You can't talk about that.

Alright, so. I'm going to be talking about something that I always find hard to talk about. It always seems taboo, so I rarely bring it up.
Depression. Anxiety. Counseling.

As some of you may know after my last ordeal with hives (remember the post about going to the Dr and she was clueless, I had a picture of hives all over my face, swollen with raggedy hair) - Anyway, I finally went to an allergist to determine what I needed to avoid so I would never have to deal with that again. I would have given up cake if they told me I'd never have another hive in my life. Well, I went, and I'm not allergic to a thing. Not a single thing. So my allergist ordered a blood test on my thyroid, did it, got the results and I have a disease called Hashimoto's Thyroiditis. I don't expect anyone to actually go research this, but since I've done a decent amount of that in the time I've known about it, I've summed it up for you:

It's an autoimmune disease which means sometimes my immune system attacks my thyroid. It is the leading cause of hypothyroidism - underactive thyroid - so my thyroid doesn't make enough of the hormones that my body needs.

Symptoms of Hashimoto's (There are many more, these are the ones that apply to me the most)

• Insomnia - why I'm writing this at 3 am.
• Low metabolism
• Irregular Periods or Menorrhagia - I was diagnosed with that in my late teens
• Anxiety/Depression

Most of these things I have dealt with on and off my entire life, I always just assumed they were normal things. But I'm really not here to talk about my thyroid.

There aren't really a lot of people that know my whole story, but tonight I was talking to my friend about dealing with anxiety and depression. I think it's about time that it comes out into the open because at my worst times not only did I feel alone, I felt like I couldn't talk about these things because its so taboo. People don't want to hear about how sad you are or how worried you are. I was ashamed that I couldn't control my emotions, that I couldn't quit dwelling, and I was ashamed that I had started to see a therapist. Those are things for other people. Not for me, I'm an independent woman, I'm a grown up, my finances are under control, I held a steady job - so why was I such a nutcase?

Back in September (2013) I had a couple big changes in my life, medical, personal, and professional - and I hit absolute rock bottom. I woke up, I went to work, I came home and went to bed. Repeat. Everything made me sick, I over thought everything and nothing. I basically quit my life. I lost 16 pounds in a month, I'm pretty sure I went 3 days in a row without chewing anything. I had to force myself to eat because I still had limited functional thought about nutrition. I talked to a few people about my problems, sobbing through every conversation. I couldn't control it, I couldn't control anything for that matter; and again, I was beyond ashamed of myself. Other people have gone through way worse things and they are living normal, healthy lives.

Eventually, I was recommended a therapist and I started going. I was prescribed anti-anxiety/depression and sleep medication. It really helped me, but do you want to know what's so disgusting about this? I spent so much time living with this I actually began to miss the sick feeling I would get in my gut. You know that place right above your stomach that turns over when you're overly worried about something? Suddenly, something would pop up and I would think about something that's wrong and I realized I didn't have that wrench in my gut, that pang, that twist you get when you're suddenly terrified. The best way to describe it is that I didn't feel full anymore, somehow I wasn't satisfied with my own anxiety.

Anyway, I didn't tell a soul, not even my family. It took me a month before I even told my best friend
and you know what she told me? That she takes medication for anxiety AND that it's a lot more common than I thought. I was shocked! How did I not know this about her? I'm sure she wasn't hiding it from me because she thought I would judge her... People just don't talk about things like this.

How do you even bring something like that up?
"I had spaghetti for dinner tonight, also, I'm on Xanax."
"Oh really, I love spaghetti."

A lot of people inadvertently made me feel worse than I already did. They never meant to do it, most of the time they were actually trying to help. But the majority of the time it came off as very condescending. "Stop thinking about it so much." "Have you tried doing more things to keep you busy" "Go to the gym, exercise releases endorphins. It will make you feel better." "Have you prayed about it?" "You need a man."

That one was always the worst... making a reference to dating. 1)  I'm an independent woman, I'm a grown up, my finances are under control, I held a steady job. I don't need men! and 2) I was 7 shades of crazy, WHY would I want to bring a poor soul into that?

Yes, once I climbed out of the pit of despair I dove into everything I could to make myself stop thinking. I volunteered at an animal shelter on Thursdays, went to Bible study twice a week, started babysitting after school every day for a 7 year old girl. I went to the gym every day. But it doesn't work like that for me. I still struggled every day. Every night that I made it to bed without crying was a success. Bible study was wonderful, completely eye opening... but after I left every night I felt more alone than I did before I went. Going to the gym never made me feel better, it was more time in solitude that I had time to think. Except! When I started CrossFit! That hour of my day was truly the only time I completely forgot my brain and was focused 100% on my body. That's half the reason I love it so much, and shout out to the amazing people that pushed me through when they had absolutely no idea what they were doing for me.

The only time I really felt like me was when I was teaching. I had 130 other faces all day that needed my attention. But even then, I wasn't giving them everything they needed, I couldn't give them all of me. I couldn't focus enough to plan great lessons, I became frustrated very easily, I slacked on grading and returning their things to them on time. I think most of them knew something was really wrong with me, and for the most part they tried. They showed me a lot of love and support through out the year, and I can never repay them for that.

Fast forward. Throughout the past 10ish months I've gone through the lowest lows and the most ecstatic highs and everything inbetween. Recently, however, I've been off of all medication and I have been fighting to be normal. (I say 'fighting' because some days that's truly what you're doing) Some of the reason I'm not taking anything is medical, some of it is necessary, and there is a part of me that wants to see if I can be in control again without the medicine. But today, it's hard, really hard.

It's not always a constant thing, I'm not sad or crying 24 hours a day. In fact there are plenty of times that I am normal and happy. I can't tell you how many nights I've laid awake in bed and how many days I got out of bed just in time for my family to get home for lunch so they wouldn't know I just got up. Although I haven't talked to my parents about it, I'm sure they have noticed too many times that I'm not ok and they let me get through it. I owe them so much for that because it is SO HARD to put up with someone else's misery. They don't make me talk about it, which I'm also thankful for, there is nothing for me to talk about. It's ok not to be ok! It's fine not to be happy and not to know what you're doing with your life, or what your next big move is, or to be sad about missing someone. It's ok to want to talk about it or to not want to talk about it. It's ok to shut everyone out for a little while.

I'm not sharing my story for everyone to look at me and think, Oh poor Sarah B, we need to be nice to her. In fact, I know there will be people who look at this as a cry for attention. Maybe it is, whatever. There will be people who tell me I shouldn't put the chemicals in my body - but the fact still remains, my body doesn't give me everything I need, I don't know yet if I can. What I'm really hoping for are the people who will read this and identify with me. The people who have been hiding a part of themselves because they are worried, or scared, or feel shameful that they've lost control. Chemical/hormonal imbalance, anxiety, depression, etc. are real and just as medical as the flu, alzheimer's, and cancer. And yes, I really did just compare all of those things together. It's all about getting back in control, and sometimes that's hard, but it's not impossible. Most of all, you really aren't alone.

It's ok.

My conversation with Jill, asking her if I could write about her in here.

Why I don't feel bad for people with "disabilities"

Calm down, I know the title seems harsh. But, please, before you make any judgements, please read this through with an open mind.

First, let me explain that I rarely use the terms disability or handicap. There are too many negative connotations that go along with those words that instantly put people off. There is too much of a focus that an individual is now somehow limited because of their disability. And I never, ever use the term 'normal' as an opposite of different.

Second, I'm not always the best with words so this post might be very straight forward at times and this is where I need you to know that I mean to say nothing with malice. This is my blog, my opinion, and my experiences only.

Third, I haven't even brushed my teeth yet and my mom is looking at me like I'm crazy because I walked straight out of bed, picked up her computer and said, "I need to write!" (I can't forget everything I was thinking) Obviously, I also look beautiful.

Alright, also. This could be long.

A few months ago, a lady I know who is pregnant found out that her child will probably be born with Down Syndrome. I found myself not feeling sad or sorry for her. Not in any way, shape, or form. In fact, I actually felt excited. Naturally, I didn't say that to her, she was scared, this was brand new to her. I originally wanted to write this post then, but never did.

Yesterday, my mom told me a family we know found out their son is deaf. Born with a sensorineural, mild to moderate hearing loss. The same as my brother.

*For those of you who don't know, there are two main types of hearing losses and I will try to explain them in the most simple way I can. Conductive - typically meaning something is wrong with the sound waves entering your ear; an issue with the ear, ear canal, ear drum, or bones. And Sensorineural - the issue lies in the nerve sending the sound from the ear to the brain. For an explanation of the levels, please go here: http://listeningandspokenlanguage.org/Document.aspx?id=1101 This is the simplest, best explained chart I could find.

Anyway, when my mom told us that this brand new baby boy is deaf, I was excited! It wasn't just me, two other people were excited, someone who is Deaf himself responded with  "Oh really? Cool!" and another hearing man whose parents are Deaf responded "That's awesome!" Genuine, from the heart, excitement from the three of us. Why are we so excited though?

I just told you my brother is Deaf (most of you knew anyway). I was four when he was born and the only memory I truly remember before him was eating dinner at Christmas and proclaiming, "I'm ready for the baby to come!" He has been around my entire life. We (I say that loosely, meaning my parents) found out he was Deaf around 8 months old. Mom said she suspected it earlier, but it wasn't confirmed until then.

From the start, this boy has been different. Different in the way that he hears, in the way that he acts, how he perceives others, treats others, loves, shares, feels, expresses, lives. Mitchell is different and he is the single best thing to ever happen to my life. I've had this conversation with two other of my friends who grew up with a sibling who was different (meaning having some 'disability'). We all feel the same way. Our lives are changed, and we are better people because we grew up with someone different in our family.

Most people don't get this experience. But I did. In my life, I've seen him occasionally struggle socially, academically, random, regular world things that most of us take for granted every day. He always pursued, he never once gave up, never felt sorry for himself, and never lashed out at others. It has helped me to see people differently. Perhaps to be a little more understanding to people who aren't as mainstream as the people I am used to. It has helped me to be more compassionate and understanding in a way that, maybe, they don't receive from a lot of people. It has helped me tremendously as a teacher, to be patient and kind, even when patience and kindness weren't given to me. I sometimes understand people differently because I've seen different.

Even with everything my brother may have encountered while being Deaf, he has always been my rock. He has always given me 100% when I needed it. He has never held back when I needed him and is the only person in my life who I can say has never once let me down or disappointed me. This is where I got my title, Why I don't feel bad for people with "disabilities", Mitchell is different and he is my absolute best friend.

Someone who grows up different has this capacity to love that I've never seen in anyone else. This love is unconditional, it is pure, and it is amazing. Mitchell is the single most accepting person I have ever met. I don't see him turn people away because of something superficial. He sees people for what they are, he looks past face value, and always finds the good in them. Don't get me wrong, of course there are people that he doesn't necessarily get along with, but I know he got the chance to know them before he made any decision.

Now he's an adult, goes to Gallaudet University (the University for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing in Washington, DC). He plays college baseball, writes occasional articles for their newspaper, has an outstanding GPA, is working as a counselor at a camp for Deaf kids this summer... I could go on and on and on... but really, it's not all about him. I'm speaking from my experience within the Deaf Community. I go to visit him as much as I can and Gallaudet feels like home to me. I have met so many people who have accepted me for no other reason than the fact that I was in their presence. And I don't mean that they let me sit with them at the baseball games. I mean they included me, were interested in me, they truly embraced me.

So yes. I was excited when I found out your son was Deaf. Brad was excited, Mitchell was excited. Because you know what you have now? You have a way to look at the world differently. You have all these doors that were open to you, but you never knew were there! You have the chance to raise another amazing person who will touch the lives of others. Maybe someday, years from now, you'll be excited for someone else too.

I'm not a parent and can't pretend to know the struggles of one. But I can tell you this. Having someone who is different in your family is going to bring you some of the happiest, proudest, and most joyful moments of your life. And this is coming from a sibling, imagine how your heart will burst as a parent! No, it won't always be easy - it never is. But you're going to feel love you have never experienced before, and that - that will be amazing.

I hate running.

So, today, I was running.

Don't ask me why.... Also. I'm sorry I never write new blogs anymore! I know all of my loyal friends have been missing me and wondering where the void in their lives originated. I'm sorry you two.

That was a good distraction wasn't it!

To the rest of you. You. If you know me at all you know I hate running. I truly think it's the Devil's work. I do it anyway. Mostly to get rid of fatness. Well today I was doing the Devil's bidding and all I could think about how much I hate running. People say all the time they love running, it's liberating, it makes you feel good, blah blah barf. My sister once told me that once you really get into it and you get a few minutes in it starts to flow and it gets easier... I'm still waiting for that to happen. I think she's a liar.

I hate running and let me tell you all the reasons why.

1. I get out of breath when I even THINK about running.
2. I have little legs. My legs have to move a lot more than normal people's do to make up between time and space.
3. I get bored. Really bored.
4. My hair bounces around. I look like a horse, but oh no, not like a majestic running horse, I look like a horses butt.
5. My skin gets really red when I work out. It's embarrassing to me for some reason. I look like a tomato face.

Stupid. I hate running so much I don't even like when other people run. It makes me feel bad about myself for being so lazy and such a terrible runner. I always have the urge to yell at them. I'm not kidding... Yesterday this man had been running for 87 minutes! That's almost an hour and a half! I felt like he did enough work for the both of us... I almost left!

I don't run outside. I hate the cold and I don't like to bundle up because it's takes more energy (that I don't really have) just to already do something I dislike. 

I also hate lifting weights, the bike, and the stair master.... Pretty much exerting my body in any way. Ugh. But! Today was butt day. At least I got something good going for me!

2KXIV - Wait... Do people still say 2K?

Happy 2014 Nerds!

I recently brought in the New Year (you can thank me later for doing you this big favor) with the most amazing woman to ever walk the face of this planet - Me!

Just kidding... although this is how my thought process went.
-Are people gonna understand that's a joke?
-Wait... Yes, me! I am important
-I need to start treating myself better
-Sarah B, don't be that person who writes a whole self help post about loving yourself
-JILL!

Back to the point! I spent my NYE with my best friend. She's pretty awesome and I feel bad for everyone who doesn't know her. I'm going to be the Maid of Honor in her wedding (that really has nothing to do with NYE, I just wanted to brag for a minute).

We spent the night celebrating in style, no better way to end the year than doing the same things you did all year. And by in style, I actually meant, we wore sweat pants all day, got dressed up for our party, and ended up changing back into sweats at about 10:30. We went shopping, went out for lunch, painted our nails, watched Pitch Perfect, baked cakes, then got ready for our fabulous extravaganza! For those of you who don't know, the definition of Extravaganza (n.) - going to someone's parents house to sit around playing games that test your knowledge of useless information and hanging out on the couch.

I loved it. It was perfect! I love her. She's perfect!

Really though, what I wanted to talk about today are New Years Resolutions.
1. What is the grammatically correct way of saying this. Shouldn't it be New Year Resolutions - because it's a New Year, not a New Years. Or is it New Years Resolution - like you're only making one resolution?
2. Stop judging me

I love when people make resolutions for the new year (<--- problem solved)

First, just because it's the beginning of the year you're going to make some awesome change in your life? Good thing it wasn't important enough to start the moment you realized you needed a change.
I make my resolutions on my birthday every year (I don't really follow through with those either lol)

Second, the gyms are full of either A) people who have absolutely NO idea what they're doing. or B) narcissistic college kids. Neither group stays longer than 2 weeks. Glad that gets resolved quickly!

However, I did decide to make a couple of Resolutions for 2014. They came about during conversations with some friends, so I'll share those with you. You're welcome

Learn a new awesome skill: Cat whispering. Teaching. Cleaning. If you have any suggestions please leave them below.

Me- I'm not going to lose any more weight. My new goal is to gain weight
Jill- Yes! It's so much easier than losing weight
Me- My goal is to weigh 200 pounds
Jill- Perfect!
Me-... no... 250 pounds... it's something to work for
Jill- Right! That's a real goal
This is why she's my best friend. She's so supportive!

Me- I've decided I'm not going on any dates in  2014
Jac- .........
Me- that's the pathetic person's way of justifying being single isn't it
Jac- Hey, it's a good goal. You end up with a boyfriend... good job. You don't... you achieved your goal!

This is my brothers FB status and I think it perfectly explains my attempts at any resolution.

Why do people keep saying it's time to make new year's resolution?! It's kind of stupid really. "New year's resolution: start eating healthier" First day: ate salad, drank water, ate fruits, Avoided cookies and cakes. I can do this! Next day: stuffed head in batch of cookies....

2014 is gonna rock!

Jill and I at Buffalo Wild Wings eating lemons instead of putting them in our water. Solid life choices.

The Bachelorette: Survivor/Apprentice Style

So, recently I was talking with a friend of mine how much we adore men (sarcasm). I think we're both just a little bruised and bitter... but anyway, I really wanted to share the conversation with you.

Me: I'm not dating til I'm married
Her: Hahaha I love that saying! My dad used to tell me all the time that I couldn't have a boyfriend until I was married. I'm so glad someone else understands that! Every time I tell someone, they just stare at me like I'm stupid.
Me: Yes! I'm just going to get married and then get to know my husband and make him take me on dates. Where's the closest mail order bride service I can sign up for?
Her: haha I love it! yeah seriously. ugh
Me: Can we sign up as a group? Like only men from the same neighborhood can marry us?
Her: Yes let's. And we need to be picky
Me: Yes! It's going to be an application and interview process
Her: Oh definitely! We do not need any crazies!
Me: Yea. I know someone that can probably do a background check for us
Her: Perfect! Definitely need those. They need to give us examples of date ideas too... what would they plan for a date?
Me: Omg. This convo will be my next blog (yep!)
Her: hahah yay! Love it! We are pretty smart :)
Me: We are. And we're awesome.
Her: Um yes of course! These men will be put through hell... and then we will be nice :)
Me: Yep! It'll be like the bachelorette except survivor/apprentice style
Her: Yes very good!! That is a great comparison :) and what to give out if we like the person... can't be a rose - that's too nice
Me: No... We punch the people we're getting rid of. The gift to the ones who get to stay is that they don't get abused.
Her: Great idea. I could really go for punching someone lol

Yes... well... so... somehow I always end up solving my problems with violence. That is not a good thing boys and girls. Violence doesn't make you feel better, it's being sneaky and passive-aggressive planning, that will satisfy your anger.

But the point is. My friend and I are both beautiful, awesome, smart, beautiful, funny, blonde women who are fluent in ASL. (I don't know why, but I felt that needed to be included in our talents) We are also beautiful in case you didn't catch that.

We are currently in the process of creating an application to date us. Men who are dumb, mean, liars, or just plain poopy need not apply.

I'm Running Away

I think it's time, my dear, sweet, internet friends... that I do some soul searching. If you're my friend on FB, you probably already saw that I'm going to take a break. What I really need is a little hiatus from social media, from letting what I see happening in other people's lives influence me. I've been going through a decently rough time, just trying to find myself and my purpose and the things that make me happy again. I'm trying to move forward.

I don't even really think it will be a long break. I like seeing what other people are up to on Facebook and Instagram, it's a fun way to stay in touch with their lives even when we are far away. But right now, for me... I see too many things that make me think too much. I see all of my friends who are seemingly moving on with out me. I feel like I'm stuck in a place I don't want to be. I'm not talking about my city or my job, I truly love them both. I mean all of my friends are getting married and having children. That's cool, I have my cat. And one of my fish recently died. I know that I don't need to be married or have children to make me happy, but those are two things that I do really want in my life (eventually). I see these things all the time, so I think I need to have them, it's a continuous reminder that other people have the things I want. I'm sitting over here coveting and brooding. That's not healthy...

I've been alone lately and I don't really like it. But I've been alone watching so many people who are not alone. If I'm going to be alone, I need to do it without desiring the things others have. I'll be back soon, I'm sure because I've never had much will power. But contact me if you want to, I can always use some good news. I'm sure most of you know a friend of mine that can give you my number or address. Please, I beg you, do not call me just to talk about my feelings or what's wrong, I'm so tired of that. Be safe, be healthy, and be happy.

Everything Needs A Title

I know it's been seriously too long since I've blogged... Sorry fans and potential stalkers, please accept my sincerest apologies.

Let me explain myself. For me, this blog is all about being silly. It's not typically meant to be serious because everyone needs something to laugh at. But I just haven't found it in me to be funny, it's hard when you feel like most of your life got put into the washing machine.... with a brand new red sweater. Everything went in one way... and came out completely different than you expected. I also don't like to talk about my 'issues' too much. It makes me feel desperate for attention and dependent and weak. I'm not saying that I'm not these things, because there are times that I definitely am... but it makes me really uncomfortable when people try to offer me solace. If I want to talk about what's wrong with me, I'll come to you. If you are one of those people that feels you need to intervene and make things better, let me tell you the best way to do it.

1. Be funny, most of the time I need a getaway. I love to laugh.
2. Don't try to offer me the story of the same thing that happened to you. It does NOT make me feel better, instead it makes me think more.
3. Don't tell me, it'll get better, oh I'm so sorry... or offer any other type of solution. I don't need a solution to my problems, I need to laugh.
4. Play with my hair. That instantly makes everything better

If you're just nosy (like I am) ask me what's going on. I'll probably tell you. If not, then the worst thing I'll say is that it's none of your business. But if I do decide to tell you, please refer back to my 4 previous points of how to proceed.

ANYWAY! Enough of that.

This weekend I visited a couple friends from college and I was asked twice if I'm still posting my blog... that's not a lot really, but it was weird because I haven't even thought about my blog in months. Then this week I was going through my phone and found all of my blog ideas and added to the list of things I wanted to write about and suddenly two random people (that I didn't even know read this) mentioned it.

So, hopefully I'll get that inspiration to start writing again soon because I really do love it. Writing is a way for me to focus all my thoughts. I feel that my mind is always moving too fast and I can't concentrate. When I write I can only focus on one specific thing at a time. For that short amount of time that my mind isn't running away I'm so calm and relaxed.

Posts to come:
- How to avoid men in the Hearing World vs. the Deaf World
- Layman's Terms: Taxes. Why are these things so complicated?
- Slow turners
- Single people in bars aka Losers
- How bad I am with directions
And my personal favorite

- "Nice Guys" Let me just tell you why you're still single.

The End.

Dandy!

Soooo.... Heyyy. I missed you.

I'm going to keep this short and sweet. I love the movie Pitch Perfect and I watched it recently. I learned the Cup Song (When I'm Gone - done by Anna Kendrick in the movie - but I'm pretty sure was originally done by Lulu and the Lampshades)

Anyway. Yes. I learned it. And I'm proud of myself. So I'm posting it on here for all of my loyal fans. Also. I got dressed up just for you. Be thankful.

This is only the first verse, I actually know the whole song... surprisingly enough... but it got too long and even I was bored.

There are some places you just need to wear your fake engagement ring

I'm a person who is all about corny pick up lines. I think they're great, as long as they're intended to be cheesy. The quickest way to my heart is to make me laugh. (That's not true. The quickest way to my heart is to give me ice cream and tell me it won't make me fat.) 

I've gotten the multitude of funny lines and have even used a few myself. Some are perverted, some are masochistic, some hardly even make sense. I don't really care, I think they're hilarious. Totally worth the try if you want to make someone's day.  

However, today I was given the one line I can't stand. "Your boyfriend is a lucky man." 

This is a tester line... Meaning no one has previously mentioned a boyfriend. Guys use it because they're too scared to actually just come straight out and ask if you have a boyfriend. But at the same time they're also giving you a lame compliment telling you how great you are. 

Yes, thank you sir, I am awesome. You, however, did not impress me in the least. 

I really don't find it attractive when men can't be straight forward. I'm a pretty upfront lady (I say lady because it makes me sound better about my lack of sensitivity sometimes). Yes, I know sometimes it's not a line, it's an honest compliment. Today's situation was not that. It was weird

Men- we do not truly appreciate the compliment in this scenario. We women are keen on your shyness. And for me let's be real. With all my crying, I cover all the overly dramatic, woman-sensitive-coyness in my relationships. I need you to please man-up and stop being girly. 

Also! Enough with the double standards. Men are clueless about every subtle hint a woman drops. We are told to 'tell you exactly what it is we want.' I'm not saying we don't pick up on you hitting on us, but drop the act. It's just as annoying to us. (And it's not our fault you're clueless to anything woman-related anyway)

So let me tell you why I have decided to post this today. 

So I'm at the gym, right? I always wear my headphones for 2 reasons. 1) I like to listen to my music. And 2) I'm at the gym, I really don't want to talk to anyone. I'm sweaty and smelly and I come here to focus on me. 

Still, a man on the machine next to me decides to strike up a conversation. Wasn't horrible, talking about summer and my weight loss (I'll stick in anywhere that I lost 20-some pounds). We talked about swimming and the pool and stuff. Which is kinda where I draw the line. I really don't want to talk about bikinis with strange men. 

And boom! This Not-Juice-Head-Guy at my Juice Head Gym comes out with, "You look great, your boyfriend is a lucky man.'

Um. Excuse me. There hadn't been any mention of boyfriends or girlfriends yet. It was awkward, misplaced, bad timing. I really wanted to tell him that was a bad choice in pick up lines. No one said I did or did not have a boyfriend. That if I didn't have one, that would not have been the way to become my boyfriend... Because obviously any man who talks to me wants to be my boyfriend. Duh. 

I didn't say it though. I shouldn't have been as put off by it as I was. But I couldn't help it. So I just said, "I'm the lucky one! He's hot!"

That was pretty much the end of our conversation. Oops. If any of you Internet people have ever wondered why I share my life with you instead of my real friends, I hope this clears up any questions... 

Summer Bucket List

Well hello there my fabulous friend. Why are you back? I'm pretty sure I've asked you all to stop reading my blog. I really only write it as something to do... It's more of a way to express myself because I live alone and have no one to talk to at the dinner table, so I write to my internet friends.

I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm sorry that you all obviously have even less real life friends around than I do or you wouldn't be wasting your time here. That, or, you and all of your cool friends sit around and laugh at my awesomeness and grammar mistakes. Because, you know, that's what I would do if I had friends. We would sit around and read your lonely blog and correct your English. What? I'm the only one who cares about grammar on the internet? Fine.

BACK TO MY POINT... Which I have yet to make because you distracted me by being here in the first place. This is my very first adult summer. Which means that now I'm a teacher I have my first summer off... no working. I've never had a summer like this before. I'm confused about how to go on with my life.... like... what is the next step? Do I find a friend? What do I do with it? Do I invite it over, are we supposed to talk, watch movies, how often does it eat, am I supposed to be responsible for that? So many unanswered questions!

I actually didn't have a real job last summer, but I spent all summer looking for a real job, finding a place to live, and getting fat. I got fat last summer because I didn't have something to do with my time. So last summer my job was getting fat finding a job. I don't want that again. I'm actually hoping this summer I can find some babysitting jobs. I can't do nothing all summer... I'll get fat again. And spend all my money. So I need something!

This blog isn't about babysitting. So let me tell you! Earlier today when I was obsessing over Pinterest I ran across a summer bucket list. I loved it! I get bored easy, especially now because I spent the entire month of May being SO busy I hardly had time to breathe. I feel lost, and I want to have a fun summer. Not that I think this summer will be boring. I'm in a wedding and have another friends wedding. All of my babies birthdays are this summer, so I'll have to visit them. I'm playing softball. I'll hopefully be going to my Aunt's lake house. And! A hot man is coming to visit me for a week at the end of June to be my wedding date. Yes, I know what you're thinking, Hot? like her level of hotness, or actually hot? Actually hot, my friends, actually hot. And nice. AND! He's willing to be seen with me in public! Score.

Right. Moving on. I was on Pinterest and I found this Summer To Do List. I want to add things to it, but I also want people to help me check it off. So, here is my list :) Call me anytime.

- Go to a Water Park
- Stop at a little kids Lemonade Stand
- Go Boating
- Go to the Movies
- Water Balloon Fight
- Go to an Amusement Park
- Go for a bike ride
- Have a crafting day
- Go to a museum
- Go to the zoo
- Go to a Barbeque
- Play in the sprinkler
- Car Wash
- Plant Flowers
- Catch Fireflies in a jar
- Read 10 books
- Watch fireworks
- Build a sand caslte
- Swing
- Send postcards to friends that live out of state
- Make paper airplanes
- Watch the sunrise
- Go fishing
- Sleep Outside
- Climb a tree
- Blow bubbles
- Family Game Night
- Fly a kite
- Have a picnic
- Run 5 miles
- Play in the dirt
- Have a stay in movie night

The Little Things

Before you even start wasting your time... This isn't a funny post. It's just me being a girl. This was your only warning.

Since I was 17 I've pretty much had my whole wedding planned. I have all of these pictures from magazines cut out and stored in an old shoe box. It seems really silly, but it was Pinterest before Pinterest came around. 

I really do though... And I know exactly where that box is because I recently cleaned my whole house lol. Surprisingly, a lot of my tastes are the same. I want a deep purple and short bridesmaid dresses. Yellow roses and white lillies. I have about a bajillion pictures of rings and dresses. It's slightly obsessive. But what do you really expect from me?

There were a lot of things I forgot that I had dreamed about when I was 17 and boyfriendless (I've mentioned before that I was ugly right? Maybe I'll attach a photo) I'm sappy, but totally awkward when it comes to being romantic. I don't know how to do it, but I want a man that does romantic things. Even just the little things. 

Like holding my hand. I don't always want to be the one reaching for your hand, to me it makes me feel needy. I want to feel needed, it makes me happy when you reach to hold my hand. 

Leaving me little notes. A song or something that reminded you of me. A card in the mail or a letter even. I'm sure if you're that part of my life I'm talking to you every day anyway. But how sweet is a letter seriously? 

Having flowers delivered. I love getting flowers, it's incredibly sweet. When I turned 18 my parents had flowers delivered to me at school. I loved it and it made me feel special and yes I know I shouldn't need flowers blah blah. It doesn't change how I feel. 

Being kissed on the forehead. 

Holding doors. People hold doors open all the time. The feminist in me hates this for some reason, I'm a big girl now, I'm capable... That's stupid. But the 17 year old girl in me loves it. It's almost better than all the other stupid little things I like. I went on a date where this guy held open every door we walked through. Every single door. The date itself was great, but just that sticks out in my mind so much. The other day I was walking to my car and the man I was with held open my drivers side door for me. I had to remind myself to keep walking before he noticed I stopped and looked like an idiot. 

I don't mind feeling like I'm 17 again :)

Barb is Skinny

Because that's how you title all blogs about your friends.

As many of you may know I visited Gallaudet University during Spring Break. I was going to (and will eventually) write a blog about that. But for now, this is the awesomeness of Barbara Farrell.

I remember when I first met Barb. It was in 2009 and I had just transferred to Kent State. I hated it there, and my life, and everything about it. I didn't know a single person, didn't know where anything was. I was a loser. Then in one of my first classes, Deaf Studies, which I actually didn't even NEED to take, we were paired up into groups. Low and behold. Who was in my group but Barbara. I hated her at first because she went to Kent, and I hated anything and anyone associated with it.

We were talking about the book we needed for our class. We needed to get it from Wordsmith's, and of course I had not a single freaking clue where that was. Barb, being the sweet, kind, caring, loving lady that she was, tried to explain it to me.

B- "Do you know where Starbucks is?"
S- "No, I don't know where anything is."
B- "Do you know where Burger King is?"
S- "NO! I just told you I don't know where ANYTHING is!"

Now maybe I could have handled that situation better. But I didn't. And I didn't regret it. Barb offered to pick it up for me and we actually went together.

She was my first friend at Kent.

Throughout the years we've remained really close. Probably because we had no choice. We had a lot of ASL classes together. And I love that Barb is one of my few friends who shares my love of ASL. We were RA's together. We ate together and got fat together. Made fun of people together. Went shopping, watched tv, homework, parties... Ok that last one is a lie, you caught me. We did go to ONE party together. It was fancy and she let me wear her shoes. Zebra print. Hot!

I love Barbara :) she picked me up from the airport when I went to DC, brought me back when I left. Let me stay in her room for 5 days, took me out, of course let me wear her clothes. And the only 2 things she asked from me was A) pump her gas for her because she's from New Jersey and people there don't pump their own gas. And B) write a blog solely about her.

There are just so many things about this person. She makes me laugh all the time, at things most normal human beings with any sense of morals or decency wouldn't laugh at. Barbara always told me, "if you don't laugh, you'll cry" she's right. And we all know I cry too much as it is!

I always use to write her stupid stories or poems in class when I was bored. So I could think of no better way than to end Barb's Blog with a new one.

Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
I am so Awesome
And Barb's better than you. Amen.

My Adventures on Ignoramus Island

As some of you may know, I was kinda sick yesterday. I had a really bad allergic reaction to... something... and I had hives ALL over my body. My hands were swollen, my feet were swollen, my lips, ears and eyelids were all, you guessed it! Swollen! I looked like I walked out of a boxing ring minus all the blood. I felt like it too.

I have gotten hives since I was in the 4th grade... that was 15 years ago. There has never been anything I can remember that triggers it. And quite frankly, it gets really annoying when everyone says "What did you eat yesterday". I understand most people are trying to help, but let's be real friends, do you think I didn't analyze every single thing I've come into contact with?

Alas, this post is not about you, I know you have the best intentions in mind. Next time just don't ask. Also, while I'm on the topic, I've gotten every suggestion under the sun. So you can just hold onto those too. Thanks.

No. Ignoramus Island is all about my adventure yesterday at the Dr's Office.

Now remember, I'm not new to hives. I don't usually go to the Dr. because they are more of an instant thing and many Dr's don't have an open spot when I need it. So I typically head to Urgent Care because they're always taking walk-in's and are open later than your Family Dr.

THIS PLACE! I am saying this is in my most dramatic, fed up, mom-voice. Let me just tell you again. This place was jank! First of all, they don't even open until 9:30 and they close at 5. What a waste of U.C. When I got there at 9:20 there were already 4 cars there. That actually wasn't a big deal.

The big deal was 1. I was sick, 2. I was in pain, 3. I could hardly even hold the pen to fill out my sheet.
I sat in that stupid waiting room watching Maury for TWO HOURS. At 10:33 the front desk nurse called me back and took my payment and said "She'll be with you soon" 45 minutes later, I walked back and asked her when she thought I might be seen. I was trying so hard to be polite and not pushy. I hadn't asked yet, I hadn't even talked to her about anything other than my payment information. She looked at me like you look at a wall during history class. Then she finally got her stuff together, she looked at the chart and said "You're next"

It took another 15 minutes until they called me back. The nurse was super sweet, gentle, and caring. She could obviously see that I was uncomfortable, unable to walk normally, and itchy. Then she walked out and I waited for the Dr. for 20 stupid minutes in that stupid patient room. I had already been there for 2 and a half hours and I had to pee really bad. I could hear the nurses talking outside of my room in their nurses station about their pets, and such. So I opened the door and poked my head out. A pretty blonde nurse was sitting at the computer typing some things up, and the other nurse was sitting there with a chart upside down in her lap not doing anything. I asked them if there was a bathroom I could use. The nurse that was typing answered me and pointed that I could use the one right across the hall.

When I was walking back into my room, the other nurse who wasn't at the computer stood up and followed me into my room. SHE WAS THE DAMN DOCTOR! And excuse me, I'm sorry for cussing. But even now thinking about it my blood is BOILING. I could HEAR her the ENTIRE time I was sitting in that room waiting.

Now. All of that aside, this is really where her stupidity shines. She asked me what was going on and was looking at my chart and my skin. The first words out of her mouth were "I don't really see anything"
NOTHING? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU DON'T REALLY SEE ANYTHING? Do you not see my skin is red and swollen EVERYWHERE? My lips were bruised at that point, and not to mention uneven due to the swelling. I couldn't bend my fingers. My eyelids were SAGGY because of the swelling.

I pointed out the redness and swelling and she says something along the lines of "Yea, I see it's red, but I don't really see any hives" WHAT? Like... lady. Seriously? Have you never seen hives? My fish knew what they were. I don't know who this lady really was, but she was a terrible actor, because there was no way she was actually a Dr. And I'm really not like that. The only ever Dr. I have ever disliked was my dentist, and that was after he tried to put a retainer in my mouth that had never been fitted for me... so he tried to fit me with someone else's mouth piece. Guess what, it didn't fit. Ew.

Off topic. I ended up pulling my pants down right in front of this lady's face because the only place that was dots of hives were in my pelvic area. She wasn't ready for that. I didn't even care. I had to show her a picture of what I really looked like because she couldn't see the puffiness and redness on my eyelids. I asked if I could just get the shot and go home. She didn't have any idea what I was talking about. I tried to explain it, a shot for allergic reactions, cortizone or cortisol? I was unsure of the name, but it's something very similar for patients who have hives. She told me I should go home and eat rice, green beans, and an apple for the next 3 days and start adding 1 thing to my diet every day to see if I could trigger what it was. IRATE-NESS IS STINKING IT!

After all is said and done she walks out of the room and shut the door. She didn't say anything. She didn't tell me if she was coming back, she didn't tell me if she was getting the shot or writing a prescription. She didn't say bye. Nothing. After 15 minutes of listening to her and the other nurse talk about their March Madness brackets, I was irate. I was crying because I was so upset. Over 3 hours in the office, no shot, no help, no one around. I was just crying. I opened the door as the Dr. was walking away. I asked the nice nurse "Can I please go home now?" through my tears. And she said "Yea, honey, your prescription is waiting up front". I didn't say anything, I just walked up front to the dumb desk nurse. At this point I was sobbing and not even trying to hold it back. I announced I wanted to leave, she asked my name and I told her, she handed me 3 papers and I practically ran out of the office.

It was 12:45 and the pharmacy I go to closes at 1 for lunch. I was hoping I could at least make it there in time to put it in before they left. I was still crying my burning tears of anger wishing that I would have told this Dr everything I felt, almost turning around to do so. But I made it to Walmart at 12:54. I tried to dry my tears knowing at this point in my life it didn't even matter because my red eyes and blotchy skin would give me away. I walked up to the drop off counter with dry eyes and the minute the nice guy says "Can I help you?" I started bawling. Right there. In Walmart. I was the Classiest of the classy. I told him I was at the Dr for 3 hours, and what she suggested I eat, that she couldn't even tell I was sick. Just bawling. I think I was probably yelling at him, but he just stood there like any scared man would of a crying woman and listened.

It turned out the pharmacy didn't close until 1:30 for lunch, and I just sat there waiting and crying until it was ready. No, that's not true. I went out to my car and cried it out. For those of you who aren't my boyfriend, you don't realize that when I try not to cry, I just cry harder. So I gave in and sobbed for 20 minutes, walked back into the store, washed my face, and went back over the the pharmacy. I checked out, and they asked if I had any questions. Which of course I did, I didn't even know what this Slug Woman had written out for me. The pharmacist was so kind, he explained everything, and he was very sympathetic. (The guy who put my medications in and made sure they were filled before everyone left for a break also came over to ask if I was doing better. Very sweet.) He pointed out which medications would help my swollen hands, which ones would help the itching, what would make me tired, and how to take the actual medication for the allergy. He was a better Dr in 3 minutes than the Thing at Urgent Care was in 3 hours.

ANYWAY. Today I am feeling much better. I went to school and my kids were so awesome. They did a great job yesterday and were sympathetic today because they knew I still wasn't 100% I didn't have hardly any struggles with them, and I was so thankful to have such great kids all day long!

If you haven't yet seen it, I have added the picture of my lovely self from yesterday. I would like to take this moment to point out some key points in this picture. I'll start at the top. My hands were so swollen I couldn't hold a brush to fix my hair. You can see the splotches of red on my forehead leading down to my eyelids. They are swollen, droopy, and uneven. The bridge of my nose is swollen. My left NOSTRIL is swollen. My right cheek is swollen. My upper lip is swollen weirdly, my bottom lip is almost busted. I swear I cannot believe it didn't bust. And at the bottom, my shoulders are so red and hive-y it's impossible to miss.

And THIS is what that Ignorant Dr 'couldn't really see'

uncool - with no capital letters because that's how uncool it is.

Let’s just take a minute and talk about how cool fishing is.

For those of you who know me (and wish you didn’t, I still don’t know why you waste your time) you know that I really don’t like fishing. I think it’s dumb. Also, I think alive fish are disgusting. The only alive fish I like are in my tank at home… and I do NOT touch them. Their names are Donald and Baby

First, you find yourself a secluded body of dirty, mucky water that you can’t see anything past 3 inches.

Second, you stab a poor little wormy onto the end of a rusty old hook and let him drown. (Also, I know it’s not actually a ‘him’, worms are hermaphrodites, which means they are both male and female and cross fertilize. –I bet you didn’t know how smart I was – but you probably did expect a weirdo like me to put something like that in this blog)

Step 3. You sit and wait. You can’t play in the water because that will scare away the potential fishes. Not that I would anyway because the water is dirty and gross. AND there is a Giant Squid out there somewhere just waiting to kill and eat me.

You can’t be too loud because that will also scare away the fish.

You can’t read or tan because you have to pay attention to the stupid fishing line.

You can’t eat because my general rule of thumb is that your hands are now contaminated with worm goo and if you ingest it you will die. You are only truly clean after you shower.

FINALLY. If you do happen to catch a fish, you can go one of two directions.

1. Grasp your wormy goo hands around the slimy, scaly, hopefully not pokey fish… and throw it back. Which I personally find cruel. You just teased the poor thing with food, stabbed a hole through it’s face, and now…you’re just going to throw it back and leave a deformed fish to go swim around being made fun of by his fish friends for being ugly? Really, you could do that?! What was the whole point of trying to catch him in the first place? For fun? Because we all know that’s not the case.

Or 2. You can eat him. At least the fish didn’t die in vain… It’s little fishy life served a purpose!

Honestly, can I tell you why fishing was probably invented in the first place?

One day there was a man who hated his life so much he would rather watch air blow than go home.

The End. Amen.

GameStop: The Smell of Loser and Shame

Let’s talk about boys here for a little bit.  In what world is it sensible to get rid of some of the things you used to play with to get new things that cost more? Oh, yea… the GameStop world. How many countless times have I seen boys sell their precious games that they just HAD to buy to get a couple bucks to buy the new game that just came out? Here’s what gets me for real. They may get $30 back for 3 games, just to buy 1 new game that costs $60. AND THEY THINK IT’S A DEAL!

Nerd Boy “Yea, I went to GS and I sold back a couple games so I could get the new God of War”

Dumb Girl “Oh that’s cool, so do you like get it for free?” (And yes, I said that like a teenager)

Nerd Boy “No, I got $30 for the old games and the new one was about $60… so it’s like half off!”

NO! No, it is not like half off…. Here’s what actually happened. You no longer have 3 things you used to have, and still had to pay for this one new thing that all you’re going to do in 6 months is try to sell it back again.

The last time I walked into GameStop I was overpowered with this abysmal odor that clung to me like nerds were all clinging to their newly found friends. And by ‘friends’, of course I mean Black Ops II. It was repellant!

Now, I would never choose to go into a GameStop on my own. I’ve been there a couple times with others, but I buy my games from Target, where it’s a little more expected that you shower before leaving your cave. But this time I was on a date and Michael really wanted to see if they had… something… Lord knows I don’t remember, nor do I care, what it was.

It was packed. And I’m not kidding you when I say it smelled like “loser and shame”. I know the smell well. I have a brother and a boyfriend, both of whom have spent hours on end sitting Indian style on the floor in front of the T.V. playing some stupid game. How recent they’ve acquired the game is absolutely proportional to how long they will sit in front of the T.V. The first day of the game is hours upon hours of holding your pee until you absolutely can’t hold it anymore, running to the kitchen to throw some chicken tenders in the microwave so they can heat up while you’re in the bathroom. Staying up all night, ignoring your phone, your family, your girlfriends, until you realize you have to be up in 3 hours so maybe you need some sleep. The second day, you wake up late, don’t shower, run to class, get sweaty, come home, re-heat the chicken tenders and play until you go cross eyed.

Eventually, you come back to normal life, the game isn’t as important… but your butt prints are still in the carpet and you can still faintly smell the shame seeping out over the air fresheners your mom bought you.

Don’t get me wrong, I love all my boys very much. I bought my brother Black Ops II when it came out, and it’s not always even boys. My best friend, Kristen, is an avid gamer. But she doesn’t smell bad when she plays too long.

Please, if you ever wonder how serious I’m being… go to your nearest GameStop and just walk in for a minute. Take a breath (not a deep one, we don’t want you to choke) and just observe what is going on around you. You’ll understand.

Bleh! I get chills just thinking about it!

Pimp Nuggets

I say a lot of weird things. I am usually unaware of it, but sometimes it catches my attention. No wait, that's a lie. I'm always aware of it... Sometimes, though, I do say things that I don't realize are weird.

I decided to make a short list of my weird words and phrases to share with you, my ever loving weirdos.

Poop - I know that this actually isn't that weird of a word, but I use it weirdly often. As in almost hourly.

Poop nuggets

Nuggets - in general when talking about people or things is a little strange. I call children nuggets

Gol durdle - in place of gosh darnit! Actually, my whole family uses this phrase with the exception of my dad because he's too cool to be weird. So... My sister and I do this thing where we talk like toddlers and one day she was standing at the fridge and for some reason she was frustrated. I don't remember why... But she struggled to get out the words and out popped Gol Durdle. We both laughed and she tried again and it came out a second time.

As I sit here laughing to myself I realize that it may not be as funny to you. And to that I say poop on you!

Mother- This is one of those words that I can use at nearly any time. As a description: That hurt like a mother! As an exclamation: Oh mother!

Mother Humper- just an extension of mother really. That hurt like a mother humper.

I'm sure there are more that I really can't think of at the moment. And I don't know how to end this post.

Goodbye

Fatty fat fat

It's been too long since I posted and I apologize to you... My dear friend. Why, only friend? As in one, surely there must be more than one person reading this. No, no. I assure you. There isn't. I actually wasn't even talking to you, I was talking to my Internet... Actually if we're going to be specific I was talking to my phone.

I'm blogging on my phone in the sauna. Mostly because I'm that cool. But partly because I'm at the gym. I'm desperately trying to turn this prepubescent boys body into a woman's body before April.

As some of you may know, in April I will be turning 25 :( I don't know how to handle it. All of my life plans are about to be seriously down the drain.

I was supposed to graduate college 2 years ago - bust. It only happened 8 months ago

I was supposed to get a job right after that - surprise! That was the only part that was successful

I was supposed to be married at 24 - bust. But don't worry, all of my friends are making good on this part

I was supposed to have a baby at 25 - bust! Gol Durdle! Now, you'll have to forgive me. I never cuss in writing, it was something my wise mother taught me. But I'm just so upset. I'm a faiiiluuure! (Please imagine me saying that with my hand upon my forehead in a dramatic tone)

Anyway. All of my life failures isn't really what this post is about. This post is about being fat.

About 2 years ago I lost 20 pounds. Between this summer and fall I put 15 of that back on :( I was a piece of poop this summer. I didn't ever exercise, I ate like a man, and I generally was just lazy. When I say 'eat like a man' I like to compare myself to the men in my life... Namely my dad and my brother who are just garbage disposals. If its on your plate you eat it, you eat everything. You aren't picky, you probably don't even know what it's called, you just devour! This is especially true for my brother, I've seen him eat 2/3 of an entire dish of chicken tetrazzini, I wasn't far behind that either. Which is why I got fat.

Now that's another thing. I hate when I say things like 'I got fat' and people come back with 'you're not fat'. Shut up. Did I ask you to compliment me? No. I didn't. The only person I do that for is my boyfriend and most of the time I actually walk him through it
"Now tell me I'm pretty"
"You're so pretty"
"And tell me I'm smart"
"The smartest girlfriend ever"

Did I say "tell me I'm not fat"...?

Um... Uh... Nope. I don't mean turn around an tell me I'm a cow or anything. I just mean that when I say something like that I really am just saying words and I'm not fishing for compliments.

So I happened to gain weight, I prefer to shorten that with 'got fat'. It's not like I got skinnier either, it's definitely noticeable. I'm 5'2 for crying out loud... You notice fatness when it's there. So by telling me you didn't notice or you can't tell... Ha! Please! Don't make it such a joke. I'm just trying to have conversation.

This is also why I never tell people who say 'I'm fat' that they aren't. It's either they are looking for a compliment which I'm not going to give, or they're like me and they aren't sugar coating anything (although I would eat sugar coated anything at the moment).

One more thing! I hate when people try to give me advice. Look, I lost 20 pounds once before and I kept it off for a pretty good while. When was the last time YOU lost that much weight? Probably never. It's stupid annoying. I rarely ask for advice as it is... I know myself, I know my body, I know my own wants and needs... Please don't try to tell me what you think might work , instead how about you try going away. Great thanks.

On my final note I would like to add a picture of me right after I left the sauna. Anyone who knows me knows that I just don't freaking sweat. Here is a picture after sitting in that hot box for 12 minutes.

Someone please use it as a cover photo on a dating website.

Feeeelings

The Best Feeling in the World

Do you wanna know one of the best feelings in the whole world? Taking your eyelashes off after a long day of being pretty. What? I’m the only one who wears fake eyelashes? It’s really not that I need them, I have fairly long eyelashes as it is… I wear them because it’s fun and I think they make my eyes look more dynamic.

Then that got me thinking about what some of the best feelings in the world are.

And I’m talking about physical feelings, not the mushy gushy lovey feelings you get when your boyfriend tells you you’re pretty.

So, I’ve compiled a list of the top 10 best feelings in the world!

1. Finally getting a chance to eat or drink something when you’re dying of hunger or thirst

2. Going pee when you’ve been holding it all freaking day!

3. Taking your bra off

4. Taking all of your clothes off when you get home from work and you look snazzy all day just to come home and put on your brothers sweatpants and your boyfriends hoodie

5. Putting your hair up when it’s been down all day, or taking your hair down when it’s been up all day

6. Taking off your high heels

7. Laying down in a freshly made bed

8. Washing your face with cool water when you’re all sweaty

9. Taking a shower after a really good work out

10. Jumping in a pool and your hair flows around like a mermaid

Maybe some of these don’t apply to you, or maybe you don’t really agree with some of my list. Let me just tell you this. I don’t care, go away, you shouldn’t be reading this anyway!

Christmas Sweaters

Hello my loser friends. Why are you back? Just kidding, I know why :) You’re all so fascinated with how much of a loser that I actually am, that you stopped by to see if I was just putting on a show or if I really am just this incredibly weird.

I assure you, long, lost, internet friends, that I am STILL weird.

In fact, this week is our last week before Christmas Break starts. I have made the decision to wear ugly sweaters every day.

You have that many ugly sweaters?! I know that’s exactly what ran through your mind. And the answer is yes, I do. Thank you very much. Although, I didn’t. I went out thrifting over the weekend and bought these!

Wait? So, you didn’t have any, and you went out and bought an entire weeks worth of ugly sweaters?

Shut up. Yes. I did. I wanted to be cool ok. I’ve never had a reason to have an ugly sweater before. My grandparents don’t give them to me because they’re more fashionable than I am. I’ve never even been to an ugly sweater party before.

Everybody goes to those! Weren’t you in college for like 10 years? You were never invited to an ugly sweater party?! I was right, you really are a loser.

NO, OK! I was never invited to an ugly sweater party. And I wasn’t in college for 10 years, it was only 6, and I graduated with honors. Wait…. That’s not cool either is it :(

ANYWAY! Now that you’re done picking on me for not having friends in college…

The best part about the sweaters are the compliments I get (and naming the cats, but let me get to that in a minute)

Most people walk by and are like “Hey… oh… your sweater is… nice” Those are the kind people who don’t really know what to say because they don’t want to insult me. They’re not sure if I’m trying to get laughs or if I really enjoy wearing these things. But, they’re trying to be nice because they know in their hearts that every student is talking about that weird sign language teacher.

I usually try to fit in somewhere that I’m wearing ugly sweaters all week and I know I look ridiculous. It’s ok to laugh at them. However, I’m weird when I talk to people, I make weird faces and I’m really awkward. So I don’t think my explanations actually go over well. They’re too busy thinking in their own heads ‘Must leave. Weird girl. Hurry… hurry!’

THEN! There are the sweet older women that work here. This is day #3 of Ugly Sweater Week and each day I’ve gotten “OH, that is SO cute!” “Aw, I really adore that sweater” “How sweet do you look today”

These women are so loving and grandmotherly that I can’t bear to tell them it’s a joke. So, I smile and say thank you and walk away wondering how long it will take me until I become the old woman that enjoys holiday printed fleece.

Anyway… enough about my week, let me just show you the pictures! Also, I want you to know that I didn’t want to ruin any of the photos by smiling. I conveniently added awesome teenage girl poses into my work.

Thank you and Merry Christmas!

Monday-Christmas Cats

Tuesday- Snowmen

Wednesday-Snowflakes

Thursday- 12 year old boy sweater

Friday- band sweater

The Boyfriend

I was recently having a conversation with my boyfriend (I know you’re thinking “What! She has a boyfriend? Seriously? Poor Soul”)  about why so many people are reading my blog. Look. Stop it. He asked me why I was upset about it? The dialogue when a little like this.

“I don’t want people to read it because I’m weird. This blog isn’t actually for people to read, it’s for me to be weird and let out my weird frustrations that only you and my mom read because you already know how weird I am!”

Bald Man- “Then how are you going to have your own movie?”

“I’m not making it into a movie! I’m going to make it into a book and then an Audio book that I read in my own voice like Tina Fey and Ellen do, and then be on Saturday Night Live because that’s what you do when you’re in the big leagues!”

And of course he laughs at me when I say big leagues… but he obviously doesn’t know! It’s the truth. Then I brought up if it were a movie I’d have to cast someone for him

“I’d have to cast that dude for you and that wouldn’t look right as Hayden Panettiere playing me and this old dude being you.”

Bald Man “Jason Stathem?” And of course I had to ask him just now who it was because I don’t even know who this dude is.

“Yea sure whatever, he’s old. I’d rather have Bruce Willis play you but he’s even older. It would be a weird looking  couple.” I said exasperated about deciding why I’m not actually dating an older man.

Bald Man “yea but Jason Stathem didn’t look as old 10 years ago.”

“NEITHER DID BRUCE…. LEE! I DON’T KNOW WHY I CAN’T REMEMBER THAT HIS NAME IS BRUCE WILLIS AND BRUCE LEE IS ALL THAT’S COMING TO MY HEAD” I shouted at him

Bald Man “Bruce Willis wasn’t bald 10 years ago.

“What? Yes he was! I’ll go look it up right now.” So I go search up on Imdb.com to find Bruce Willis

“Ok… so now it’s 2012… so in… Nineteen nineeetyyy tw…”

Bald man “2002!”

“Yes, exactly, that’s what I was saying. He was bald in the 6^th Sense.”

Bald Man “I didn’t see that movie so it doesn’t count.”

“…….”

“Ok… Here we go. 2000. Unbreakable. BALD!”

“oh… well.. did he have a goatee?”

“No! BUT HE COULD GROW ONE!” again with the random yelling, like he wouldn’t have gotten the point without me yelling at him.

Bald Man “and he could shave his head!”

I don’t think I even responded to this because it didn’t seem to make any sense to me. But it stuck.

“I think he looks more like you than the other dude anyway. (Again, I’ve still forgotten his name. I could go back to look it up, but I won’t) You have the same shape head…”

Bald Man “ARE YOU SAYING I HAVE A FAT HEAD?”

“… and the slanty eyes and the thin upper lip. And yes, you do have a fat head. Get over yourself. His ears are bigger than yours.”

Bald Man “Are you kidding?! My ears are huge!” I don’t actually think huge is the word he used, but I can’t remember now. It’s been a good 10 minutes since this conversation took place. I’m growing forgetful in my old age.

“Ok? Fine then… (as I’m looking at him on Skype and wondering what he is talking about) Your ears are about as big as a helipad.”

He just laughed at me again.

“See… now this is blog material.”

Bald Man “Our conversation? You should write it.”

“No… because it’s late and I’m not going to remember what we talked about and I’m talking to you and that would mean that I would have to type it all up tonight because then I’ll forget it all and it’s just too hard.”

Bald Man “Well I’m going to play Assassins Creed, so go write your blog.”

“Ok!”

Alright… so I might be the easiest person in the world to convince to do things. OBVIOUSLY, this conversation didn’t mean as much to him as it meant to me. I don’t think he really understands that this blog could make or break my famousness. I NEED this! And what does he do? Goes and plays video games as I’m trying to plan for the rest of my life.

Now that you know… I don’t really know what you know… He’s as weird as me? He handles my weirdness well… He’s a poor sucker and I love him…. Whatever it is that you know, you know it, and you know all of it. Now go to bed. It’s late.