my crossword puzzles go wherever I go (Taken with instagram)
Taken with instagram
please don’t get me wrong. i absolutely love when i tell people about my life, and what i do, and they say, ‘omg. you’re carrie bradshaw.’
it’s amazing to have compared yourself to (a fictional) someone for so long and then have that be the first person people think of when they meet you.
on the other hand, i have been stuck in season five carrie mode for entirely too long now. for at least three seasons, i have been dating the city i’m in. reevaluating my life. watching my friends get married and have babies. reminding myself of why it’s good for me to be single (i also had jackrabbit sex. see episode: the catch).
‘if i’d known you were just using me, i wouldn’t have made love to you like that.’
but i digress.
i’m ready to rewind and be a bit more of season three carrie (hot child in the city!), or, dare i say it, a season three samantha. i need to get out of my comfort zone, stop worrying, stop wondering how things are going to play out for me, and just make a fucking move. everything that i’ve ever wanted to happen in my life has happened, just not as quickly as i wanted it to. but it worked out, and i need to remind myself of this when i get too anxious about something or wish that something would just work out already. in due time, stupid!
anyway, wish me luck. at the very worst, i’ll end up like season five miranda, hiding under the bed and getting hit in the head by charlotte’s wedding bouquet.
the time we made friends and drank wine at the duffy concert.
the time it was new year’s eve and we wore feathers in our hair.
the time we had the BEST GROUP HALLOWEEN COSTUMES EVER.
the time ashley had to wrestle my roommate to the ground to take her car keys (oops, she had an extra pair of car keys).
the time we had the BEST IDEA FOR A THANKSGIVING BAR CRAWL EVER.
the (third or fourth) time amanda and i stomped around and said “i hate this couch!” and the first time i drank two buck chuck out of the bottle.
the time we had an impromptu pillow fight at amanda’s house party.
the time i got you right in the face.
the time we had a palm springs girls weekend (and met ourselves in 20 years).
the time your boyfriend was out of town.
the time you had the BEST BIRTHDAY EVER.
the time we were the manson family.
the time we did a dance for you.
the time you became a woman.
the time we had midday miami dance parties.
the time we got to go to new york together, but not really.
the time we did shots because you were leaving.
the time you took really great care of me.
the time you turned 25 and could still pull off leather pants.
the time we just chilled.
the time you came back for memorial day.
the time we were on ‘the grind’.
the time i said goodbye.
if you remember these moments, say ‘aye’.
and not just remember them, but remember how fun, exciting, and carefree these moments were. we were young, but not much younger than we are now. things change, but our love for each other doesn’t have to.
miss and love you. please don’t forget about me.
good evening, america.
it has come to my attention that i. am a movie crier.
i know that i’m probably not alone in this, and i get that some movies are just really depressing and totally worth crying during, but for the past two years or so, i’ve developed some crazy hormonal disorder that compels me to tear up during movies that aren’t even really that sad. all it takes is one marginally unhappy moment, an intense argument, or the slightest indication of loneliness to get me going. here are some examples of movies that i’ve cried during recently, either in the theater or watching at home. judge for yourself:
- he’s just not that into you
- eat pray love
- the social network
- black swan
- blue valentine
- going the distance
- due date
- corrina, corrina
- sex and the city 2 (2!!)
- the devil wears prada
- l’amour fou
- and earlier tonight, bridesmaids
once i secretly came to terms with this crippling malady, i’d make sure to go alone to movies where i knew i’ll be especially weepy (see: eat pray love) and when i felt the waterworks coming on during a not-really-that-sad moment, i’d bust out one of the little tricks i developed for not making myself look like an over-emotional freakshow:
- burying my face in my scarf so it looks like i just got chilly.
- resting my temple on my closed fist, shielding my watery eye from the person i’m sitting next to.
- rubbing my nose furiously so it looks like an allergy attack is coming on.
i realize this makes me look stupid anyway, so i’ve decided to just let my crybaby freak flag fly and allow myself to be publicly moved by a movie, no matter how un-cryworthy the scene may be. i mean really, who cares? so maybe gigi getting rejected for the 437th timemakes my eyes water; do i really care what i look like or how it may come off to other people? i am a person! and most importantly, i am a girl. so if seeing another girl in a movie experiencing something i’ve experienced hits a nerve, so be it. there are worse things i could do in a movie theater, i imagine. i could be talking on my cell phone, kicking the back of someone’s chair, or farting profusely. thus, i am officially allowing myself to openly cry during movies that may not actually be that sad.
say it loud; i cry during movies and i’m proud.
She doesn’t believe that friendships are lifelines because you must always measure the strength of a lifeline to see if it will bear your weight, and that is dangerous. Anything measured may fall short. Rather, in times of need, fall, and trust in the goodness of human nature, strangers, friends, enemies, indifferent acquaintances. Better yet, know that you are made of rubber and you will bounce back up.
—via thought catalog
stevie is the coolest.