This past weekend has provided me the opportunity to acknowledge a few special people via a blog shout out.
1. DBA. I've said before that my friend DBA is a double-wammy bestie. Not only did he attend Livingston High school with me, but he also went to Camp Schodack back in the day. And, I think we all know that from a Lauren Fisher standpoint--it doesn't get much better than that. Thank you for a lovely, delicious, and fun belated-birthday dinner on Friday night. See you at the gazebo in 2019.
2. Diana. You taught me a vital life skill this weekend. (How to use a curling iron). It sounds so simple. But, it's been life changing and my getting ready routine will never be the same again.
3. The people in my apartment building having aggressively loud sex at five-thirty pm. This sex was so loud that it woke me from my weekly Saturday late afternoon nap. At first, I thought someone was being murdered. Then I listened a bit more closely. The sex/murder sounds sounded like they were coming from the vents. I put my head near the vent and listened to the loudest moaning, yelling, screaming and head banging that I have ever heard in my life. To the people having Saturday afternoon sex, good for you. I'm jealous.
4. Matt Rockoff. We had a good run on Saturday night. We were at our friend, Alissa's birthday party, the music was on fire with mid 90's hits. Gangsta's paradise came on. The amateurs in the room were singing the chorus, "Been spending most my life, living in a Gangsta's Paradise." But, not me and Matt. We rapped out every last lyric that Coolio had to offer. By the end of the song, we had a small crowd watching us. My voice was hoarse from rapping (screaming) on the top of my lungs, and I was sweating. But, dang! Did we have fun, or what?
5. Becky and Amelia. You make every day a fun day. But, most specifically you made my today, Sunday, a fun day. Whose that girl? La. la. la. la. la. la. la.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Release
Sometimes, you just need a really good cry. Until last night, the last time that I had cried, (and, I mean really cry) was the morning after my 26th birthday. I had just spent the night of my birthday in the hospital next to a screaming homeless woman. I was hung-over, and had to drag my IV cart with me into the hospital bathroom where I puked my brains out. My pinkie was throbbing. And, worst of all, I walked into my apartment at nine am, looking like a very disgruntled walk of shame. Only, I hadn't just come home from doing it. No, no. I had come home from a twin sized hospital bed.
The pain of my finger, the sadness I felt that my birthday "was ruined," and the scariness that most people had no idea where I had spent my night overwhelmed me. I walked into my apartment, sobbing uncontrollably. Mostly, I was just feeling sorry for myself. There would have been no rationalizing with me in that moment. I just needed a really good cry. Since that experience a year ago, I haven't had an opportunity to release my emotions in this same way. (Some could say that's a good thing). Sure, there have been mini choke-ups, (Watching the last episode of Beverly Hills 90210, attending Heatzbabi's college graduation, and watching my friend Josh get married last summer), but no level four meltdowns like the morning after my 26th birthday.
And suddenly, it all hit me. Last night I became very overwhelmed and scared by all that was ahead of me. For once, I was not thinking about boys, hair or clothes (or anything else that makes me an honorary sixteen year old girl). I was thinking about my future, my career path, my often stressful and scary financial situation, and the pressure that I feel as I am getting closer to thirty.
It could have been hearing my mom's voice when I was feeling this vunerable. Or perhaps it was the disappointments and frustrations that I have experienced over this last year, many of which I kept to myself, because I didn't want to burden others. But, my word. The tears...they came. I was standing outside my apartment building, on the phone with my mom, crying hysterically. People gave me sympathetic glances as they walked by me. And, I'm sure that others just thought that I was crazy. But, I didn't care. I was doing what needed to be done. I was releasing a year's worth of pent up emotions. (Release your inhibitions, Feel the rain on your skin?) Why am I sharing this here? Well, I'm not quite sure. But, I will tell you something. I feel much better today. It feels good to let it out. Sometimes, you just need a really good cry. And, sometimes you just need a good blog to share it in.
The pain of my finger, the sadness I felt that my birthday "was ruined," and the scariness that most people had no idea where I had spent my night overwhelmed me. I walked into my apartment, sobbing uncontrollably. Mostly, I was just feeling sorry for myself. There would have been no rationalizing with me in that moment. I just needed a really good cry. Since that experience a year ago, I haven't had an opportunity to release my emotions in this same way. (Some could say that's a good thing). Sure, there have been mini choke-ups, (Watching the last episode of Beverly Hills 90210, attending Heatzbabi's college graduation, and watching my friend Josh get married last summer), but no level four meltdowns like the morning after my 26th birthday.
And suddenly, it all hit me. Last night I became very overwhelmed and scared by all that was ahead of me. For once, I was not thinking about boys, hair or clothes (or anything else that makes me an honorary sixteen year old girl). I was thinking about my future, my career path, my often stressful and scary financial situation, and the pressure that I feel as I am getting closer to thirty.
It could have been hearing my mom's voice when I was feeling this vunerable. Or perhaps it was the disappointments and frustrations that I have experienced over this last year, many of which I kept to myself, because I didn't want to burden others. But, my word. The tears...they came. I was standing outside my apartment building, on the phone with my mom, crying hysterically. People gave me sympathetic glances as they walked by me. And, I'm sure that others just thought that I was crazy. But, I didn't care. I was doing what needed to be done. I was releasing a year's worth of pent up emotions. (Release your inhibitions, Feel the rain on your skin?) Why am I sharing this here? Well, I'm not quite sure. But, I will tell you something. I feel much better today. It feels good to let it out. Sometimes, you just need a really good cry. And, sometimes you just need a good blog to share it in.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Birthday Blog
This weekend I celebrated my Twenty-Seventh birthday. In the words of Mary J. Blige, I'm a real woman now. (Even though Little Mimi Girl says that I don't look a day older than twenty-three). I set four very important goals for my birthday party on Saturday night. They were the following:
1. Do not throw up
2. Do not break any bones
3. Remember events from the night.
4. The last one I will not share here--but if you know me well enough, you can probably guess goal number four.
Well, I achieved three out of my four of birthday goals. Not too shabby for this twenty-seven year old.
My birthday party on Saturday night was great. All of my different worlds came together as one, and you know that nothing pleases me more. To everyone who came and celebrated with me on Saturday night--you made my night, my day, and quite possibly my year. Best of all, I came out of the party with all of my appendages in tact, and thus deemed the night a smashing success! I spent Sunday afternoon with my family, while checking my facebook wall religiously. (An aside: Is there anything better than a facebook birthday wall post?) Nope. I didn't think so.
Perhaps the greatest highlight of my twenty-seventh birthday was my ladies dinner. I'm sure that everyone thinks that their friends are the greatest, but I just might mean it the most. We laughed, we ate, and then we laughed some more. It was the perfect way to end my birthday. While the rest of New York watched the football game, the seven of us were huddled inside a cozy Italian restaurant. I am one lucky girl to have besties like all of you. To everyone who texted, called, facebook wall posted and celebrated with me, you made my day that much more special. Thanks, and I really, really mean it. Twenty-seven, you and I are off to a pretty good start.
1. Do not throw up
2. Do not break any bones
3. Remember events from the night.
4. The last one I will not share here--but if you know me well enough, you can probably guess goal number four.
Well, I achieved three out of my four of birthday goals. Not too shabby for this twenty-seven year old.
My birthday party on Saturday night was great. All of my different worlds came together as one, and you know that nothing pleases me more. To everyone who came and celebrated with me on Saturday night--you made my night, my day, and quite possibly my year. Best of all, I came out of the party with all of my appendages in tact, and thus deemed the night a smashing success! I spent Sunday afternoon with my family, while checking my facebook wall religiously. (An aside: Is there anything better than a facebook birthday wall post?) Nope. I didn't think so.
Perhaps the greatest highlight of my twenty-seventh birthday was my ladies dinner. I'm sure that everyone thinks that their friends are the greatest, but I just might mean it the most. We laughed, we ate, and then we laughed some more. It was the perfect way to end my birthday. While the rest of New York watched the football game, the seven of us were huddled inside a cozy Italian restaurant. I am one lucky girl to have besties like all of you. To everyone who texted, called, facebook wall posted and celebrated with me, you made my day that much more special. Thanks, and I really, really mean it. Twenty-seven, you and I are off to a pretty good start.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
30,000
Sometimes I sign into my blog to edit old postings that probably no one ever looks at. (Except for me, of course). When I signed in this morning, I saw that I had surpassed my 30,000th hit. Yowsa's! This means that my blog has been looked at over 30,000 times. (And, no--not all 30,000 times were from me logging in, but thanks). I literally got a teensy bit choked up at the sight of that number. Yes, I am a giant loser. But, writing here each week means a whole lot to me, and is something that I truly enjoy doing. And, it means even more to me that other people are enjoying my writing too. Thank you to everyone who reads my blog. It means more to me than I'll ever be able to describe here.
And, lastly. I wanted to say this: This past Saturday night, I had dinner with Jimmytown and Katiekiwi, (two of my college besties who were visiting NYC for the weekend). At dinner, we had what was quite possibly the deepest conversation that the three of us had ever engaged in together. It was mature,rational, and thoughtful. And, more importantly it did not involve reminiscing about college or making fun of me. Our conversation spoke of love, life and happiness. Upon realizing that this was quite possibly the most mature conversation we had ever been privy to (in the company of each other). We high fived across the table. Yep. We pretty much ruined that moment. To the next 30,000 hits, thanks you guys.
And, lastly. I wanted to say this: This past Saturday night, I had dinner with Jimmytown and Katiekiwi, (two of my college besties who were visiting NYC for the weekend). At dinner, we had what was quite possibly the deepest conversation that the three of us had ever engaged in together. It was mature,rational, and thoughtful. And, more importantly it did not involve reminiscing about college or making fun of me. Our conversation spoke of love, life and happiness. Upon realizing that this was quite possibly the most mature conversation we had ever been privy to (in the company of each other). We high fived across the table. Yep. We pretty much ruined that moment. To the next 30,000 hits, thanks you guys.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Goodbye Flip
To iPhone, or to blackberry? That is the question. With my birthday approaching, and my nearest cell phone upgrade not for another year, I decided that the time has come. After nearly a decade, my flip phone and I will be parting ways this week.
I recently watched an old episode of The OC. Seth Cohen mentioned "blackberry messaging" Summer Roberts. (His girlfriend). Upon realizing that this episode aired in early 2004, I knew that the time had come. It is the end of an era. (I'm probably the only one still in this era). I am finally ready to join 2011.
Technology really scares me! Or haven't you heard? I just learned how to create a PowerPoint presentation this year. If it weren't for my friend Dave, I would still be using a Dell desktop computer. The TV in my bedroom is a thirteen inch black box with a VCR attached to it. (If you have seen the television set in my room, I give you full permission to make as much fun of me as you'd like). Having this online forum to discuss my thoughts. (Ie: this blog) shocks, even me. My fear regarding this 2011 technologically appropriate phone is that I will not understand how to use it. And yet, I feel I need to come to terms with this: Flip-phones are so 2002.
So, which do I get? The iPhone can do anything it sets it's mind to! And the blackberry has BBM. And for someone that loves to Gchat, I think that BBMing would be right up my alley.
Don't despair though. I have been warned about the dangers of dating and BBMing from my girlfriends. I have learned that when dating someone new, similar to sex, you can never give your pin away too quickly. And, more importantly: When you BBM someone, you can tell if they have read your message, and vice versa. Yikes. I still live blissfully in a world of texting people and having no actual idea when they have read my text message, and the other way around. Yes my friends, sometimes ignorance is bliss.
Will I miss my flip phone? A phone that only allows forty text messages in my inbox and my sent messages before I have to delete them? A phone that actually requires being flipped open to see who is calling? The answer to all of this, is no. Most likely not. As Maroon Five once said, So, this is good-bye. Goodbye to my dumb phone. And, a big hello to a smart phone.
I recently watched an old episode of The OC. Seth Cohen mentioned "blackberry messaging" Summer Roberts. (His girlfriend). Upon realizing that this episode aired in early 2004, I knew that the time had come. It is the end of an era. (I'm probably the only one still in this era). I am finally ready to join 2011.
Technology really scares me! Or haven't you heard? I just learned how to create a PowerPoint presentation this year. If it weren't for my friend Dave, I would still be using a Dell desktop computer. The TV in my bedroom is a thirteen inch black box with a VCR attached to it. (If you have seen the television set in my room, I give you full permission to make as much fun of me as you'd like). Having this online forum to discuss my thoughts. (Ie: this blog) shocks, even me. My fear regarding this 2011 technologically appropriate phone is that I will not understand how to use it. And yet, I feel I need to come to terms with this: Flip-phones are so 2002.
So, which do I get? The iPhone can do anything it sets it's mind to! And the blackberry has BBM. And for someone that loves to Gchat, I think that BBMing would be right up my alley.
Don't despair though. I have been warned about the dangers of dating and BBMing from my girlfriends. I have learned that when dating someone new, similar to sex, you can never give your pin away too quickly. And, more importantly: When you BBM someone, you can tell if they have read your message, and vice versa. Yikes. I still live blissfully in a world of texting people and having no actual idea when they have read my text message, and the other way around. Yes my friends, sometimes ignorance is bliss.
Will I miss my flip phone? A phone that only allows forty text messages in my inbox and my sent messages before I have to delete them? A phone that actually requires being flipped open to see who is calling? The answer to all of this, is no. Most likely not. As Maroon Five once said, So, this is good-bye. Goodbye to my dumb phone. And, a big hello to a smart phone.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Twenty-Seven
I am on the very brink of leaving my mid-twenties, and entering my late twenties. I'm sure that ten, twenty and thirty years from now, I will look back and think that I was completely ridiculous for feeling like I was getting "old." The scary thing is, it feels like just yesterday that I entered my twenties.
It was a cold January night, back in 2004. My friends and I had dinner in Providence. After dinner, we attempted to go to a male strip club. Much to our dismay, we learned that it had been closed. As a consolation prize, we visited a sex toy store instead. Afterwards, we headed back to school, (The University of Rhode Island) for a house party. My night ended in a random stranger's bed. This was the first time that this had occurred thus far in my life. (Though, I'm quite sure that I had invited atleast a couple of random strangers to my dorm room, twin bed prior to my 20th birthday). Waking up in a complete stranger's house, (a fellow URI student), I thought; Wow. I am REALLY in my twenties now. Is there something wrong that my idea of what people in their twenties did included hooking up and sleeping around?
Twenty-seven. Hmm, I just don't know about you. Something about twenty-seven sounds old, mature, and even mysterious to me. I better get used to this. It's funny life's milestones that you think you will hit by a certain age when you're younger. My parents got married at twenty-four. All of my childhood I thought that I would also be married at twenty-four. As I entered my late teens and early twenties, I realized that would not be happening. And, considering that I don't have a boyfriend, I still have a ways to go on this whole marriage thing. At a recent family gathering, my grandma whispered to me--"It's okay, your aunt didn't get married until she was thirty-six." LAY OFF, GRANDMA.
I suppose that what I'm getting at is this: It is hard to believe another year has gone by, (they go so fast), and that for Little Mimi Girl and Craig David, it's been almost twenty-seven years to the day since they birthed me. That can't be easy for them either! Especially, because I am not their oldest child. I am the second child in line to hit this mark. When will I actually begin to feel my age? (If I have it my way, hopefully never). It also probably does not help that I am mistaken for a nineteen or twenty year old every weekend. (As the bouncer very carefully looks at my ID). I swear, Mr. Bouncer, I'm well beyond legal. Listen, twenty-seven. I'm putting all of my eggs in your basket. Don't let me down. K?
It was a cold January night, back in 2004. My friends and I had dinner in Providence. After dinner, we attempted to go to a male strip club. Much to our dismay, we learned that it had been closed. As a consolation prize, we visited a sex toy store instead. Afterwards, we headed back to school, (The University of Rhode Island) for a house party. My night ended in a random stranger's bed. This was the first time that this had occurred thus far in my life. (Though, I'm quite sure that I had invited atleast a couple of random strangers to my dorm room, twin bed prior to my 20th birthday). Waking up in a complete stranger's house, (a fellow URI student), I thought; Wow. I am REALLY in my twenties now. Is there something wrong that my idea of what people in their twenties did included hooking up and sleeping around?
Twenty-seven. Hmm, I just don't know about you. Something about twenty-seven sounds old, mature, and even mysterious to me. I better get used to this. It's funny life's milestones that you think you will hit by a certain age when you're younger. My parents got married at twenty-four. All of my childhood I thought that I would also be married at twenty-four. As I entered my late teens and early twenties, I realized that would not be happening. And, considering that I don't have a boyfriend, I still have a ways to go on this whole marriage thing. At a recent family gathering, my grandma whispered to me--"It's okay, your aunt didn't get married until she was thirty-six." LAY OFF, GRANDMA.
I suppose that what I'm getting at is this: It is hard to believe another year has gone by, (they go so fast), and that for Little Mimi Girl and Craig David, it's been almost twenty-seven years to the day since they birthed me. That can't be easy for them either! Especially, because I am not their oldest child. I am the second child in line to hit this mark. When will I actually begin to feel my age? (If I have it my way, hopefully never). It also probably does not help that I am mistaken for a nineteen or twenty year old every weekend. (As the bouncer very carefully looks at my ID). I swear, Mr. Bouncer, I'm well beyond legal. Listen, twenty-seven. I'm putting all of my eggs in your basket. Don't let me down. K?
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Whoops!
I have a little rule that I like to live by. It's a simple one. And, up until last night, it was an easy rule to follow. It is this: There is to be no making out with anyone who was born in the 1990's. Now that it's 2011, kids born in 1990 will be frequenting the New York City bar scene. (Wow, I am getting old). Last night I was at a bar celebrating not only one, but two friends birthdays. (A camp friend and a high school friend coincidentally had their birthday party at the same bar on Saturday night). It was my very own wet dream.
As the night progressed, I was engaged in conversation with a boy. He was cute, and spoke with an English accent. (English accents always make people sound older and more sophisticated). When my English chap kissed me mid-conversation, I didn't pull away. After kissing for a few more seconds, the boy pulled away and said, with a big smile--"I love being 21 in America." (Implying that he is finally legal inside of an American bar). My heart kind of stopped, and I froze. "Wait," I said as I nervously backed away from him. "How old are you?" I asked. "I just turned twenty-one earlier this week," the boy said. Oh. The. Horror. "So, you were born in 1990," I asked hesitantly."Yes. What year were you born in?" asked my newly legal friend. "1984. I gotta go."
And with that, I turned and walked away from my baby bar boyfriend. For the remainder of the night, I asked any and all boys that I came into contact with how old they were. You never can be too careful.
As the night progressed, I was engaged in conversation with a boy. He was cute, and spoke with an English accent. (English accents always make people sound older and more sophisticated). When my English chap kissed me mid-conversation, I didn't pull away. After kissing for a few more seconds, the boy pulled away and said, with a big smile--"I love being 21 in America." (Implying that he is finally legal inside of an American bar). My heart kind of stopped, and I froze. "Wait," I said as I nervously backed away from him. "How old are you?" I asked. "I just turned twenty-one earlier this week," the boy said. Oh. The. Horror. "So, you were born in 1990," I asked hesitantly."Yes. What year were you born in?" asked my newly legal friend. "1984. I gotta go."
And with that, I turned and walked away from my baby bar boyfriend. For the remainder of the night, I asked any and all boys that I came into contact with how old they were. You never can be too careful.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Happy New Year!
Happy New Year, you guyssss!!! For the record, I may never get over that it's a new year; 2011. Does anyone else find this hard to believe? Two-Thousand Eleven sounds so futuristic to me, and well...I guess it's not. But, perhaps causing the greatest disbelief to me, is that 1991 was TWENTY YEARS AGO! Does the year 1991, have any sort of major significance to my life? No, not at all. It's just that 1991 doesn't feel like it could have been twenty years ago.
If 1991 was twenty years ago, this means that 2001 was TEN YEARS AGO!!! Now, that could take some getting used to. In 2001, I was seventeen years old. Eeek. I am getting old. With a new year, comes new hopes and wishes. What do I hope for this year? Well, last night Becky, Amelia and Ryan suggested some things that I should hope for. Ya know, like learning how to incorporate different kinds of toppings and spreads on my bagels, walking like less of a dingbat in high heels, and becoming more grammatically correct in my blog. But, no matter what--we all hope for true love this year. Even, if we only find it within each other.
If you are a He-Man Woman Hater who thinks that girls can't be funny, then I literally feel bad for you. (You are really missing out). I love my girlfriends. They are raunchy, hilarious, and foul. Their humor is funny, witty, and so slyly subtle, that at times, I think they could actually be comical geniuses. And, we do play quite well off of each other. (If I do say so myself).
I have an upcoming date with a boy. He facebook friended me prior to our date. Doesn't he know anything? This is a big dating no-no in my book. If you go on the date, and it's fun, then sure...by all means, facebook friend away. But, facebooking before a date ensures that both parties are judging each other based on their pictures, statuses and walls posts. Matt, (my upcoming date) texted me to comment on one of my facebook pictures.(A picture where my eye resembles a vagina). This picture was taken in 2007. This means that Matt dug very deep, into my facebook photo archives to find that hidden gem. Even, if I did the very same thing, (stalking his pictures over the last four years), I would never openly admit that prior to meeting someone. And, seeing someones entire facebook page (before ever actually meeting them), is getting quite a glimpse into their private life. It just feels funny.
Upon accepting Matt's facebook friendship, I saw that we had one mutual friend. Obviously, I immediately contacted our mutual friend and asked her to tell me everything that she knows about this human. She told me that he was a really sweet guy, but has the potential to be a "Stage five clinger." Well, hey. That could be a welcome change of pace in 2011.
I hope this new year brings positive hopes and wishes for you all. Cheers to a happy, healthy and hilarious 2011.
If 1991 was twenty years ago, this means that 2001 was TEN YEARS AGO!!! Now, that could take some getting used to. In 2001, I was seventeen years old. Eeek. I am getting old. With a new year, comes new hopes and wishes. What do I hope for this year? Well, last night Becky, Amelia and Ryan suggested some things that I should hope for. Ya know, like learning how to incorporate different kinds of toppings and spreads on my bagels, walking like less of a dingbat in high heels, and becoming more grammatically correct in my blog. But, no matter what--we all hope for true love this year. Even, if we only find it within each other.
If you are a He-Man Woman Hater who thinks that girls can't be funny, then I literally feel bad for you. (You are really missing out). I love my girlfriends. They are raunchy, hilarious, and foul. Their humor is funny, witty, and so slyly subtle, that at times, I think they could actually be comical geniuses. And, we do play quite well off of each other. (If I do say so myself).
I have an upcoming date with a boy. He facebook friended me prior to our date. Doesn't he know anything? This is a big dating no-no in my book. If you go on the date, and it's fun, then sure...by all means, facebook friend away. But, facebooking before a date ensures that both parties are judging each other based on their pictures, statuses and walls posts. Matt, (my upcoming date) texted me to comment on one of my facebook pictures.(A picture where my eye resembles a vagina). This picture was taken in 2007. This means that Matt dug very deep, into my facebook photo archives to find that hidden gem. Even, if I did the very same thing, (stalking his pictures over the last four years), I would never openly admit that prior to meeting someone. And, seeing someones entire facebook page (before ever actually meeting them), is getting quite a glimpse into their private life. It just feels funny.
Upon accepting Matt's facebook friendship, I saw that we had one mutual friend. Obviously, I immediately contacted our mutual friend and asked her to tell me everything that she knows about this human. She told me that he was a really sweet guy, but has the potential to be a "Stage five clinger." Well, hey. That could be a welcome change of pace in 2011.
I hope this new year brings positive hopes and wishes for you all. Cheers to a happy, healthy and hilarious 2011.
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