All or nothing was bullshit. It never worked out that way. Life was all about taking what you could get when you could get it and surviving when it wasn’t enough.
It’ll change your life, I swear.
Barnito Supreme speaks the truth.
New prints are up in my Etsy shop!
You can’t save a damsel if she loves her distress…
Is it just me, or does everyone else’s room get a little dusty whenever they watch google chrome commercials?
A man fishes for two reasons: he’s either sport fishing or fishing to eat, which means he’s either going to try to catch the biggest fish he can, take a picture of it, admire it with his buddies and toss it back to sea, or he’s going to take that fish on home, scale it, fillet it, toss it in some cornmeal, fry it up, and put it on his plate. This, I think, is a great analogy for how men seek out women. It’s not the guy who determines whether you’re a sports fish or a keeper—it’s you. Every word you say, every move you make, every signal you give to a man will help him determine whether he should try to play you, be straight with you, or move on to the next woman to do a little more sport fishing.
Mr. Hightower speaks an insane amount of truth.
I have found my new spiritual leader. Teach me your ways, oh wise one.
…although it’s questionable how publicly acceptable I look when I’m not at home!
Apparently, while I’m at work gchatting with my friends (which is frequently—unless my boss is reading this, in which case it’s occasionally and only on nights and weekends), they’re at home wearing mascara while I’m out in public without a stitch of makeup on.
God forbid I run into the love of my life at Starbucks while wearing my yoga pants that, if we’re being honest, have never been worn to yoga.
Unless it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it’s a waste of your time. There are too many mediocre things in life. Love shouldn’t be one of them.
Via Slowly, But Shirley:
There’s usually a scene in all my favorite shows that never fails to get me all choked up… like this scene from The Office where they explain how Jim’s feelings about Pam is what caused Pam’s dad to decide to leave her mom. Sometimes getting a taste of how things should be makes you realize you’re in the wrong place…
DAVE: You might not meet not somebody tonight, but you will meet someone.
PENNY: You promise?
DAVE: Yes… as long as you promise to stop slobbering all over the champagne.
PENNY: I can’t promise that.
ROBIN: I am never going to have closure. Okay, closure doesn’t exist. It just… ended. And, no matter how much I try to forget that it happened, it will have never not happened. Don and I will always be a loose end. We will always be—
TED: Unfinished. Gaudí, to his credit, never gave up on his dream. But that’s not usually how it goes. Most of the time it’s just too difficult, too expensive, too scary. It’s only once you’ve stopped that you realize how hard it is to start again, so you force yourself not to want it. But it’s always there. And until you finish it, it will always be…
HAL: Well, let’s say that since you were little, you always dreamed of getting a lion. And you wait, and you wait, and you wait, and you wait but the lion doesn’t come. And along comes a giraffe. You can be alone, or you can be with the giraffe.
OLIVER: I’d wait for the lion.
HAL: That’s why I worry about you.
This past week, I received an email from an old high school friend I lost touch with, two of my old coworkers from two different jobs both texted me out of the blue wanting to hang out, and I just happened to cross paths with someone I haven’t seen in ten years. What’s next? The return of Crystal Pepsi?
Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse…
- Find a new home. A new apartment, a new house, maybe a new city… No one is keeping me here but myself.
- Pay off my credit cards. I just paid off my car, but my credit card debt is seriously cramping my style.
- Find a new job. It’s been over four years since I took this internship as a “stepping stone” towards my dream job. Two promotions and seven interns later, I know I’ve reached my full potential here and exhausted my stay.
- Learn how to cook. According to Skokie, it looks like I’m getting better at not burning things, so I must be halfway there! I’ve pinned a ton of recipes to try here.
- Conquer the elusive French macaron. I’m going to bake a perfect salted caramel macaron, and it will be glorious.
- Try new things. The same old is getting old. I can’t remember the last time I did something for the first time.
- Travel more. Go somewhere I’ve never been before for more than just a weekend.
- Appreciate what I have. I’ll try not to lose any sleep over the nine couples I know getting married this year. Yes, I said nine.
- Procrastinate less. If being stuck with no gas at Anthony’s during The Great Blackout of 2011 taught me anything, it’s that Anthony uses Aveeno Skin Brightening Daily Scrub. And that I shouldn’t wait until my gas light is on for two days before filling up.
- Take better care of myself. Eat better, exercise more, get regular checkups. Losing my aunt to lung cancer last year coupled with my mom’s painful battle with pancreatitis def put my health in perspective.
- Be more organized. My dad once told me that guys like girls who are more organized. I used to think it was just something that he said to get me to take the half empty bottled waters out of my car, but now I’m not so sure.
- Go to more music festivals. Outside Lands in SF last year was amazeballs. There are so many other festivals… Coachella in Indio, Lollapalooza in Chicago, Bonnaroo in Tennessee, SXSW in Austin… Where should I go next? Who’s coming with me? And most importantly, which festivals will Young the Giant be at???
I don’t know what’s sadder—that I spent my last weekend in my twenties at yet another baby shower, or that I won the dirty diaper game by identifying 10 out of 10 melted candy bars (some without even having to smell them).
It’s all downhill from here.
11 Things to Know at 25(ish) via Relevant Magazine:
|11. Don’t Get Stuck
This is the thing: When you hit 28 or 30, everything begins to divide. You can see very clearly two kinds of people. On one side, people who have used their 20s to learn and grow, to find themselves and their dreams, people who know what works and what doesn’t, who have pushed through to become real live adults. Then there’s the other kind, who are hanging onto college, or high school even, with all their might. They’ve stayed in jobs they hate, because they’re too scared to get another one. They’ve stayed with men or women who are good but not great, because they don’t want to be lonely. They mean to develop intimate friendships, they mean to stop drinking like life is one big frat party. But they don’t do those things, so they live in an extended adolescence, no closer to adulthood than when they graduated.
Don’t be like that. Don’t get stuck. Move, travel, take a class, take a risk. There is a season for wildness and a season for settledness, and this is neither. This season is about becoming. Don’t lose yourself at happy hour, but don’t lose yourself on the corporate ladder either. Stop every once in a while and go out to coffee or climb in bed with your journal.
Ask yourself some good questions like: “Am I proud of the life I’m living? What have I tried this month? What parts of my childhood am I leaving behind, and what parts am I choosing to keep? Do the people I’m spending time with give me life, or make me feel small? Is there any brokenness in my life that’s keeping me from moving forward?”
Now is your time. Walk closely with people you love, and with people who believe life is a grand adventure. Don’t get stuck in the past, and don’t try to fast-forward yourself into a future you haven’t yet earned.
Give today all the love and intensity and courage you can, and keep traveling honestly along life’s path.
Not only did I receive a reminder from Anthropologie that I’m turning thirty next month, but I also got stuck with a “family” frame (for the husband and kids I don’t have) at the white elephant gift exchange at my office today.
If only I had picked the booze that Jesse brought so I could drown my sorrows.
|3:18 PM||Jesse: so im going to the home depot parking lot in 15 minutes to buy nye tickets from dude off craigslist|
|me: i hope you have your gat strapped|
|3:21 PM||Jesse: if im not back in 30 minutes, call the police cuz ive likely been stabbed and robbed|
|me: can i have your white elephant gift if you don’t come back?|
|3:22 PM||Jesse: of course|
I officially have one month left to make some bad decisions. Where did my life go???
Gandhi said that whatever you do in life will be insignificant.
But it’s very important that you do it.
I tend to agree with the first part.
Don’t postpone what you want.
Don’t leave anything misunderstood.
Make sure the people you care about know.
Make sure they know how you really feel.
Because just like that… it could end.
As someone who relies on a Magic 8 Ball app to make my life decisions, it’s no surprise that I’m all about this wishful thinking crap.
And so today at 11:11, instead of wishing my usual wish that I won’t mention (partly because it won’t come true if I do, but mostly because it’s frowned upon), I wished for the speedy recovery of my best friend’s dad who suffered a heart attack and had quadruple bypass surgery yesterday. And for a miracle to happen for my mom’s sister who is back in the hospital and losing her battle with lung cancer.
This week was def a reminder that life is short.
I think you could fall in love with anyone if you saw the parts of them that no one else gets to see. Like if you followed them around invisibly for a day and you saw them crying in their bed at night or singing to themselves as they make a sandwich or even just walking along the street and even if they were really weird and had no friends at school, I think after seeing them at their most vulnerable you wouldn’t be able to help falling in love with them.
I really hope no one was following me invisibly tonight, because they would have seen me in bed watching Remember Me while sobbing uncontrollably, and then watching the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show while regretting everything I’ve ever eaten in life and trying to suck in that little pouch where I keep my extra cookies.
Nobody needs to see these things.
Know when to give up and have a margarita.
Not only do I teach my interns how to polish a turd in photoshop, but I also encourage them to forego their grad school scholarships and follow their dreams.
Somewhere, right now, Angela’s grandma is giving me the stink eye.
Why You Need A Man, Not A Boy | Mindy Kaling via Glamour
|Until I was 30, I dated only boys. I’ll tell you why: Men scared the sh*t out of me. Men know what they want. Men own alarm clocks. Men sleep on a mattress that isn’t on the floor. Men buy new shampoo instead of adding water to a nearly empty bottle of shampoo. Men make reservations. Men go in for a kiss without giving you some long preamble about how they’re thinking of kissing you. Men wear clothes that have never been worn by anyone else before.
OK, maybe men aren’t exactly like this. But this is what I’ve cobbled together from the handful of men I know or know of, ranging from Heathcliff Huxtable to Theodore Roosevelt to my dad. The point: Men know what they want, and that is scary.
What I was used to was boys.
Boys are adorable. Boys trail off their sentences in an appealing way. Boys get haircuts from their roommate, who “totally knows how to cut hair.” Boys can pack up their whole life and move to Brooklyn for a gig if they need to. Boys have “gigs.” Boys are broke. And when they do have money, they spend it on a trip to Colorado to see a music festival.
Boys can talk for hours with you in a diner at three in the morning because they don’t have regular work hours. But they suck to date when you turn 30.
So I’m into men now, even though they can be frightening. I want a schedule-keeping, waking-up-early, wallet-carrying man. I don’t care if he takes prescription drugs for cholesterol or hair loss. (I don’t want that, but I can handle it. I’m a grown-up too.)
|When I was 19, my co-worker Mike took one look at my 21-year-old boyfriend and told me that I needed to date a real man (Mike was 30 with tattoo sleeves on both arms—I’m pretty sure he was talking about himself). Fast forward 10 years, and I’m still not dating real men! Maybe I’ll consider upgrading when I turn 30… in 3 months. Yikes.|
Goldspot – Rewind
Clearly, I’m having a hard time this week.
Sent from my iPhone.
|12:21 PM||Jesse: are your eyes a little misty|
|me: only if yours are……….|
|12:22 PM||me: did i ever show you this? http://www.dayswithmyfather.com/|
|12:23 PM||Jesse: i dont know if im equipped for this right now|
|im still fragile from that commercial, marion|
I watched this at work and cried silently at my desk. Just kidding. I was sobbing pretty loudly.
Quote of the day:
If they will do it with you, they will do it to you.
Dinner with friends turned into an emergency
girl boy session at Station Tavern last night. Afterward, I polished off an entire bottle of wine by myself like I was the one hurting! Or… like it was just another Tuesday. Ha.
August was a tough month for love! Hello, September. I hope you’re amazeballs.
The universe is obvi confused about what we want, judging by the excessive amount of emergency girl sessions, tears and vino consumed this past month. So the girls and I wrote our own letters to the universe last night and lit that shit on fire.
We were enjoying some sangria afterward when the man at the neighboring fire pit offered us some brisket. Was the universe answering my letter already? Maybe I should have been more specific when I said I wanted more meat in my life!
It’s Monday. It’s the first of the month. It’s a good day to start our new lives!
Your sunshine is blinding me, Shirley May (but it’s hard not to smile when you’re around) ♥
How shitty was this past week? Let’s just say it was a “drink beer for dinner and have vodka cranberries for dessert” kind of week. And I’m saying that because that’s exactly what I did.
Yesterday was the perfect ending to my far from perfect week, though. I had lunch at Influx (where a ham & brie croissant melt #1 could turn anyone’s day around), witnessed sweaty eye candy at the Und1sputed Ones soccer game, and finished the night off at Blind Lady Ale House with pizza, beer and my girls. And some random dude who joined us at our table. And put his hand on my knee.
The fact that I even mentioned the random dude who put his hand on my knee as one of the highlights should be an indication of how shitty my week really was.
Nothing a bottle of sauv blanc can’t fix… especially when you’re drinking it with your REAL girlfriends.
I usually avoid the Gaslamp at all costs, but I found myself there two nights in a row with Christian and his friends this past weekend. I don’t even know who I am right now, but I’ve been full of surprises lately.