things you learn at twenty-two {so far};

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1. relationships and friendships should never be kept alive based solely on how  you both really love paul simon’s album graceland. get a grip; everyone dug graceland, everyone will always love graceland, and anyone who doesn’t love graceland is a robot at the core.  this means once they take a big dump on your heart/ question you buying that one denim skirt with patchwork and tassles that you love because it’s so ugly it’s cute, they should not get immunity because “boy in the bubble” is their jam.
 

i know, it’s a great album. and it’s hard. i know. but they refused to step on your back that one time you really needed your back cracked/ they ate a loaf of your bread without replacing it/they told you you smelled like a dog once, and that’s not a true friend.

 

2. most things can be resolved with watermelon.israeli-palestinian conflict? give those dudes some watermelon. people hating on gay marriage? sounds like they need some fresh, juicy watermelon to cool those hot heads down.

 

3. the only way to walk your dogs is by imagining you are in homeward bound. except not the sad parts. you can imagine the cat-running-from-a-mountain-lion parts, but not the injured-golden-retriever-in-a-ditch-in-an-abandoned-railroad parts.

 

4. navy and bright orange totally go together. eff the haters.

 

5. putting every little, tiny milestone in your life on facebook is reeeeeally annoying to most people around you and i’m not sure you want everyone to know for genuine reasons. i’m glad you got an internship/passed a kidney stone/your baby stopped barfing, but i know you’re just hurting for some likes. be silently content with the lack of baby vomit in your life by yourself. it’s a much cuter look, i think.

 

6.  just because you have four “$4 off your next $20 purchase at cvs!!!!!” coupons does not mean you should spend all of them on orange coconut waters and expired 50% off easter candy.and apricot face wipes. and little flossers that you might have bought because they look like violin bows for kittens.

 

7. princess diaries was meant to be watched twice in one day. that’s the serving size.  dont deprive yourself of this pleasure.

 

8.you really only need one to three good friends. these can include your mom, your dog who has a habit of finding old condoms on walks to the sketchy park where high schoolers go after dark, and your cat that likes to hold hands more than most things. it can also include the cvs man who calls you “sweetheart”. whatever.

 

9. science museums are much, much, much more fun than ragers.


 

10. you’re twenty-two and you still don’t know how to make a bread bowl? what a waste. you could be eating your dishes by now. maybe by twenty-three you’ll know.

new york city ta-da! list;

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if you’re reading this, i finished up my trek to my new apartment in manhattan.

i’ve got a small litter box clumsily stuffed into my suit case. my lucky mustard yellow flats. men’s evergreen-scented deodorant.

which is to say, i’m ready to rumble.

 

i’m a huge fan of to-do lists. buuuuuuut they sound so dreadful.

ergo, the birth of the “ta da! list” which i think just sounds a lot nicer.
{and subconsciously i like to think it makes me more productive.}

 
…let’s get started, ya’ll.

*eat all the big gay ice cream.

*take a class at upright citizens brigade
*henna-dye my hair.
*swing dance allllll over
{the most fun exercise because you can talk while you do it.}
*eat lots of german food.
{boston only has one german restaurant, so this maedchen needs to get her schnitzel on.}
*doughnut plant!
*learn how to read crochet patterns.
*grow my hair to stevie nicks a la rumours status.
*find a yoga place under $35 a class.
*coney island (!!!!)
*go to momofuku milk bar, please. i daydream often of cereal-milk flavored goodies.
*read lots of german children’s books. yay!

 

{did i miss anything?}

dear disney;

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{while i was at home last week i got to go to my beloved disney…
which also means i dropped at least $30 on necessary nonsense}
 

dear disney,
just take all of my money.
you deserve it.
from your meatloaf and 50′s diners.
to your mickey-shaped ice creams.
and your phineas and ferb pillow pets.
and your steven tyler yowling at me while i flip on roller coasters.
{i’ll forgive the elderly people of cruise ships.
the toddlers with wet pants.
and the people that belt at the american idol experience! “ride” for now}
consider it my “i was born in orlando and must pay my bi-yearly disney tax by buying $30 stuffed platypus” payment.

just take it. all of it.

sincerely, me.

sunnin’ the limbs, a playlist;

IMG_4728{click image for spotify playlist. click here for youtube playlist}

 

i think summer playlists are a wonderful thing. the most special of all playlists.

as a former theme park employee who worked in a section of the park where it was always july 4th, 1976 year-round {i.e. working the carnival games outside of the “jaws” ride. no lie.} i know what a typical summer playlist looks like. i did over 18 times a day.

after 9 months of working whac-a-mole i lost the ability to stop myself from twitching when “jeremiah was a bullfrog” blasted over the theme park speakers. i danced with too many scooby-doo toys to pass the time to that songs in a crusty old ring toss game.

i have to physically leave trader joe’s if “good vibrations” is playing. that shit starts up my theme-park-induced ptsd.

that was my 9 months of talking to stuffed animal toys, telling grown men that no, they could not have that stuffed animal patrick the starfish toy because it cost more than their tommy bahama shorts, and having brazilian tour groups accidentally hit me with tennis balls, wiffle balls, and guns with yes, more balls attached to them.

 

i got hit with balls a lot, ya’ll.

and yes, i know how to say “balls” in more languages than i really expected to.

now that i am out of the theme park trenches, i know how a playlist of summer jams can either get you pumped up to get rid of your translucent white legs {like mine look when i put sunscreen on in the beginning of may. whoops.}

or how it can make your left eye twitch or cause people to think you just had a stroke.

 

we’re gonna go with the former route. sound good? i thought so.

my city office {grounded};

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{this summer i’m actually going to tackle all of those things i’ve been meaning to edit, hash out, create, whatever.
i work best with sputtering espresso machines and listening in on conversations between people that met via craigslist.
and my collection of offices in boston is pretty varied and i’ve loved pretending to type things in them these last two years.
this is a new feature that is part-productivity, part-portrait of these places i call my city offices.}

 

location: grounded @ 28 jane street in the west village, nyc.

imbibed and consumed: moroccan mint iced tea + grilled cheese and tomato sandwich. and natural sunlight {yay!}

{all of the multigrain seeds ended up in my keyboard and i regret nothing.}

conversations heard: some estonian chatter behind me, but nothing too juicy.

{that was saved for mother-daughter text messages. }

 

things worked on:

1. mega bus return ticket to boston….for 1.5 hours {internet was as slow as was my brain after ~24 hours of travel}.

2. at least twenty sassy text messages to my mother commenting on how a girl i grew up with stole my mom’s co-worker’s boyfriend.

{follow that?}

topics also covered:

hooters tank tops,

$1200 trips to the dentist {more on this later}

and my dachshund considering doggy suicide. the usual.

3. things blocked on all browsers? facebook. twitter. pinterest. also known as the bermuda triangle of lost time. i used to block these on google chrome, but found i would sneak onto safari to do my surfing thinking it “didn’t count”. now it all counts.

i am productivity, hear me roar &etc.

4. finishing up one of the books in a long string of bus-ride reading this week.

 

things not worked on:


editing 200+ pages of short stories. editing is scary, ya’ll. today’s excuse? “i work better when things are printed out!!!!” you win again, subconscious. printing out 200 pages of awkward non-fiction stories, it is.

 

i also spent too much time giggling over the cute wifi log-in name “you’re grounded.”

i am too easily distracted. and amused.  it happens.

 

{what helps you stay productive? i’m sort of a nerd for being a nerd, if you couldn’t already tell}

mother-lover;

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my mother is a well-loved lady. when i was little i was always so startled by how many people would stop her in the grocery store, and told myself if half as many people stopped me in the grocery store to talk to me, i’d be content. ’cause then i’d be technically half as cool as my mom. achievable goals, ya’ll.

she’s a sassy little lady. and the source of 80% of my brother and i’s jokes. recently the forces of my older brother and mother collided with boston. hilarity ensued mostly because we all can drink and my mom has a habit of thinking of the worst {but best} business ventures and ideas for projects ever. some include the following:

1. glow-in-the-dark toilet seats for pregnant women when they have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
2. a party favor business called “do me a favor”
3. the new pope should’ve come out on the balcony and proclaimed, “what up, bitches”.

on our weekend of borderline infamy, my brother said the following to my mother:
1. “it’s like you want to get smacked, mom.”
2.”dont be a dummy.”
3. “if i wrote where the red fern grows, you would have been the gross bad guy that killed one of my dogs.”
{and five minutes later}
4.”…i just realized you killed my dog.”
5.”is {what you’re about to say} actually funny or is it ‘i laughed in swingblade’-funny?”

what this all translates to, is “i love you, mommy.” my mom is just another perfect piece to the crooked, weird puzzle that is somehow depicting the 100 piece set of chubby pugs in a red wheelbarrow that all puzzle companies seem to have, that i call my family. i think she’d be the crafty, chubby pug, giving personal advice to the pope about her new patented glow-in-the-dark toilet seats in the back.

but that’s just me.