under the knife

welp, I’m just gonna throw this out there for the 2 people who don’t know already… I’m having a boob job. A reverse boob job really, but a job none-the-less. I’m getting reduced on Thursday and there’s nothing you can do to stop me! I’ve decided to just be honest with people about it and let them know what’s up so as to avoid awkward “what looks so different” conversations later. So I’ve pretty much told everyone. I’m not even kidding… My bosses know, my grandpa’s know, my kickball team knows… I think the only person who doesn’t know is the sweet sweet barista boy at the coffee place by my work. Maybe I should update him tomorrow…

Anyhow, in honor of going under the knife I feel like I should document the things that I will and won’t miss, as well as what I’m looking forward to with my new boobs!

-I will not miss all the negative attention my boobs get me from guys (mostly in bars, mostly guys I don’t know.)

-I will not miss wearing 3 sports bras to kickball and still being in pain while running from home to first.

-I will miss being able to use my own boobs as a pillow.

-I will miss the bras I spent a lot of money on to keep my girls looking good.

-I am looking forward to buying new bras!

-I am not looking forward to spending money to buy new bras.

-I am looking forward to button down shirts.

-I am looking forward to shirts made out of something other than jersey.

-I am not looking forward to trying on all my clothes just to find out I need new ones.

-I will not miss back pain!

-I am looking forward to being able to hold a golf club!

-I am looking forward to being known as something other than the girl with the huge boobs! Even being known as the girl who USED TO have huge boobs will be great.

Mostly, I am looking forward to turning over a new leaf with my new boobs. Gotta make it worth it ya’ll!

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Dear Friends with Kids,

I used to like all of you…

And then you spammed my Facebook wall with a thousand stupid posts to vote for your babies to be the next Gerber Baby.

News Flash Y’all: They can’t ALL be the cutest baby. And I hate to break it to you, but honestly, most of them aren’t that cute. You’re just all biased because they came out of your own lady bits. I’m sure my mom thought I was that cute too… I wasn’t though. I looked like the freaking Michelin man and I’m drooling in like every baby picture ever.

Let’s face it… Some baby out in California with super rich parents who can pay for an ad campaign are going to win this one. So stop asking me to vote because I’m not going to. Isn’t it enough that I had to watch all your kids go to school yesterday? I would have rather seen pictures of you all drinking to celebrate their departure. (Don’t lie, I know every last one of you had a glass of wine after you put those kids on the bus. If not: Shame on you.)

I stand by my previous statement that Facebook was better when all my friends were just getting drunk…

Let’s all make today more fun and post a picture of yourself doing something dumb and funny with no one under the age of 18 involved.

Your childless friend who misses getting drunk with you,


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I really am a nice person, I promise…

but this post is not going to let you see that.

First, let’s all move on past the fact that I am literally the worst blogger ever. I can’t follow through with regular posting to save my life. This is a fact. I am admitting it. I will try to do better. We are moving on.

So not only am I not a good blogger, but apparently I am not a nice person. Today we’re gonna talk about things that drive me nuts. I really don’t only complain about things, but seriously… would anyone actually want to read this if all I talked about was how much I like pickles and why? (I’m not kidding I really do and there are SO many reasons.)

So you know how sometimes there are just things that make your skin crawl or make you feel the need to tell perfect strangers that what they are doing is NOT ok? I have a lot of those things. My mom and dad seem to think I have more of them than other people, but I just think I express these things more often than others do… So what are these things you ask? Well… Let’s see.

1- 75% of the cast of Teen Mom. I seriously can’t think of people that I would less like to spend time around. Between Farrah, her lisp, the eye rolling, and all the shit she talks to her mom, Amber being high all the time and then yelling at Fat Gary, and Maci’s idiot ex with a vocabulary of 7 words total, I’m glad that this show is ending this year. I would LOVE to stop being addicted to this train wreck… (of course we all know I’ll replace my addiction with the next season of 16 and preggers.) Also- Random observation: Can courts use tape from the show during custody hearings? If so, I feel like all these children would get taken from their parents.

2- Laundry. Seriously, am I the only person in the world who takes 5 days to do 3 loads of laundry? If I could get away with febreezing everything I own I would… but that doesn’t count with underwear and I am strongly opposed to going commando with dresses and skirts.

3- When people don’t want to do things on my schedule. I realize this is super self centered… but when I have an idea/plan and want to make it happen, I need everyone to be on my page and make it happen THEN. This might be mostly because I’m an epic procrastinator as well as super forgetful and if things don’t happen when they’re on my to do list, they don’t happen as all.

4- Politics on Facebook. Enough said.

5- Adult Thumb Suckers. This is seriously disgusting. Not only is it disgusting, it is also seriously messed up. No one who knowingly puts their thumb in their mouth past the age of 10 can possibly be 100% sane. I mean, lets put aside the fact that you touch COUNTLESS things daily that you should not put into your mouth but you essentially are when you stick that thumb in there, but also, you are a grown adult. It is not ok to walk around with your thumb in your face. I am embarrassed for you that you still have that habit. Not to mention I think 50% of that habit is probably related to a need for attention that I really can not tolerate.

6- Dating. People who say dating is “SO FUN” are smoking something. Dating is literally the pits. The anxiety involved in meeting someone, waiting for them to call, wondering how they feel about you… It is AWFUL. I’ve been trying so hard to look at it from a positive perspective but it is KILLING ME. I’m having trouble finding the excitement in it when I feel like a total failure at it.

7- The Apple Store in Norfolk. This place is literally the least organized, most chaotic place I’ve ever been. I can’t even get past this chaos to enjoy the hot boys. They need to tighten up over there.

So that’s it for now… it’s just a bitchy tuesday I guess. I know I can come up with more than that, but that’s all my brain has room for at the moment!

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gotta get out of here…

Here are a list of people who don’t live with their parents that make me feel badly about myself for still living with mine:


-Heidi Montag

-The cast of Teen Mom

-Erica from the Bachelor/Bachelor Pad

-The rest of the cast of Jersey Shore

-My little sister

-Mellie the Gypsy from TLC

If these people can all get their acts together then why the HELL can’t I??? This is turning into such a problem. I think I am starting to have bad self esteem based on the place where I sleep. That is such a huge issue…

Anyone need a roommate?

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Huck Finn is my Twin.

So way way way back in 11th grade ( I think it was 11th… I have this issue where I don’t actually remember the order of which my high school teachers go) My teacher made a HUGE deal over Huck killing a spider and the superstition behind it. Like, such a big deal that it’s literally the only thing I remember about the story. (Another issue I have is remembering the really dumb shit only and not the important stuff. Like when I took my AP Bio exam and literally the only thing I could remember while taking it was the mating habits of some sort of toads which, coincidentally, was not mentioned on the test.) Basically, Huck kills a spider and then obsesses over the fact that it’s a major bad luck move.

Somehow this stuck in my brain… so fast forward  10+ years, I am almost 28 years old and STILL refuse to kill spiders. I am that girl who traps them under a cup, slides a paper under it, and throws the thing outside. Don’t get me wrong… I am JUST as wigged out about them as the rest of the world… I am just MORE wigged out that I will strike myself with horribly bad luck if I knowingly kill the thing. I realize this makes me look bananas… but it’s just a thing I do. Sort of like how I ONLY order tomato juice to drink when I’m on an airplane. (that one is actually a little nuttier now that I think about it considering there is absolutely no reasoning behind it… but I am convinced it keeps the plane from malfunctioning… And now from actually typing this out I have convinced myself that I have a mild case of OCD.)

HOLY TANGENT… So lets fast forward a little more to saturday night when I nearly walked directly into a spider on my way into the house. The little fucker decided that the spot from the plant on the right to the wall on the left was the PERFECT spot for his huge web. Too bad for him the door was in the middle and my roommates parents hadn’t changed the outside lightbulb in weeks and I continued to walk blindly into the house night after night, crossing my fingers that the boogie man didn’t jump out at me in the dark. So I walk into Mr. Spider’s home and he is about 2 centimeters from my face before I freak out, back up, and realize I can duck UNDER the web and still make it inside. I got a nice glimpse of the little guy while it happened and made a note of his size and he’s about the size of a dime including legs. Not so bad, right?

So the next night… I’m walking in the house, again no lights, and once again I almost face plant into a spider. Only tonight, I realized that spidey man has GROWN. I’m not talking a little, I’m talking this guy is now at least the width of a quarter across. A dime to quarter jump is huge… so either he invited friends over to play or spiders grow like, crazy fast. I’m thinking the latter considering their short life spans. Anyways… I thankfully do not face plant into giant spidey because at the last second, I remember his presence and decide to check for him. Well, along with his size, spider man’s web has also grown and there is no chance I can duck under him this time. I spend a few moments surveying my options. Option 1- use another door. No can do as I don’t have a house key (I know…) and it is 1am so clearly all other doors will be locked. Option 2- garage door. No dice again, the batteries died months ago. Option 3- call parents and ask them to let me in. It is now 1am. Phone calls to the house at this hour are only to be made in super emergency (or that one time I drunk dialed my parents from a bachelorette party). Option 4- try to bust through the web and not kill the gigantic spider. Ok let’s do this.

So I put on my big girl panties, grab my trusty lunch box, and fling it repeatedly at the web because, obviously, this is the only way to get the web out of my way. Only problem: the light is still out in the driveway and at this point the lights on my car have shut off. I cannot see the web… or the spider for that matter which is a huge problem when the spider you’re dealing with. So after I fling until I think the web is broken, I am , of course, suddenly convinced the spider is hanging out on my shirt somewhere.  I get into the car, turn it back on so my lights turn on, get confirmation that giant arachnid has, in fact, just relocated to a few feet over, and make my way into the house.

Even with confirmation of spider still in web, I change all my clothes just in case his babies are hanging on for a ride.

And despite all that trouble… I absolutely refuse to allow dad to kill the spider the next day as my strangely superstitious ass is convinced it will be the worst luck EVER considering his size. Thankfully he has moved to a scarier tunnel like web. We now tip our hats to each other each day as I leave the house.

Now that I think of all this… I don’t think the no dead spiders rule is helping my luck. Maybe if I actually started killing spiders I would get some good luck and find a way to move out of my parents house again finally…

(10 extra brownie points if you actually read that whole ramble. We can be friends forever.)

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Ramble on girl…

Jonny (the peanut gallery), has talked about Magic Mike at EVERY commercial break during the Bachelorette. I guess Mere and I are gonna have to take him to see it…

Jef the Mormon shall now be referred to as “the Sassy Mormon” due to his use of the F word in a totally funny manner during tonights ep. He is making great progress. Chris, on the other hand, is an ugly crier and needs to settle the eff down.

I am incredibly confused by Emily’s dress on the Bachelorette tonight. And also, why didn’t they let her wear warmer clothing? She wraps herself in a blanket literally EVERY chance she gets.

Trader Joe’s is really the best place on earth… I say that only because Whole Food’s hasn’t opened up across the street from it yet. And also because of their wine.

Our News anchors here in VB really need makeovers. The one we just watched looks straight up like Skeletor with skin.

A month later, I still can’t stop thinking about how scared/alarmed/overwhelmed I was by the Mermaid show on Animal Planet. Don’t watch The Body Found unless you’re ready to be terrified.

Mere and I are pretty sure that our lives are parallel with Friends. We probably should have been born about 7 years earlier.

I really love when Mere validates food to me… I swear off carbs, eat salad for lunch, eat salad for dinner, then end up finishing a bottle of wine, eating 2 mini cupcakes, and some popcorn. All because Mere said “I’m pretty sure you should finish that bottle of wine.” “I’m pretty sure it’s only like, 150 calories for a cupcake.” “I’m pretty sure it’s better for you than most popcorn.” Apparently “I’m pretty sure” the perfect reason.

Mere and I also just decided that Friends, Full House, Seinfeld, and Saved By The Bell are the Bewitched, I Dream Of Genie, I Love Lucy, and Leave It To Beaver of our lifetime… The shows we watched and loved but our kids will totally think are totally lame until they are our age and can actually appreciate antiques for what they are.

and thus ends the monday night observations. (only 2 days late…)

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I have 2 things to say:

2 Facebook related comments that I just feel slightly guilty stating on Facebook… because who ever knows who actually subscribes to my posts on there. And while I don’t mind speaking my mind, I also don’t want to start mega drams up on the FB wall. If someone happens to read this, it is because they clicked on a link, not because I forced it into their news feed. SO.. With that said:

1- Dear Friends, Politicians, and Shenandoah University,

Nope… I’m sorry. I will not be donating to your fund to send you to on some learning excursion/political campaign/alumni association. I can not even afford to move my own ass out of my parents house… And I have 2 jobs! If I had an extra $10, it will be going into my savings account- NOT to your fund. I find it wildly inappropriate that you would think it would be ok to constantly message me on Facebook to inform me that you need money.  If it is suddenly ok to take to Facebook to panhandle then I should start Facebook panhandling for rent money. Why don’t you get a few jobs and apply for some grant money or a scholarship like people used to do? This is about as tacky as those people who register for you to pay for part of their honeymoon instead of pots and pans like a regular wedding registry. It is also not ok to call my house or my cell phone asking for money… Where the hell did you get my number and why do you insist on calling at dinner time?

2- FYI: You aren’t that Pretty. And the fact that you constantly post vain, self obsessed, narcissistic photos of yourself in what is not really considered clothing but more so considered underwear actually makes you LESS attractive. I find it sad that you still don’t understand the difference between modeling and soft core porn. And I also find it sad that setting up a camera for yourself does not make you a model. Your Instagram pictures stress me out because they are NSFW but yet I won’t unfriend/unfollow you because you truly are like watching a train wreck… So I guess when it comes down to it, it’s really more my problem than yours.

But this is my blog and I’ll complain about it anyways.

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