I will say that while this behavior is annoying regardless of the situation, at least in an emotional relationship it's an emotional relationship. There are so many other things that go into being with someone. 

But work? Sorry but work to me still remains a place where your emotions should be checked at the door.

laughter is food for the soul

i love to laugh. a lot. until i cry.

i know for a fact that i cannot seriously date anyone that does not crack me up and that i don't crack them up. i'm not a stand up comedian but i have my funny moments. people tell me so everyday.

my closest friends are all people that can make me absolutely die laughing. and i love it.

jenn has decided that she wants me to be the next viral video. her genius idea is to record me singing to new kids on the block. or somehow super impose me with that little kid that lip syncs his way through everything and dance with him.

:: shrug ::

all i know is that I've been laughing all night and I love it!

family sunday

2.5 years ago when I finally moved out of my parents house for good, and in an effort to mend their broken hearts, I declared that every Sunday would be family day. Nothing special, just my going over there, spending time, and having dinner.

Now that I'm an adult and I look back at these 28 years, it amazes me how the relationship with them has changed. My teenage years were kind of rough to say the least. I've always been pretty calm and quiet but I definitely became an asshole kid when I was 12. I had a smart mouth [some things don't change I guess]. I made my mom cry once. I thought my teacher was a jerk and I always defied him. I also always had a boyfriend and was always on the phone. Not good.

I was never a daddy's girl. My dad was always hard on me and gave me tough love. I feared him, not because he hit me [he never ever did] but because he was no nonsense and just intimated the shit out of me. I always ran to my mom for everything. The first time I ever traveled without my mom I was 13 and I cried on the entire plane ride. That's how much I was NOT looking forward to spending a week with just my dad as the parental around.

Fast forward to now and I can't even fathom my life without them. In college I started to understand why my dad was how he was and this level of appreciation just started to grow. I am his child, no doubt about it. I have become incredibly close to both of them and talk to them about hundreds of things [some stuff is still a no-no. They are still my parents and NOT my friends]. One of my most favorite things has become sitting at the dinner table for hours and just talking to them. I feel like that makes me sound old, but whatever. Being able to sit down and have long convos with someone has always been an important factor in my friendships and relationships. I totally get that from my parents.

oh little migraine

one day, somewhere. doctors will get their stuff together and figure you out

what you do, where you come from and why

and there will be some magic treatment that will just make you go away forever

yup! that's the dream