Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda...

Today was a sucky day. And so to distract myself at work, I did this*. And now you get to read it.

I Can't:
*Wear hats. Of any kind. *Walk in high heels. *Function well before 10:00 am. *Stop buying Oreos (Have you ever tried freezing them? AWESOME.). *Wakeboard or waterski (Again, I blame the knees.). Wait for the new Harry Potter movie.

I Can:
*Juggle. *BS my way through anything. *Read a book in less than a day. *Read 4 books in less than a week. *Pick out the perfect purse for the BFF everytime! (That's it, though. She's too picky about everything else.) *Harldy wait to go to my cabin this weekend.

I Will:
*NEVER like beer. *Dance anywhere, anytime if the song is a good one. *Get along with anyone. (That doesn't mean I like everyone.) *Never understand why people love to go running. *Buy a new purse every three months or so.

I Won't:
*Ever like mushrooms. *Let myself get stuck in the world of retail. *Ever want to stop traveling. *Always be so indecisive. *Apologize for being obsessed with TSwift. *Tell your secrets, if you make it clear that you don't want anyone to know.

I Shouldn't:
*Shop at Target so much. *Bite my nails when I get nervous. *Spend so much time on my Blackberry. *Drive with my knees as much as I do. *Text when I'm drunk.

I Should:
*Move somewhere new. *Get a sleep study done. *Never feel guilty for wanting to be alone. *Get a tetanus shot. *Learn how to read slower.

Sorry if that bored you. It bored me as I typed it. You should try watching Weeds. It is single-handedly one of the greatest shows of all time. I have to go buy season 3 now, so Peace Out.

*Borrowed from Here.


Age is a funny thing. People still think I'm in high school and that my younger sister is actually the older one. When people ask, my first instinct is to tell them that I'm 21. Truth be told, I'm 25, but does it count if I don't really feel 25? I'd like to think it doesn't, and I think my grandma would agree (she's been celebrating her 49th birthday for the last 15 years.)

I don't really know what any of that has to do with anything, but Triple K celebrated his 21st birthday Wednesday night/Thursday morning. It was your typical shit show, complete with crazy shots, a little bit of drama, and the required puking session. I gotta give it to the kid, though, because I have never seen anyone chug an AMF in three seconds flat. Even the bartender at The Cactus was impressed, which has to be hard to do.

21st birthdays are awesome. All birthdays are awesome, just for the fact that you get presents and free drinks and even free hot dogs, but the 21st is special. Its the one night you can pretty much get away with anything, give or take murder and robbing a convenience store.

I celebrated my 21st with my family in Idaho Falls. Needless to say, it wasn't so crazy. But I think I've made up for it by helping all my other friends celebrate theirs and celebrate it right. Here's a few of my favorite memories:

-Dancing with Erin at The Balcony, and watching her watch the man with the assless chaps.
-Not actually going out with The Roommate on her 21st (not exactly a good memory, but still kind of funny!).
-Singing karaoke with the cheer king and trying to prevent his death as he supermanned down the escalator head first.
-BKamps laying on the ground outside of Hannah's because her feet hurt and she just wanted to take a nap.
-Taking shots of whiskey with my sister and her boss.
-The kid in Denver who had to be surrounded by 8 of his friends so he wouldn't run back and forth in the train. Naked.

Like I said, you can get away with anything on your 21st. Maybe I should try and celebrate mine all over again. I'm sure I could get away with it.

A letter...

Dear left knee,

Really? You were so good for so long. We're talking at least 8 years! And then one wrong move and Mr. Knee Joint decides to take a little roll out of its home. WHAT WAS WRONG WITH YOUR HOME? I get the whole "exploring the real world" thing, but I have taken you to some pretty awesome places. And it's not like we're going to be done anytime soon.

And the real world isn't the nicest place. It's tough.

But no. Out you rolled and down I went. At least when my right knee joint rolled out, it didn't make me want to pass out. What the hell? And right in the middle of work, too. Not that I really minded that. It gave me an excuse to sit in my office some more.

So like I told you, the real world isn't all it's cracked up to be. You must have found out quickly, as you rolled back into your home real quick. Doesn't matter, though, because my knee still hurts. Like, a lot. And I look like a big dumbass, limping around everywhere. Add the fact that I get to wear my sweet knee brace for the next little while, and my dorkiness is complete.

Don't think you're getting out of this with just this letter. Oh no. Now we get to visit a physical therapist. Who will make you work. Hard. And if it doesn't get better, we get to have surgery again. Something I tried reeeeaaaallllyyyy hard to avoid. The first time was enough. It only took a good 6 months for me to walk normally again. Running? Don't even think about it. A second knee surgery and I will have to get a scooter to scooter me around. Which might be kind of awesome. But not awesome enough to forgive you.

Seriously. Thanks a lot-

The rest of your body

Friends Forever**...


This just seriously made my night. Maybe even my year. I will be watching when the reunion actually happens. I might even have a Saved By The Bell-themed party. You know you all want to come.



*Please excuse my rudimentary clip-posting techniques. My computer from the year 2000 just isn't quite cutting in these days.

**Anyone remember the name of the gang's sweet band that sang "Friends Forever?" I do. I just want to see if anyone else is as cool as I am.

I don't wanna grow up...

I don't think I want to grow up. Ever.

Sunday, The Artist had a 'Dynomite' birthday party for DAD, complete with a prehistoric cake with a volcano. Of course I didn't bring my camera, so you will just have to imagine it. As is the norm these days, I was the only adult present that didn't have at least one child or child-t0-be at the party. And here's what I realized:

I will always be more comfortable at the kids' table.

I know some people HATE the kids' table, suffer from nightmares about the kids' table, and can't wait until they are finally allowed to escape the kids' table. I am not one of those people. And the reason is a simple one.

Kids, for the most part, are entirely free of judgement*.

For example: Let's talk about the two year olds I hung out with on Sunday. By the end of the party, there were at least two tantrums, three sets of hands and faces smeared with green frosting, and two extremely questionable smells eminating from their vicinity. Did it bother any of them at all? No. They were just as happy to share their Capri Sun or their crayon with whoever wanted it.

Grown ups? Not the case. Judgement comes into play in virtually every situation we're in. The smelly person on the subway/bus/trolley? No one wants to really sit by him. The woman with spaghetti sauce on her shirt? Soon to be the next nomination on What Not to Wear. But really? How do either of those things tell us anything about the actual person?

In elementary school, we're taught to not judge a book by it's cover. And then we hit junior high and high school. And the judgement begins. If you don't wear the right brand of jeans, or go to the right church, or drink and do drugs on the weekend, you're not cool, not good enough.

And then we go to college. And we experience the real world, one that's made up of people polarly opposite of ourselves. We experience new things and change the way we think and question everything we've been taught. And judgement kind of takes a back seat.

But once we graduate, once we enter the real world, it comes back full force. We judge others on everything. The job they have, the school they went to, where they live, their past relationships, where they shop and the shoes they wear. And it just kind of sucks.

And so, I'm going to sit at the kids' table forever. That way I can spill anything and everything on myself whenever I want. I can drink vodka instead of beer. And I can eat cake and play with dinosaurs everyday if I choose.

Anyone else want to join me?

*Don't think that the adults at the party were judgemental. The opposite is true, in fact. The whole party was really one big kid's table. And yes, I did manage to spill cake and green frosting all over myself. What else is new?

Let's go have a beeeeh...

It's been a while since I've posted any pictures on this ole' blog here. Mostly because my camera has been hiding from me. I found it in time for the Taylor Swift concert, but then PIC put the wrong batteries in. Have no fear, though, because I got my shit together in time for the trip to Boston. And so, for your viewing pleasure. I present the following:

There are a shit-ton of pictures and I am too lazy to write captions for them all. So here's a few things you might need to know. It will be a fun game for you to guess which facts relate to which pictures! And......Go! (P.S. Blogger is lame and so the pictures are all posted backwards.)

*The sister worked at an organic farm while in college, which had absolutely nothing to do with her degrees, but fit her to a T!
*The white chicken and I had a staring contest. The chicken won.
*The farm just recently received a grant for the first-ever Humaneur Compost Toilet. I did not take a picture of the future site, but I thought you all should know.
*We went on a duck tour. And had a guide named Garribaldi. He was bald.
*Hillary Clinton did not speak at the commencement. But she was there in spirit. And in cardboard form.
*The Wellesley campus is gorgeous. Boise has no rightful claim to being the City of Trees. However, it is home to the Circle of Trust, so it can still claim the initials C.O.T.
*Harry Potter would approve. The grandpa is standing by Platform 9 and 3/4. Guess where the hidden stairs are!
*Wellesley girls like to wear hats. So do we.
*One of the pictures features a scene from The Departed. Unfortunately, Matt, Leo or Matt was not anywere near.

Other helpful tidbits, not related to the pics:
*The Minnesota airport is a pain in my ass. Always wear running shoes when flying through.
*Just because nothing has ever been stolen from your checked luggage in the 18 years since you first started traveling does not mean that it won't happen on your final flight home from college.
*Bostonians really love to run. And drink. And then run to burn the calories from drinking.