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I am not a quote to memorize and repeat in metered rhyme to backseat viewers whom are only half-paying attention to your unsettled performance. I am an entire book full of climaxes and drops and lulls—long, boring lulls— in action, not a collection of sentences that are high-intensity passion and diction. I am my own protagonist AND antagonist, hero and villain. I am yet-unnumbered pages, bound and threaded together in thick, heavy leather and filled with tragedy, joy, hope, and love. The minute I noticed your pen, red and bleeding into my pages, annotating the parts that you find most fascinating, I began to re-write our plot-line.

You won’t take my best parts and wrap them in your anthology of broken hearts. 

re: heartache

What do you do when the person you love no longer loves you?

You move on. That’s all you can do. 

sweater weather

to a best friend on her 21st birthday

Supposed to be writing a term paper but whatever this is more important right now. And since I haven’t updated in like…three weeks (?), I figured I could waste another few minutes and write something about a special girl in my life. 

Dear Rachel, 

You’ve pretty much always been too cool for me but you ignore that and hang out with me anyway. Remember when I showed up on my first day in Zeeland wearing matching purple tie-dye jumpsuits with my sister? (Chels- you will never let me live this one down. And I love you for that.) I’m still pretty confused as to how anyone would ever be my friend after that but a few weeks later, there I was, sleeping on the floor in your living room with 12 other girls after your mom taught us all how to sew. We were girl scouts together. That’s an unbreakable bond. 

A few years later, we faced middle school. And god. Are there years more awkward than grades 6-8? Probably not. That year, I was the nerd with bendy glasses (uncoordinated since birth), I had to wear an ankle brace 24/7, and my bright pink “PREP” t-shirt was my favorite possession. AND STILL. You, of blindingly-white teeth (shout-out to Dr. Rebhan, DDS) and athletic prowess and the voice of an angel, were still my friend. Me. WHY. 

Enter high school. By ninth grade, we were best friends. We had down a routine: lunches together in the cafeteria, movie nights with other girlfriends, Thursday night youth group, Friday night football games. Your sixteenth birthday was just about the coolest thing in the world and even though things got pretty weird, it was a night none of us will ever forget. Wink. And lord knows how many times I’ve raided your closet. 

We’re kinda old now. We have real responsibilities beyond making it to NHS meetings in time to get the good donuts. You’re two and half hours away, and despite the fact that we talk only once a month, I still have so much love for you. 

You are a beautiful, strong, incredibly talented woman. You bring me, and others, so much joy just from simply being there. It makes me so happy to visit you, and see all the wonderful people you have surrounded yourself with these past three years. They are such an affirmation of your goodness and the happiness you bring to others. And I am so proud of the woman you’re becoming, and the woman you are today. 

You turn 21 in less than three hours now. I can barely believe that the Rach I’ve known since fourth grade will be freaking LEGAL. I am SO excited to celebrate with you. 

Happy birthday, Rach. I love you. 


“Whatever you have in your hand, whether it is a book of the heart of your lover— you have to understand what is there. You may not get it completely at first, but at least be aware of what you are holding.” 

-Professore Vincenzo Binetti, 11/12/2012 

in the name of procrastination.

Okay real quick just gotta say this because I have a 2,500-4,000 word lit review to write (about what? idk. shit.) and i have another ailment (I can sound smart, see?) so I have to beat the cold medicine’s haze before crazy sets in. 

I was watching a “Kay Jewelers” commercial tonight because a) it was Christmas-y and whenever I see something involving anything green, red or mistletoe, I go completely mute/frozen and stare open-mouthed at the cinnamon-scented, jingle bell-filled wonder that is everything yuletide AND b) because my alternative was writing this goddamn essay. 

So I’m watching this commercial and the guy is old and he gives his wife a necklace and she takes it and HER HANDS. HER HANDS, GUYS. They’re wrinkly and you can see her veins and it hits me— we’re getting older. Youth like this— skin that doesn’t sag or lose its glow, freckles instead of brown age spots, hair that resolutely grows despite all the shit I put it through— it’s all fleeting. I’m 20 years old and a Kay commercial has brought on a partial existential crisis but, whatever, I’m gonna feel it. 

We are young and even though I keep coughing like I’ve got emphysema, I’m still more alive than most so I’m gonna let myself get super psyched up to be me. 

Insert every generic thing about life being too short, be with people who make you happy, love is all we got platitudes here. 

And now excuse me while I pause life and write this paper and then sleep and then go to class then work then more paper and, guys, I promise, i’ll live for real eventually. I swear. 

How to Survive Flu Season

So I wrote everything below and then went back thinking I was going to do an introduction, and then realized that I AM sick with the flu and I’ve been sick three times in the past two months (cold, strep, flu) and now I’m thinking that none of you should actually take this advice because I’m clearly doing something wrong. BUT these are good rules to follow if you’re already sick and/or have a shit-to-none immune system like my own! 

Enjoy! Stay healthy! 

1) THE MOST IMPORTANT RULE IN THE BOOK: When your mom says to go get a flu shot, go get a flu shot. Otherwise you wind up sick and stuck in bed with the goddamn flu and you feel like poop and you can’t go have fun or even move because everything hurts too much. 

2) SVU marathons are like chicken soup for the sick soul. You can’t watch too much Benson and Stabler, EVER. Your dreams might be messed up for a while but, hey, the fevers would’ve done that anyway!

3) People don’t wanna cuddle with sicklings. Invest in a body pillow, like, two years ago. Cuddle the shit out of that thing. 

4) Pity tweet until people bring you soup and other sickling goodies (magazines, tea, etc.). Examples from my tweet deck currently include: 

     I feel like poop. Help.

     Aaaandd in bed until I can move again. 

Those are within 30 minutes of each other. Sending the next out in fifteen and still waiting for some unsuspecting sucker to bite. I love empathy!

5) Copious amounts of fluids are of the utmost importance. I’m talking tea with honey, gatorade, 7Up, and, most importantly, water water water. 

6) Feel the theraflu buzz. Love the theraflu buzz. 

7) Don’t be a dumbass during flu season. Take vitamins (D, B, echinacea, zinc, iron, calcium, all that shit that boosts your immune system), don’t share drinks, and keep the DFMOs to a minimum. Get a lot of rest, eat well, and exercise to keep your body strong and ready for the barrage of germs that attack it every time you walk into a lecture hall. Avoid touching elevator buttons, railings, and shaking hands with the man who coughed into his palm five minutes prior. You might have to play the part of a germaphobe, but at least you’ll be the only one not sniffling when you take your next exam. 

8) Heating pads and Advil make for great pain-reducers, but make friends with someone with strong hands for an even better way to fight through those sore neck and shoulders. Any takers? 

Okay I’m gonna sink into a NyQuil induced sleep/haze now. Night, tumblr. 

Why I Am Pro-Life

Why I Am Pro-Life

“…and there is no way that respect for the sanctity of life can mean we are obligated to protect every fertilized egg in a woman’s body, no matter how that egg got fertilized, but we are not obligated to protect every living person from being shot with a concealed automatic weapon. “

Friedman, pardon the pun, kills it. 

For when the rain comes tomorrow. 


Since I Fell For You // Vince Guaraldi Trio 

re: bow chicka wow wow

I’m bad at answering questions sometimes and this one has been in my inbox for at least a month and a half. I finally got around to it this week. If your name is Mike or Michelle and you lived with me for 17 years, please do not read this article. Seriously, I’m saving you here. Just skip right on ahead. The rest of you? Enjoy. 

If you’re with someone who’s better looking than you, how do you maintain a positive body image? Also, I guess the same question can be asked if you’re with someone who’s more experienced than you…how do you stay confident and sexy? 

Wear cute underwear?

Kidding. Kinda. All jokes aside, I’ve been here. And the best advice that I can give you is simple: have fun. But don’t take my word for it. Listen to the dudes that I surveyed online instead.

I posted a link a few days ago asking sexually active males to respond to a quick survey for a blog post. I posted to facebook, twitter and tumblr around 11 pm and had 19 hits by the next morning. I took the survey down at that point for fear of trolls messing with me (overall, I only had two answers that were insincere) and have been going through the responses since Tuesday.

Collectively, these men are a lot less worried with your slightly-larger-than-last-year thighs and your lack of experience as they are with the way your boobs look and, I’m going to try to make this as least-crude as possible, “busting” early.

That’s not to say that attraction isn’t a big part of sex—it’s huge. The initial cues you receive from someone (and they from you) will make or break the potential you’ve got to, ahem, bang like the horny teenagers I know you are.

Experience is largely insignificant as well, according to my 19 men. While some expressed that they wanted only “sluts” or “whores” for easier access, most claimed that they didn’t care about how many guys with which a girl had done the deed. They weren’t interested in women who had high numbers, but also weren’t overly thrilled about bonking girls with V cards (due only to the assumed intimacy taking someone’s virginity creates in today’s society. I’ll save you all from a rant on the social construction of virginity so you’re welcome.). Regardless, there are exceptions. And the biggest one? Willingness to have fun in bed (and a lack of STDs).

So this comes back to you, anon. If you’re open to enjoying sex as an experience rather than an opportunity to (pardon the pun) screw up, you’ll have a satisfying experience along with your partner. Spend every tantalizing second worrying about the way your face is looking when something feels good, how you’re supposed to have sex standing up (any 30 Rock fans out there?), or if your partner is enjoying his view. If he’s hittin’ that, chances are that he’s enjoying it as well.

I’ll leave you with the words of a respondent that I thought would be pretty influential for a question like yours.

Women should NEVER think that the man she is with in bed is under the assumption that he is more attractive than her. In bed, I don’t care who you are, you are the most attractive person on this earth and so is the person you are having sex with. Chances are, if a man is in bed with you, he thinks you’re damn fine and you better believe it. 

So there, anon. You hear me? Work what you’ve got, have fun, and he will too. The best sex comes from willingness to put yourself out there, good communication, and at least one person who knows what they’re doing. The rest will come with it.

 Happy shagging!