Tuesday, June 28, 2011


I was a little apprehensive about the three of us hanging out, but I'm so glad it happened. I was worried that there would be jealousy issues, or that I would feel like the 3rd wheel, or that we wouldn't have anything to talk about.

But honestly, it was the best night I've had in the longest time. It felt good to be around genuinely nice, fun people. It felt good to set the ham plant aflame and throw it into the Atlantic. It felt good to smoke and laugh for hours about Hamlet 2/feeling like Mr. Ed. It felt good to really connect and trust another female.

And then, the sun started to rise. We walked outside and the ocean was right there. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. It felt like a dream.

As we walked back inside, I realized something: I am happy. I don't know where I am, or where I'm going. I don't know what the future holds. But I know that there are oceans and group hugs and acceptance and new friends and late nights and Jeopardy. And as long as those things exist, there is nothing to regret.

Monday, June 27, 2011

One thing that has changed for the better since the apocalypse is that I'm putting myself out there a lot more. I've been making plans with people, trying to build new friendships and strengthen neglected ones.

I put everything into that relationship. I realize now how dangerous that is. If nothing else, this has been a much needed learning experience. When you put all of your expectations and desires onto one person/one relationship, happiness is simply impossible.

I've been doing things that I haven't really done in over a year--reading, spending more time with my family, writing--and it feels really good.

I'm not going to sit here and say I'm not still heartbroken, or that I don't wish I could fix things. It's definitely been a wake-up call.

I do wish I'd realized how important it is to maintain a separate identity much earlier. But it is what it is.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

A few weeks ago, I missed a call while I was at work. When I got out, I called the number back. It said the number could not be reached directly. It also said something about the state of RI Howard Complex. I kept meaning to look it up, but I forgot about it until just now. I thought maybe it was someone calling about a case worker position I applied for a while ago on the state of RI website.

Apparently it's part of the department of corrections. Who on EARTH would be calling me from jail?! Hopefully it was a wrong number or something. I'm kind of spooked.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Icing on the cake

What a glorious end to an utterly FLAWLESS week. I'm not sure what unforgivable things I've done to make the gods loathe me, but it must have been something horrendous.

I was taking Casey Mae outside to pee. Gram wanted to come, so we made our way down the path. We're at the end of the driveway when Casey suddenly lunges at a dog across from us. As I'm pulling her away from the street, I turn around to see Gram attempting to pull a branch off a tree. I'm about to tell her to stop doing that when I see her stumble backwards. I try to run and catch her, but it's too late. She's on her back. Her head is bleeding profusely. I don't know if she's conscious. I start yelling "GRAM, ARE YOU OK?!" She blinks. I sit her up and run into the house to get my phone. I run back outside, on the phone with my mom, in tears, asking her what to do. She tells me to stay calm and get Gram back in the house. We walk back inside, sit down, and I start wiping all the blood away. I'm crying hysterically, feeling an enormous amount of guilt.

Gram looks up at me, laughs, and simply utters "shit."

Shit indeed, Gram.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

My last post also made me think about this secret from a while ago:

I am not bipolar or schizophrenic or what people traditionally deem "mentally ill," but I am ridden with all sorts of anxiety. I don't think it's true that you can't love someone until you love yourself, but you certainly can't be with someone else until you love yourself.

Instead of wallowing, I need to channel the energy into making changes so that I can love and live with myself. I don't deserve a lot of things, but I at least deserve that.
Dylan and I were talking about how we should just sit in Starbucks and invite people to come talk with us about anything. We started talking about the kinds of people we'd meet, what they'd be like, etc.

And then we both realized that we set ourselves up for failure. WE are the people who create the jails that imprison, the movies that depict love as some sort of magical voodoo witch doctor dream, the advertisements that force us to consume.

We take a situation, and a person, and we write a mental script. We imagine the setting, how we're going to feel, what we're going to say, how the other person is going to respond, how the other person is going to feel. And then, little by little, we find that the other person doesn't quite line up with the working script we've created. In some instances, the person fits their role quite nicely. But usually, there's some level of discrepancy. Sometimes it's small, other times it's enormous. This discrepancy causes things like resentment, anger, annoyance, frustration, despair. No one wins in this situation unless both people have a similar script, and write the same roles, and speak the correct lines. Clearly, this is an impossible situation.

I think it's just human tendency to anticipate events. It would be ridiculous to think that one can stop writing scripts altogether, but maybe it's possible to write them a little more loosely. Or to not feel betrayed when someone strays from the ideal. I don't know.

It's just strange to me, because your perception can influence anything. You see a boy with tattoos sitting across from you in class, and you start writing. You start imagining his life, his dreams, his hobbies. You start thinking about what would be said in a conversation between the two of you. You romanticize this being, not knowing a single thing about him, and start thinking that he fits into this ideal role. You talk to a drunk stranger on the street, and you romanticize the conversation. You read meaning where there maybe wasn't. You see this person injected into your life somewhere, being crazy, saying beautiful things. And then you start building them up. Some of us may do this more than others, but I think it happens to all of us in varying degrees.

When I think about relationships this way, I feel sick. But then I consider what it would be like if there were no expectations or ideals. It's not clear to me which is better. At the same time, the ability to romanticize events is what makes the world beautiful. When a photographer takes a photo, many things are manipulated. Photographs rarely look like what someone saw with their own two eyes. Rather, it was an artistic representation of reality. A substitute. But if we looked a photo and simply said "this is a substitute for what really happened, this is not exactly how the world looked at this moment," there's not really any emotion or beauty to be found. There's no guesswork.

I guess what I'm trying to figure out is this: how much of what we feel and experience is reality and how much is perception? There are real, concrete events. Take, for instance, the memory I have of Jared and I riding a dolphin watch boat. Dolphins surfaced, families took photographs together, the sun was setting, and a boy was constantly talking to the captain through the small window. This is what really happened. Then we get into my head. I remember how beautiful the sky was, how warm and exciting it felt to be next to Jared in the middle of the ocean, how amusing I found the small boy, how I was imagining the rest of our night together. What does he remember? Maybe some things are the same. But maybe he remembers feeling tired, or the boy being really annoying, or being worried that the boat was going to sink. Two entirely different people. Two different attitudes. Two separate memories.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry at all of this. Part of me wants to throw my hands in the air and say "IT'S ALL FAKE, WHO THE FUCK CARES ANYMORE, THERE'S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT!" and part of me says "it's so heartbreaking to think that the love and warmth I felt was not shared, that what I thought was beautiful may not have been beautiful to someone else."

So I don't know. I don't know anything. Nothing.

Monday, June 20, 2011

I know I'm young, and that I have much to look forward to. I know that things will get better. I know that people get better. I know that people move on. I know that happiness is possible.

These are the things I tell myself when I look in the mirror and blink back tears, trying to remember who I am underneath all of this. These things don't seem very true right now. I wish they did.

You weren't just my boyfriend--you were and are my favorite friend. My favorite person to adventure with, to talk to, to contemplate with, to just hang out with. I loved listening to your ideas, your knowledge, your stories. Even if we can't be together, it kills me to think about you not being a part of my life. It kills me to have you not respond to me, knowing that I'm dying over here, knowing that you were always the first person to care about me and comfort me, knowing that you're capable of just ridding me from your life.

I look at everything and see you. I'm dreading the drive home from school today, because I know it will take everything in me not to drive by. I know it will take everything in me to not break down, to not want to drive my car into the nearest tree, to not knock at your door and say "please talk to me."

I know there are pieces of me in you, in your head, in your apartment. Do you not think about me when you're face to face with them?

It just kills me.

Friday, June 17, 2011

There's nothing I can write here, really.

Everyone has problems. I loved and love you in spite of yours. Mine were too much to overcome.

I wish it didn't happen this way. I wish I could go back.

I don't know how I'll sleep tonight. I don't know how I'll wake up tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. I don't know how I'll listen to music or watch TV or eat or look at billboards. Everything is connected to you, to us.

I'm trying to deal with this as calmly as possible, but it's difficult. Especially when I know it's mostly my fault. But I also refuse to sit here and blame myself for everything.

When all is said and done, I hope that one day we can be a part of each other's lives again. I know you're pretty dead set on not being with me, but maybe we can build a friendship. We sort of rushed into what we had, and maybe that was a mistake. Who knows where we might end up in a few years. I know I'm being hopeful, but hope is about the only thing I have left right now.

Sunday, May 22, 2011


So I get home from work, high as a kite, and start cutting up some peppers to make Southwestern eggrolls. I turn my red bell pepper over and see a weird green thing peeking out. My heart sinks. I realize it's not moving, and it almost looks like a green bell pepper growing inside the red bell pepper. I look at it again and think it might possibly be a baby snake...or even worse, a huge fat green worm. I run over to the computer and google this phenomenon, and sure enough, someone else has come across it.

I especially love this comment: "A pepper baby! The first time I ever saw one, I was 19 years old and cooking dinner while tripping my brains out (this was a Very Long Time Ago). It was... freaky. I've seen hundreds and hundreds of pepper babies since then, and every time I get a little shivery feeling across my scalp remembering my first."

It's comforting to know I'm not the only ulcer on society freaking out about a bell pepper baby worm/alien/growth/tumor.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

"I like you. You're articulate, warm, receptive, calm, knowledgeable, intelligent. I would love to hire you. However, we don't have any families right now that fit into your availability. If your school schedule changes, give me a call."

I wish she had said "YOU SUCK, I'M NOT HIRING YOU." So frustrated right now. I tried so hard to change my schedule around, but the classes I need to take are all over the place, and there's no possible way I could arrange them so they're all before 3pm.

I'm also kind of upset because I told her my availability on the phone, and she told me there was nothing, and then called me the next day for an interview saying there might be a family with a similar schedule.

I just want to curl into a ball and cry.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Superficial Drug Addicts Anonymous D & K

"I feel like a literal re these days."
"Don't you just feel even more stupid than usual sometimes?"
"Yeah, I haven't smoked in forever though."
"Me either! If that's the reason then what have our lives come to?"
"I feel like all the thrill and happiness of life has been sucked out of me because I have no weed and no way to get weed."
"Jesus Christ...welp, time to kill ourselves."
"Can we please?"
"Yes, but we have to be tan first."

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Things I love about you/us

-Your obsession with q-tips
-The way you smile sleepily when you wake up & see me a-creepin'
-Your ability to anticipate/predict all my thoughts
-"Shit dude..."
-When you read to Lilly
-You tell me you love me 800x a day because I'm a psychopath and you know I need to be reminded of these things
-Kissing you at red lights
-When you try to create new games but always revert to "chicken + _____" because it's your favorite one
-You always know which flavor of something I secretly want and let me have it even if you want the same thing
-Holding your hand for 3 seconds and then saying "EW I HATE HOLDING HANDS"
-Your willingness to participate in absurd endeavors, like collecting 2700 Slush Puppie points so we can get free things
-When we're sitting somewhere and you feel the overwhelming urge to squeeze the life out of me...and then you do
-Our overly dramatic performance of "textmewhenyougethome"
-The way your eyes look when you laugh

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Juice Newton

At the beginning of the semester, I sort of had a crush on my lab professor. He was appealing in an Alton Brown sort of way---knowledgeable, awkward, socially inept, unabashedly nerdy--and for this reason, I thought that we could get through the course with relative ease.

With each week, it became more evident that instead of being a quirky intellectual, this man was actually a serial killer. This assessment was confirmed by the 3rd class, when the girl next to me described a nightmare wherein he murdered the entire class.

Tonight, I went to lab. This was no small feat; it poured the entire day, which resulted in a driveway completely covered in worms. As we all know, I don't do worms. They're just not my thing, ya dig? They bring on panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, and the urge to put my feet on the steering wheel because I'm now convinced the worms have somehow made it into the car and they're going to touch me and OH GOD. Despite my handicap, I make it to campus. I even find a parking spot. I think "this isn't so bad." I walk into lab with the innocence of a spring lamb. And what do I find? An entire room FULL of jars brimming with various types of worms.

I quietly walk up to the serial killer. "Um...so...like...I have a worm phobia." He looks up at me with a raised eyebrow. After 60 years of silence, he finally replies "you won't have to touch them." I decide to try again. "No, but like...it's really bad. Like, I like...panic. And stuff." He continues to stare at me as if he truly can't register what I'm saying. "Is there an alternative assignment I could complete?" He shakes his head and tells me I either have to stay or take a zero. I try to sit at my table, but there's a tank of leeches right next to me and one of them is clinging to the side of the glass and I start to itch. My lab partner has no idea what to make of me at this point. The clinging leech wiggles and falls into a pile of other squirming leeches, which I take as my personal cue to powerwalk my Richard Simmons ass the fuck out of there.

Due to the heartless, humorless nature of my serial killer professor, I now have a zero. No love. No compassion. No sympathy for my scoleciphobia. But you know what, professor? I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. So when I get home I Google you, trying to find something that humanizes you--a family picture, a blog post about your grandfather, a Facebook even--but all I find is your thesis.

About a paramecium.

So much for trying to cut people some slack around here.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011


I've been OK for the past 3 weeks without a car. Despite being highly inconvenient, my parents and I have been making it work--dropping people off, switching around schedules when possible, etc. I don't have much of a social life, so that wasn't a big deal.

Three weeks ago, I was told it would be a week. Fine. A week passed. We called. It would be another 3 days. Fine. 3 days passed. We called. "It will be ready in another week." Now I start getting annoyed. I replace my frustration with hope. The new date is approaching and I'm looking forward to being able to leave immediately after I get out of work instead of having to wait for someone to pick me up like a 14 year old.

Today was judgment day. I sat down next to my mom on the couch. She picked up the phone and looked at me. "I'm going to be so pissed if it's not ready," I laughed. I was happy at this point because I figured "well, it's already been in the shop for approximately 70 decades, so there's no way it WON'T be ready today." We're put on hold. The mechanic finally gets on the phone. My mom's smile fades. She hangs up. "Well...the parts haven't come in yet. He says once the parts come in, it will be all set."

I start to pace around the living room. In a towel. I'm foaming at the mouth. Tears begin to spill over my eyelids. I run upstairs, seething with anger. I start laughing like a maniac.

And then I create this:

Oddly enough, I feel much better now.

Monday, March 21, 2011



It's cold and dreary and all I can think about is this.
There's absolutely nothing better.
I can't wait until I can fall asleep with you every night.

I love you more every single day. <3

Sunday, March 20, 2011

In retrospect...

Maybe switching my major wasn't a good idea.

In the past hour, this book has convinced me that I'm a neurotic schizophrenic with an oral fixation who is still stuck in the phallic stage and lacks a superego.


There goes my life. Right down the shitter. Which apparently mirrors my anal-expulsive personality. OH GOD.

Monday, March 7, 2011


I miss Snapshot Sunday! I used to do them almost every week, but lately I've been too lazy. It's Monday...but...better late than never, right?

I worked early Sunday morning, where I was instructed to "seductively" harass customers to donate cans to the food bank.

Then I forced Jared to go to the zoo with me.

We went to Buttonwoord Park, where I pretended to ride a train.

There were approximately 4 animals in the entire zoo, but we got free passes for a future visit. HOWEVER there were these goats, and they put on quite a show for us.

After we left, we ordered Not Your Average Joe's to go and ate it outside. My salad and mustard crusted chicken were so very delicious.

After dinner, we went to Monster mini golf. I won. Except I cheated, so not really.

ALSO: 3 days til Jared and I leave for Niagara Falls/spring break/a week away from the hell that is Stop & Shop! I can't waiiiiiiit. I so need to get away, and it's even better that I get to go with my love. I won't even mind coming back too much, because I get to spend absurd amounts of time being unproductive members of society with Dylpie/Edna.

Thursday, March 3, 2011


Can we discuss how adorable my Jared is? Adorableness + learning my current favorite Taylor Swift song for me = best boyfriend ever.



Sunday, February 20, 2011

Snapshot Sunday

Last night, I picked Ian up from the train station. We went to Tortilla Flats and I ordered this bbq chicken & sweet potato quesadilla. It was literally the most delicious thing I've ever tasted in my whole life. You won't understand until you go there right now and eat it yourself.

Then we went back to my house and passed out. This is Ian waking up right before going back to sleep for another 2 hours. -__-

When he finally woke up, I made banana pancakes topped with nutella and more bananas. And also garlicky home fries with chives. So good.

After breakfast, we went to Tina's to see her apartment/cat. I'm not a big fan of cats (I'm also allergic), but this one was really cute.

Then we went downtown.

I really wanted a picture hanging from this clock, but Ian refused because it was cold...so essentially what we have here is a poor imitation.

We went to Craftland, which is an adorable store/art space full of adorable/overpriced trinkets.

Ian's new deef.

Then we tried to go to Julian's but it was super busy, so we ended up at Little Chopsticks.

And it was delicious, even if there was an unidentifiable hair in my lo mein.

Then I went to work and now I'm studying for my psych exam tomorrow. I've only been to the class 3 times all semester. Let us pray.

Thursday, February 17, 2011


This is not contrived, and if you think it is, I am deeply apologetic.

It's just that I put on this song and opened my windows. It smells like winter, where I lost much of my mind, but there is a hint of spring, too. If you look in my shoeboxes, you will find erasers and broken crayons. I don't know why I save them. Fear, I guess.

I stood up and started flailing my arms, circling around the room, unable to tell if I was laughing or crying. I could see my dreams flitting across my lavender walls. There are so many you don't know about.

I hope that my children will stand in the middle of a crowd. I hope that they do not feel out of place, and if they do, I hope they know it's OK. I hope there is music so loud there is no room for thought. I hope that the pavement vibrates. I hope that they can feel it shake under their feet.

Do you remember when we pulled cat masks over our faces and joined a group of strangers dancing around the city? There were so many people, and music followed us around in shopping carts piled high with speakers. We were protesting the war. I don't think anyone was listening, but it was beautiful.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011


Whenever I get sick, I get mucus in the back of my nose/throat. AND IT'S SO ANNOYING, because I feel fine otherwise. I'd rather feel nauseous. I think it might have something to do with the time I got swine flu and my tonsils swelled to the size of Africa. The swelling subsided after a while, but not completely. Now they're huge. And they make me snore.

In other news, I had really freaky Nyquil dreams last night. In one of them, my sea monkey escaped from its tank. Then I looked back in the tank and there was a bright red fish. A few seconds later, both the sea monkey AND the fish were out of the tank, and I was freaking out. I somehow managed to corner the fish on the side of the dishwasher, but then it touched my skin and I screamed. All of a sudden it turned into a bird and right as it was about to fly into my face, I woke up. I gasped and looked around my bed for a red bird, but it wasn't there. Dreams are so funny, because I know exactly why I had this dream: 1) Jared informed me yesterday that there are sea monkeys that are like sea monkeys, only they turn into little fish, and 2) I left the top part of my window (which doesn't have a screen) open all day, and for some reason, I was convinced that a bird flew into my room while I was gone and decided to hide under my bed.

Anyway, as of yesterday, Jared and I have been together for an entire year. Seeing as I was convinced I'd be alone forever/I've never dated anyone for more than 6 minutes, this is an accomplishment. We went out and celebrated Sunday since both of us had school/work Monday (even though neither of us ended up going...woops). He took me to Boston where we: walked around, looked at hemp stuff, played tic-tac-toe at Burger King, discovered that I'm obsessed with revolving doors, purchased a $16 headband, learned that Myla Goldberg is an actual person, froze, rode the same elevator 90 times, bought grapes at 7-11, ate delicious Indian food, and missed our movie so we could go home and have sex. Jared keeps apologizing that it wasn't "cute" enough, but I thought it was absolutely perfect and very "us."

Thursday, February 10, 2011

I can't wait to spend Sunday with you. I feel like we haven't spent a lot of time together lately, and I miss you so much.

I'm looking at all these pictures of us--the time we went to Sonic, the zoo, random nights spent in bed. We look so happy.

I hope you're still happy.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

I had such strange dreams last night.

I was in this alternate reality (it resembles one I dreamt about a while ago). It was this wide stretch of farmland, and everyone had to plant crops. I was alone. It was apparently the "big day," but it was nameless. We all had to stand by our small pieces of land and bring what we had grown up to whoever/whatever was judging us. I started walking to my plot, thinking "yours is number 173, don't forget." When I got there, I realized that I had planted my seeds, but nothing ever grew. I felt helpless. I turned to the woman next to me and showed her what my land had produced--these strange purple and black mushrooms. She smiled at me sadly and said "those will not do...I'm sorry." I knew then that I would be sent "elsewhere," which meant execution. I walked past all the plots, which was forbidden, and I stood there waiting to die. Clouds starting rolling in--clouds like cotton candy, purple and pink and blue, clouds like all the fantasies you create as a little girl--and not even they could bring me joy. I don't know what happened next.

Thursday, February 3, 2011


I don't know what happened...but Don has evolved from a rock to the most intelligent, emotionally perceptive genius.

Gina has been flipping out since 4PM about god knows WHAT--CJ's hair is greasy, the fridge smells, the TV turns off whenever she picks up the phone, the sky is blue--and I've been locked in my room ever since.

So then she screams "ARE YOU COMING TO THE SCIENCE FAIR?" and I reply "NO!" There's a slight pause, then "WHY NOT?!" Don peeks his head in my room and rolls his eyes, then shouts "PROBABLY BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T WANT TO LISTEN TO YOU ALL NIGHT!"

Hit the nail on the head with that one, Don. It seems like only yesterday you were mistaking black dogs for polar bears.

Monday, January 24, 2011


I read one of your recent posts and it sort of bothered me-- the part about never leaving your hometown and being defined by the people you grew up with. I know it wasn't a jab at me or anything, but it was still upsetting.

Did I want to stay here? No. I, like you, had dreams too. They did not involve living at home, commuting to RIC, and working at Stop & Shop for 5+ years. This lifestyle was, of course, a choice. I won't deny that. But you also have to remember that I didn't/don't have the same advantages you did/do. Your financial situation is likely far better than my own. You were raised in a household where art was encouraged, not suppressed. You have two incredibly happy, supportive parents. My life could have been a lot worse, but it wasn't yours, either. For mostly financial reasons--I'll admit I was terrified, too--I've ended up here. And no, I haven't moved far away or studied abroad. My parents aren't footing the bill for a room in an expensive school in the city. But if you think that means I haven't grown intellectually, mentally, or emotionally, you're wrong.

And if you think that means I'll never get out of here, you're absolutely wrong. Some of us just have to take a different path.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Round up

What I like about today:
-I have fuzzy pajamas
-I have not left my bed since I woke up
-I'm becoming the most skilled sudokuist ever

What I don't like about today:
-I have to go to work
-I'm hungry
-I have frozen feet
-I got paid today...check = $35.42
-I have a lip zit that will not vacate the premises
-I miss my boyfriend

Monday, January 17, 2011

Last night

We tend to live in the small world we've created for ourselves. I think it's just what happens in relationships, and that's OK. But last night I saw your eyes light up as you told stories about people and places from the past. I felt like I did when we first met--you were so cute and interesting and funny (not that I don't always think so). I'm glad it happened, and I'm glad we both realized it happened. I think it's something we needed to uncover. I know I sometimes feel like I've lost myself, so I can only imagine how you must feel. There is so much we haven't experienced together. We're in the habit of staying in and staring at each other in bed (which isn't a bad thing, of course), but there's so much I want to do and see with you. It's like...somewhere along the line we both got the idea that we had to morph into this weird robot with 5 settings in order to please the other (I think more so on your end), but that really isn't the case. I hope you don't think it is. I don't think we'll ever stop meep mopping around, but I do think it would be beneficial to step outside of that comfort zone and get to know the other beyond "us." I think that's what I mean when I say "But Jared, I don't even know you!"

Besides, that's the version of you I first fell in love with.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Snapshot Sunday

I woke up this morning feeling the need to travel somewhere I haven't been in a while. Dylan came over and we ended up in Wickford.

Everything there is so quaint! I love this house. Especially the colors.

Also, this bridge is really cute.

After a while we ended up back home.

I made us the most delicious quesadillas: black beans, bbq chicken, avocado, scallions, and monterey jack.

Then I remembered that it's been 5 days since my sea monkey eggs hatched, so it was time to feed them!

This brought me much joy.

Then I went to work, where I made Jess a veggie/fruit penis sculpture. Someone built her one at her coffee shop job this morning, so she wrote a post on Facebook speculating that there probably wouldn't be a veggie penis at her "other" job. WRONG!

Then I went to buy everyone coffees except I had to go to Honeydew AND Dunkin. By the time I got to Dunkin I was so flustered that I couldn't speak. I meant to ask for a cinnamon raisin bagel twist but instead asked "can I have a cinnamon bagon raisil twist?" The woman taking my order promptly replied "sure!" but I was still mortified, haha.

I leave you with this video of my sea monkey obsession/Dylan being a lunatic.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Remember when?

Jared: because i just remember how long it took you to put your boots on because you were afraid of beach worms and then we stood outside in the rain and the surf for far too long. and then came back into the car and shivered and sang songs on the radio. and it was so great.

I love everything we've ever done.