Things I believe.

I believe in serendipity.

I believe that cuss-words are the statement necklaces of the English language

I believe that Snapchat Stories are going to be everyone's biggest regret on their deathbed.

I believe their is a third tier in hell for websites that have videos that automatically start. 

I believe you can always earn more money, but you can't earn more time.

I believe in faking it til you make it. 

I believe your shoes should never match your shirt. Coordinate, yes. Match, no. Unless we're talking all black err'thing.

I believe that only boring people get bored.

I believe that friends who offer to show up in a bear suit with vodka at the doctors office to keep you company are the best kind to have. 

I believe in telling someone when they have shit in their teeth. Or a booger hanging out. Or TP on their shoe. 

I believe that wearing nothing but flats is wasting your womanhood.

I believe that a mason jar full of change is the secret window to adventures.

I believe alcohol will never solve any problem at hand, but it's sure to make the process more fun.

I believe in forgiving but not forgetting. And never burning bridges.

I believe in getting hurt. I believe in hitting rock bottom. I believe in standing back up.

I believe in the power of putting good juju into the world.

What do you believe in? 

An ode to couples that don't suck.

If you want me to be completely honest here, some couples suck.

Maybe that's harsh, but it's the truth. There are some couples who, when you log a few hours with them, they just absolutely suck the life out of you. Whether it's because they're constantly bickering, or wayyy too affectionate, or only into each other, whatever. They just suck. And when you finally wrangle free of their grasp it's like the heavens open up and you're all THANKTHELUCKYSTARSIMSINGLESTILL.

Where am I going with this? Well a few weeks ago a small group of us began planning a trip down to Louisville. Specifically for bridesmaid dress shopping, less specifically for Thunder Over Louisville and shenanigans. 

When I realized this 'small group' would consist of two engaged couples, myself, and one of my best girlfriends, I was slightly hesitant. Was I signing myself up for a weekend of pre-wedded-bliss torture? 

Fast forward (rewind then fast forward?) through this past weekend, I remember making it a point to tell them on the ride home how glad I was that they didn't suck as a couple.

We chatted, we shopped, we ate, we drank, we ooh'ed and ahh'ed over airplanes and fireworks, we laughed until our abs burned and tears were streaming down our face, and then we ate and drank some more.

Truth be told, there was more than one occasion where watching them together warmed my icy heart up a little. Maybe ALL relationships aren't absolutely dreadful. Maybe.

In closing, congrats (and thank you) on not sucking, Courtney & Legends, and Amelia & Andy. I want to be you one day when I grow up.

march: currently

Scheduling doctors appointments and MRI's. As much as I had hoped to leave my medically laden 2013 behind me, it's unfortunately followed me into 2014


Cussing at the weather. It was high 70s on Sunday, and snowing this morning. Snow. What in the literal hell?


Patting myself on the back after going over my yearly review with my boss on Friday, I've been busting my arse ever since I took over the design department here at the house of booze a few years ago, and it's so nice being praised for my hard work and effort!


Cleaning up the mess I just made peeling & devouring an orange at my desk. It looks as if a toddler spilled an entire cup of orange juice everywhere.


Rocking out to Lionel Richie. What? Sometimes when Dancing on the Ceiling pops up you just let it happen.


Reminiscing to this time last year, I was still out of work following my lung operation, and I distinctly remember being glued to the television as the Boston bombing events unfolded.


Looking forward to a weekend in town. The past few weeks have been spent in Lousiville, Chicago, Las Vegas and Louisville again... to say I miss logging consecutive days in my bed is an understatement.


Craving fried chicken.

And I think I'll just go ahead and bow out on that note.