sleep in heavenly peace? really?

before we continue with the wisdoms i've learned so far this advent season, let me remark on how awesome this experience is turning out to be. if you are a christmas hater (or an anything-hater), this whole re-learning joy thing is a fantastically transformative experience. you should try it.

and so we continue...

#7: peppermint mochas @starbucks

other coffee places may try to create a peppermint drink and they may use fair trade coffee and organic milk, but no one makes a peppermint mocha like starbucks...(specifically one barista on mcknight rd in pittsburgh..i'm literally drooling). this is my personal treat to myself. this may not be super wise or even healthy. but when i know it's going to be a stressful day, i treat myself to a lil peppermint encouragement.  

{now available in skinny}

#6: hot metal bridge faith community: redefining my advent season one week at a time...

so i currently intern at this phenomenal church on the south-side of pittsburgh: hot metal bridge faith community. i love this place because you can come as you are, be who you are, and worship Jesus in your own way. hmb is always pushing the envelope on things, and this advent season, we are doing the advent wreath of "tough love." the first candle was the candle of, "get over yourself" and this past week's candle was the candle of "stop buying stuff."

do yourself a favor and watch this video of last week's drama:

{in the faaaaccccceeeee...}

now, this is the lesson i learned: finally someone is giving me a fresh perspective on christmas. finally someone is questioning the way we practice christmas. finally...someone else gets how i feel about the advent season.

because here's the deal: i wonder if part of the reason christmas gets under my skin is that sometimes (not all the time) the idea of the nativity scene seems fake to me. was Jesus the perfect baby who never cried or pooped or vomited? was Jesus' birth in a disgusting, dirty, poopy stable so clean? did mary, after probably hours of painful labor (no drugs or midwife by the way) really sit up, kneel down, and worship the baby she just birthed, the way we depict it in paintings?

{ouch!!}

probably not. the whole thing seems like it would have been messy, chaotic, nitty gritty. maybe part of me likes the messy. i like the realness, the rawness of jesus. ricky bobby might prefer the lil baby jesus; well maybe i'm like that other guy and i like my jesus wearing a tuxedo t-shirt bc he means business but he's here to party too. i like that jesus was kind of an average joe, that he wasn't afraid of sticking his hands in some mud to give someone sight. he wasn't too perfect and glowing and porcelain to be born in a back-alley stable, nor to die brutally on a cross. he wasn't too uppity to offer salvation to the thief on the cross next to him, and he's not too self-righteous to love me.

when i consider the nativity scene as a place of mess and chaos and humility, when i take away the glowing faces and halos, when i imagine the stink and the blood and the mud and the screaming, that actually gives me a good feeling about who Jesus is, and about the nature of his coming to earth. it gives me hope for wretches like me. it gives me peace that Jesus enters chaos to bring order. it gives me joy that he was just as lowly as anyone else.

{would the real Jesus please stand up, please stand up, please stand up...}

#8: frank sinatra saves my christmas...

i had my first major christmas epiphany {note the ironic usage of the word "epiphany" re: christmas} today during a long run. i've blogged before about my love of running that really contains quite a bit of hate. essentially: my addiction to a runner's high. today, i was reminded yet again about how running is 90% mental. as my dear friend, jordan, once said:

i love running because it's up to you. you get to control where you go, how fast you go, how far you go. you can only run as far or as fast as you want to, as you believe you can. the moment you begin to criticize yourself or feel insecure, that's the moment you can't run any farther.

{ps. this quote may be entirely inaccurate. but you get the gist.}

the mental part of running has two parts for me. first, i need to be my own cheerleader. i have to sing incredibly cheesy elementary school motivational songs {we go for the gooooollllldddddd}. i have to remind myself of the wonderful feeling of my pants not being too tight or feeling limber and energized. i have to remind myself to enjoy the beauty of the sky or the smell of the grass as i run {much more difficult when certain really amazing humans decide to leave their doggy doo in the middle of the sidewalk}. second, i have to give myself realistic expectations. am i going to run 26 miles tomorrow? nooope {chuck testa}. am i going to run the entire way up that hella hill? that's a hella no. but i can give myself realistic goals.

my christmas journey is much like this.

i discovered that i've spent the last 10 years disliking christmas, so i don't know how to BE the person who likes christmas. i have to replace those cynical, craptastic thoughts with joyful ones, or they'll just keep coming back. and i'm not just sugar-coating a turd...no, flushing the turd and cleaning the toilet with comet. {yes, that's right. i can use toilet imagery to describe anything}.

ergo...i've decided that over the next couple weeks of advent, my blog will countdown 8 ways that i have learned to love christmas authentically. here's #8:

#8: frank sinatra, christmas trees, and elf romance

{my tongue swells up when i see you....}

so not only do i absolutely love the movie, elf, but i am literally obsessed with the part when buddy goes on a date with jovi. they have the world's best cup of coffee {this tastes just like a crappy cup of coffee}; they look at 85 christmas trees; they ice skate; they kiss; frank sinatra plays a beautiful tune. i love this scene not only because i love coffee and christmas lights and ice skating and kissing, but because this scene does for me what the last scene of the original grinch does for many people: it gives me a romantic sort of hope. and not just an ooey-gooey boyfriend-girlfriend romance. a kind of hope that seems wildly crazy; a kind of hope that makes the world stand still because you enjoy the day so much. the kind of joyful occurrence when you stop caring about all the little things that drag you down {how tight your pants feel, that sniffle in your nose, how tired you are, the 85 other things you need to do, a myriad of unspoken problems between you and the person/people you're with}, and you experience an unbridled joy in what you're doing.

that's the kind of joy i think we celebrate through shepherds and angels singing and wise men bringing gifts. maybe it's that honest-to-goodness, come as you are kind of joy that Jesus brings.

so when's the last time you spent some time with someone and really enjoyed it?
when's the last time you hoped without doubt, loved without fear?
i may not be able to ever erase doubts. i may not be able to change past christmas nightmares. i'll never feel the same way i did at age 6 about christmas. but i can hope. i can enjoy today.

i'll leave you with some frank:

{even when i'm old and gray, i'm going to feel the way i do today...}

a cotton-headed ninny-mudgins in recovery

for many people, the months of november and december serve as a magic-filled, sparkly time to prepare for this mystical time of christmas, when families come together, cheeks are constantly rosy, and calories magically don't count. the weeks leading up to christmas display the ultimate paradox of warm fuzzy feelings in the darkest, coldest time of the year. we live into fluffy ideals of world peace, love, and hope. and yet, for most people, neither a big fat man in a red suit bringing perfectly wrapped gifts nor a glistening babe sucking his thumb in a manger bring any kind of peace or warm fuzzy feeling. for many people, christmas means anxiety...fear...inadequacy...grief. for me, the greatest image of christmas is the one put out at the beginning of frosty the snowman: the first christmas snow. that first blanket of snow that covers up all the dead things of november and winter, all the things that are ugly and starving and sleeping but that will be revealed in the warming of spring.


christmas is like eating a whole lot of cookie dough...it seems like such a good idea at the time.

{i'm havin' a food baby...}

so, typically christmas makes me bitter and cynical. i desire honesty rather than fluffy imaginary happiness. this year, i'm not willing to be pissed for the next 2 months; i'm also unwilling to give up authenticity in order to feel a momentary sense of happiness {even if i am willing to eat lots of cookie dough...}. so for this christmas season, i am going to change my christmas reality and i am going to use this blog to work through some of those things about christmas and about my own christmas experience that make me want to create a santa claus pinata and go to town with a baseball bat...

{i seez a santa. nom nom nom.}

so for this blog, i offer up 8 things that make me want to scream like macaulay culkin in home alone:

{aaaahhhhh}

8. winter is not ugly. it's fugly.

winter may look like a magical wonderland in places like colorado:

but in western pa, winter is like the red-headed stepchild of the seasons: forgotten, dead, and abandoned. our lack of continual sunshine is depressing and ugly. most christmases end up being gloomy, overcast skies over frozen, leafless grounds:

{curse you, photographers, who make this hideous day look breathtaking....}

7. it's so expensive

i don't think i need to even go into the financial burden of the christmas season on a grad student.

but i think the problem lies less in the fact that i don't have the money i'd like to spend on the people i love. it's more about the sense of obligation. 

6. family woes

i'm not gonna say that my family is quite to the point of griswold family christmas 

{look around you, helen! we're on the threshold of hell!}

...that said, family gatherings often do not end well in my household. there's something about the mix of pressure to not spill a giant meatball on your lap (a recent accomplishment of mine) and not to talk about religion and politics and sex and drugs and rock and roll and ..... so wait, what do we talk about?? i love my family. i hate gathering my family together in a way that makes some people feel powerful (the ones who provide food and can afford gifts) and others feel weak (those who accept the charity of others). 

5. my allergy to pine trees

despite my lifelong allergy to evergreen trees, my father has insisted on having a live tree in the house every single year. i consistently dread the month during which going into my parent's living room becomes a complete blur of sniffles and icky-ness. 

4. some terrible christmas songs

not all carols are bad. i will list a few that i think suck:

santa baby

grandma got run over by a reindeer

i saw mommy kissing santa claus

all i want for christmas is my two front teeth

surfin santa

the 3rd verse of we wish you a merry christmas

the alvin and the chipmunks christmas song

...

3. the creepy santa at the mall

i have already been criticized for my dislike of santa in a previous post, and i hope in the next few weeks to break down my walls of bitterness and rebuild my inner child's love of santa claus. but no matter what, i find a stranger dressing up and sitting at the mall and taking pictures with your kids is incredibly creepy.

{ho. ho. ho. you'll shoot your eye out kid!}

2. the combination of red and green

as a lover of art and color and fashion, the combination of red and green makes me want to vomit.

the end.

1. the same old boring story

even the jesus narrative sort of gets boring after the 24th time of hearing it. there's nothing fresh, nothing exciting, nothing thrilling about the story. i no longer have that wide-eyed, child-like joy at hearing the stories of christmas. i'm the grown up in the polar express. i'm the little girl in miracle on 34th street. i'm the curmugeonly father in elf.

the question is, how do i rediscover my joy for christmas? how do i stop investing in a christmas feeling and start giving into the joy of christmas?

i guess we'll find out over the next few blog posts...

top 10 reasons fall is slammin.

so, it has truly been a long time. in order to express my deep apology for my lack of writing, please view this video of aaliyah:

{it's been a long time. shouldn'ta left you without a dope beat to step to...}

that being said, autumn is now here, and in western pa, that means the world around me is displaying the widest range of colors known to the human eye. but that's not the only reason autumn is slammin. in honor of my grand return to blogging, i feel it's only fitting i give you a top 10 list.

10. crunchy leaves, pretty colors

{just imagine the crisp smell and the crunchy sound}

did anyone else jump from leaf to crunchy leaf on the way home from the bus stop as a child?

i did.

like popping bubble wrap, chewing a potato chip, walking on a hard surface in heels, popping a balloon, and sitting on a whoopy cushion, the feeling of stepping on crunchy leaves is so gratifying. one of pittsburgh's most attractive features is its gorgeous autumn leaves. our trees turn every shade you can even imagine, and the rolling hills create a landscape that uses an entire 96 crayon crayola box to depict.

LOVE - LOVE - LOVE

9. pumpkin spice latte at starbucks

ok, so let me confess that i'm not actually a huge fan of this drink. however, when pumpkin spice latte comes out that means that peppermint mocha is just around the corner. GLORIOUS!!! like many autumn things, this beverage is magnificent in theory, but its real purpose is to point to something new. and that's the coming of glittery snow and candy-canes.

8. halloween

obviously, i like halloween because i can wear nothing but underwear in public and call it a costume and no one thinks i'm weird:

{ahhh those teeth!!!}

so in real life, i love halloween so much. i love carving pumpkins and eating lots of candy. i love the creativity of coming up with a unique costume. i love witches and vampires and werewolves. i love how creepy trick or treating is. love it.

7. sam adams oktoberfest

this needs no explanation or comment. take a moment to savor the memory of your last oktoberfest. if you've never had the pleasure, then please stop reading my blog until you have.

6. political ads

probably oktoberfest should be before this, but whatevski. i love political ads because they are incredibly asinine. i love them even more because so many people take them as factual. dear people: political ads obviously skew the truth. and gullible is not in the dictionary. thanks, lindsay.

my favorite political ads are the ones with the whole family in them. so many opportunities for laughing at mom pants and 80s hair.

5. football season

i am a professional sports spectator, but football has a very special place in my heart. something about the violent beating of one another, and the fact that i can't even get my tiny hand around a pigskin, and the way pittsburgh just goes batshit crazy over the stillers. again, a classic opportunity to observe mom pants and 80s hair. woot woot!

my love of sports goes a little deeper though, and maybe this is the real reason i love football season. to use the analysis of lane kim from gilmore girls: "there's something greatly gratifying about stuffing yourself with fattening foods while you watch someone else work and sweat." amen!

4. apples and the apple castle

up where i went to college, there is this little local market called the apple castle. and they sell some of the most delicious foods of all time. in fact, it's like a top 5 list within the top 10 list:

*apples

*apple donuts

*apple cider

*apple donuts

*hard candy

yep. donuts are in there twice. they are just that good. i played scrabble with the 90something elderly man who owns the place. i won. no big deal.

3. cuddly weather

this may be the singular time i ever admit this. i love the disgusting 95 degree days we get in august around here. but there is nothing like a crisp night for my wool blanket or a nice cuddle with the right guy in the right sweatshirt. or the right pillow...

2. project runway

don't hate, fools. i love this show soooooo much.

{season finale tomorrow night!! go josh m!}

1. the beauty of death

on a more serious note, the thing i like best about fall is that the leaves are a reminder of the beauty of death. in the life of a leaf, it is most beautiful in its death. i think so often i am afraid of death, i live my life scared that it will find me when i'm not ready. this reminds me of the beauty life can leave.

even more so, i think about how Christ calls us to die to our old selves and lives. He calls us to take up a cross and follow him. he calls us to sacrifice. in a society utterly obsessed with beauty, it seems paradoxical that when we give up something of ourselves, that's when beauty most clearly shines through.

it's high time we accept our brokenness and our failings. it's high time we let go of what it is that we want right this second to instantly make our troubles go away. it's high time we die to ourselves and embrace the family of God. i pray that this is something you all strive for.

can i get an amen??

step up and dance...

the other day i was driving to work and the kiss morning freak show was talking about this asinine new dance move to replace the dougie called "the swat."

i had several thoughts (in this order):

1. crap, a new dance move? no one has even "taught me how to dougie" yet.

2. unless the dougie involves an imitation of doug funny from nickelodeon in the 90s, the dance probably sucks.

3. i've got to see this video.

4. i don't care how lame this dance move is, i'm pulling it out next chance i get.

the video was fantastically, epically terrible:

{swat it like a beeeeeeeee}

and it inspired me to come up with some of my own dance moves (or resurrect ghosts of dance moves past)...

raise da roof

{da roof da roof da roof is on fiiiirrrreee}

running man

once upon a time in 6th grade, this was my go-to dance move. now, i just look like a complete fool.

{seriously, how hot is this?!?! why am i single?}

seriously dude. find another move.

this video is a combination of the following: what i like to call "crazy eyes" {dancer thinks: if my eyes look crazy enough, people will think i am some kind of innovative dance genius}, what i like to call the "libra dance" {dancer weighs hands like the scales of justice}, and the worst dance move of all time that people perpetually pull out thinking they look cool. you know what i'm talking about.

slow fist pump

always appropriate for overly emotional songs. what i like about my dancing here is that it also exemplifies "team serious" dancers. their faces say, "i stubbornly refuse to have fun dancing to this song. this music is so serious, how can you possibly laugh."

'

telephone

yeah, that's right. i'm talkin' on my phone, it's just coincidental that the song is talking about telephones too.

that girl be craaaazzzzyyy

many of you might be thinking i've lost my mind by this point. well, i've even provided a dance for you.

what, what?!?!


some dance moves are so cool you just say, "what, what?!?!"

{sometimes you even say, "what, what?!?!" to yourself while you're dancing. it's because your so crazy.}

air guitar


air guitar is acceptable in the following situations: 1. when rocking out ridonkulously to 80s hair metal. 2. during the riff in don't stop believin when there are no words. 3. at junior high youth group. 4. anytime jimi hendrix is playing.

air guitar is not acceptable when the guitar part is the repetition of 4 chords.

get ready for a hodown...


setting aside the fact that this outfit alone would make my mother smack me for looking too redneck, i absolutely love it when people try to do line dancing to non-country music. or (as in this case) country music that really doesn't have that folk-like beat.

{note: although i do not know how to line dance, i feel this is more than acceptable line-dancing skill}

dancing with myself


nothing says pathetic more than single girls dancing by themselves or with another girl at weddings, dances...cover-band concerts...seriously ladies, keep the imaginary boyfriends to the privacy of your own bedroom...

{you can really tell that i ate an entire box of pasta and 6 meatballs b4 shooting this video, as i hold my belly like it's going to hold back the gurgling going on in there...}

so gangsta, i'm so thug


i love it when people try to pretend they are from the city. this totally includes myself. i'm from the suburbs. i don't even know where compton is...

{but seriously, how badass do i look?!?}

i hate men


throw out a "girl-power" or "man-eater" song, and it's like a switch gets flipped in the mind of every woman. and we turn into these crazy people with attitudes and get these attitude dances going on.

here i have not only a dance which includes "talk to the hand" and the "z-snap," but i'm also wearing seriously the most attractive outfit ever. completely irresistable.

{mmmhmmm...all y'all men better earn the right to talk to me. whateva!!}

this song is my jam


this dance move is truly my go-to. you know when someone gets so into a song and they start mouthing all the lyrics but you realize pretty quickly they know about 2 phrases from the song; the rest of the words they are singing are completely off. yep. this is exactly that dance.

{in the cityyyyy, of shmomp, momp}

i'm too hot to actually dance


lots of girls pull this dance out. sometimes it's because they are self-conscious of their body image and think they'll look silly dancing. sometimes it's bc they think they are too cool to dance. sometimes it's bc the dress they are wearing is too tight to actually pull out dance moves. sometimes it's bc they really need to fart.

the keith mccarty dance


every since i was a small child, my father has had approximately 2 dance moves (really one bc they're the same weird move with different hand gestures). and since we were able to do the dance, my brother and i have been imitating him.

{what's necessary for this dance: a completely redneck song to dance to. save a horse ride a cowboy would also be acceptable. and anything by jimmy buffet.}

overdramatic singer


this is the universally known dance for "don't stop believin." you know when someone just gets so into the lyrics of a song...and they just abandon all sense of what's socially acceptable and what's not. i'm actually a huge fan of this dance move.

master of karate


much like the dayman and mac from it's always sunny in philadelphia, i too am a master of karate (and friendship for everyone). and i have witnessed far too often people who feel karate can be a substitute for dancing. i sometimes like to call this the "jackie chan dance."

and on that note, i'll leave you to think of your own dance moves. please share with me what you think are the best dance moves you know. and by best i mean most ridiculous.

the day music died?

so once upon a time this summer i decided that i needed to learn more about music. not like reading musical notes or even musical theory but mostly about the history of rock and roll. i've always loved and appreciated music, but i am hopelessly bad putting an artist with a song title, naming lyrics {confession: i thought the "boulevard of broken dreams" by green day said, "sometimes i wish a polar bear would find me" instead of "sometimes i wish someone somewhere would find me." yep.}, and recognizing genres. so a friend of mine lent me a gigantic book from the rock and roll hall of fame that looks a bit like the book hermione gets out "for a bit of light reading" in the philosopher's stone....

{aka it is about the size of medium sized pet}

...and it reads a lot like a vh1 behind the music or e! true hollywoods story...

{which i am almost as much of a sucker for as top 100 shows}

although i am only in the 1960s in the book, i have decided to share some of my new, improved, and semi-educated brainwaves as a result of this book.

despite having potentially one of the most insanely lame names of all time, roy orbison does not in fact suck.

and in fact i find this to be true of many older artists (buddy holly, sam cooke, etc.) he's really not a looker either, and some people found him to be attractive. so, yet again i am forced to admit that i have previously judged a book by its cover and found myself to be wrong. you should therefore probably not ever listen to my advice or judgments no matter how forcefully i write them.

difficult bass lines are sexy. sexy like justin timberlake in "friends with benefits" sexy. not like justin timberlake in "bad teacher"--which is just vanilla.

i've always been a lyrics girl. it's the words of a song not the intricate musical patterns that stick to me and make me listen over and over again {even if i imagine that buckcherry is saying "i'm sorry i'm bill" when he's really saying "i'm sorry i'm bad"}. this book, however, talks about certain patterns and changes in music that make songs and artists unique or special. so i've been listening a little more closely, and i've found that i am attracted to bass lines the way that i am attracted to tall skinny guys: that's just how God made me. and today, in the car, i realized that korn's "got the life" {a seriously slammin' 90s hit} has a really sexy bass line:

{potentially, you may not find this sexy. potentially, you may find this video disturbing. i ask you however to listen in for the bass-line and see if your mind is blown}

the way to a woman's heart: frank sinatra.

so. frank. technically not a part of this rock n roll hall of fame book. but my appreciation for him has been growing a lot. it's potentially true that a man could ask me to lick fungus of his toes with frank playing in the background, and i would consider it for more than 22 seconds. i am definitely not the world's most refined woman {i just talked about licking fungus...i'm also a youth director. it's in the job description somewhere that all youth directors must use 60% of their vocabulary on fart jokes and poop humor...70% if you work with junior high}, but there is something about a man who holds a door for a lady and a night of delicious italian food {a challenge for me to keep my clothing unstained and my breath non-toxic}. it's that lady and the tramp moment every little girl dreams about:

{spaghetti especial-iani, heavy on the meats-a-balls!}

there's nothing new under the sun.

previously, i judged artists based on their originality and uniqueness. and i suppose there is some validity to that approach. but i'm not totally sure that anything is original anymore. or unique. when i think about truly great moments in rock history (elvis. bob dylan. the beatles. nirvana.), they took an old cocktail, mixed with something else, popped it in the blender for 2 minutes, and served up a brand new milkshake for the public. and sometimes it was marketing pretty much the same music in a different way. success in the music industry (and fashion and any other form of art) has more to do with timing than anything else. 

today's "top 100" songs ought to be printed on toilet paper.

dear today's adolescents: don't you want to hear SOMETHING that is not backed by a techno beat? the answer is yes. yes you do.

are we at a crossroads?

i find it really interesting that the beginnings of rock n roll bridged gaps between genres of music, creating a new one. that it took elements of multiple races and ethnicities to make groovin beats that everyone can listen to. it also appealed to a new audience: teenagers, a group of people who were just being born as a group to be marketed to. i've been told that today's music shares some qualities with this time period. that today's music seeks to be marketable to multiple genre listeners {you can see this in crap-tastic country music being played on every station...and i don't mean that as a slight to all country...} and multiple races. and one of the main groups being marketed to are "tweens"- or kids who are like 4th-6th grade. not quite teens, but children who have grown up way too fast {and been spoiled worse than veruca salt}. 

i will argue this. i think there is a major difference between mixing genres the way elvis did and watering down your own musical style in order to be played on every radio station like taylor swift. it seems to me like a lot of early rock n roll legends reached new levels of discovering their talents and identities in experimenting with musical styles whereas i think today's artists who actually have talent hide their talents behind a universal, synthetic beat and lose their identities as they say yes to too many people, groups, and places. 

i do find this whole idea of the new "tween" group interesting {maybe more than a little frightening considering how this affects sex trafficking...}. i'll be interested to see if i become like old fogies who thought rock n roll was for the riff-raff.

at any rate, like i said, i am just learning all this now, and i'd like to hear your thoughts. comment away, my friends!

a tale as old as time...

as i watch my favorite disney movie (potentially my favorite movie) of all time, beauty and the beast, after potentially not seeing it in years, i am left with many thoughts and questions...

• lumiere is a candelabra. his girlfriend is a featherduster. something in me says that is going to end poorly.
• how did i miss the fact that the beast is a textbook example of an abusive husband?
• will i ever watch the scene when they dance in the ballroom without crying?
• whatever happened to singing dancing musical numbers in disney movies like this? 
• why does every man in this movie have ridiculous looking hair?
• why didn't belle think through her actions before she showed a crowd with torches and pitchforks the enchanted mirror with a picture of the beast on it? that doesn't sound like love to me. it sounds like she's an imbecile.
• this movie is a bit more risque than i remember. a few moments of sexual inuendo, lots of violence, a couple borderline homosexual references. you even see a wolf die.
• where did belle learn her manners? her father seems to have only taught her to read.
• if the beast hadn't become a man before their first kiss, i wonder what plan B was...bc kissing with that 3 foot mouth full of teeth does not sound enticing.
• what are the actual words to "be our guest"? bc i just realized that the words i have been singing aren't actual words...
• "and as i always say, if it ain't baroque, don't fix it." i seriously laugh hysterically and out loud every single time!!
• today on jeopardy, the clue was something about be our guest and the title character belle blah blah blah...what movie. and someone legitimately guessed "cinderella." what, really??
• i still remember when my cousin and i thought it would be really fun to try to eat our mashed potatoes like the beast (aaahhhmmmm nom nom nom...). it was incredibly messy and we got in a lot of trouble, but you know, it did improve our romantic lives. no man can resist a woman hoovering her food with beast-like intensity.
• i wonder what would happen if a person really did eat 5 dozen eggs a day, like gaston. it reminds me of a guy i went to college with who would literally empty the bowl of hard-boiled eggs in the salad bar line every day onto his tray. we affectionately called him "hot scott" behind his back.

watching disney movies from my childhood as an adult can really change your perspective on a movie. in this case, i love this movie even more!! what are some disney movies from your childhood, and what do you think of them now?

griswold family vacation: virginia beach addition

as i write this blog, i sit sunburnt and sand-covered in our hotel room with my brother and parental units, waiting to engorge myself on yet another meal. this particular vacation has me nostalgic and considering mccarty vacations past. now that we are all adults (my brother just turned 21), our vacations look a lot different (and probably cost a lot more), and yet contain some of the same old traditions that have existed for years.

sunbathing rituals

mom and i love laying in the sun for hours and hours. we lather up in sunscreen, grab our beach chairs and a trashy novel, and plant our booties in that really magical place where the ocean meets the sand and trickles in a soothing way on your feet. it's one of those "words cannot capture my personal bliss" kind of moments. (followed quickly by some bratty child who kicked water and sand in my face...i am never having children). the only thing that's changed over time is my mom's and my choice in literature. my mom has graduated from the lord of the rings to the sookie stackhouse series to some nora roberts trash from the supermarket. i have evolved from the bible and charlottes web (for the 5 millionth time) to harry potter to, embarrassingly, sookie stackhouse...

ants in my pants...

as mom and i "glisten" in the heat of this fiery chariot and read supermarket novel after supermarket novel, dad and brother make it their personal goal to use every amenity the hotel offers. this includes:
*the ice machine
*the fitness room
*every machine in the fitness room
*as many towels as possible
*the hot tub
*the indoor pool
*the microwave and toaster
*shower caps
*ironing board
*cable...

the men-folk of my family simply cannot sit still.

sand in the netherlands...


when we were little, my mom used to say that after a day at the beach, we have a "sand poop." bc as children, my brother and i would literally sit directly in the sand and soon our bathing suits looked like diapers carrying a load. you'd rush to the bathroom and dump the pound of sand you've obtained into the toilet bowl. absolutely delicious. and by delicious i mean gross. now adays, it's like a goal every day to have minimal sand inside my bathing suit.

evening activities


as small children, my brother and i were picky eaters. so evening meals meant every burger and pizza place within 5 blocks. now, our family spends time hunting out steeler bars and interesting signs and t-shirts.

{22nd street bar and grill: a steeler bar at virginia beach with heinz ketchup and some of the best fried shrimp ever!!! literally felt like we were at home.}

{except we thought they weren't going to play the game. however, the 3 employees there looked around at the literal mob of steelers fans, and decided they could not go up against such large humans who feel it is attractive to wear yellow shirts}

{anyone who knows me knows this is soooo true of me!!!}

...

{this also reminds me of the aladdin moment when al says, "i even have servants who go to the marketplace for my servants."}

that moment...

when your family becomes more than people you share genetics with. that moment when you know you are with 3 people who know you better than anyone, who you can laugh and drink and eat with, who you can do nothing with. that moment when your parents become more than rule-makers but become friends. this is probably the biggest difference, and it makes vacations all that more special.

{my brother absolutely refused to smile in every picture}

{how cute are my rents??}

life is good today

roommate date: the tale of a beautiful disaster

today Truly Tricia and i had a lovely and much needed roommate date. what had promised to be a lovely evening of cheating on our diets, manicuring our nails, and having pillow fights in our underwear turned quickly into a serious ultimate low.

first, we decided to indulge in some wendys' french fries and chicken nuggets.

{lay off me i'm starving}

for the 11.7 minutes it took for us to consume our medium french fries and chicken nuggets, i had an out-of-body experience of pure, unadulterated bliss. however, i immediately regretted the decision to over-indulge. i began to have that feeling you get in your stomach: you know, when the contents of your stomach are jiggling like pudding in a bowl while gurgling like some of the instruments in the original willy wonka and the chocolate factory when they go into the inventing room...

{mm, roast beef and mashed potato! with sour cream? -- and yes, i do feel about the same as violet beauregarde. i need juicing}

so we decide to go to the new target that's just opened down the street from us. {we are truly sick.} so this new target has the absolutely coolest escalator in the history of the world. you can put your cart on the escalator next to you and it goes up...right next to you!! 

{this may be old news for some, but for me this new-fangled contraption is absolutely mind-blowing}

...

{it's also kind of pointless bc they still have carts upstairs...}

after spending about a half-hour in the $1 bins (in which i managed to almost buy plastic bowls, a foam ax, a cat-in-the-hat tote bag, war-head frozen pops, a complete phineas and ferb set of flatware...) we then spent another half-hour in the make-up section (came there for waterproof mascara. left with eyeshadow and new mascara...which is not waterproof). we then traipsed off to the home improvement section to find some more wall-hangings for when roomie moves away {currently, the owner of our entire home-decor is tricia...}. it was at this point that tricia had to actually sprint across the gigantic super-target to the bathroom in the front of the store to hurl up her dinner...

{somebody had to christen the new tar-jay!!}

later, tricia returned to find me perusing the underpants department {in the meantime, i somehow found the self-discipline to pass up a new iron, a portable island, a complete set of frog accessories for the bathroom, a new pink lamp, cast iron pans, a silk robe, new jars to keep my cereal in, the entire sharpie and post-it aisle....}. she had to leave again to be sick once more before i checked out. she then proceeded to tell me about the lovely person in the stall next to her. this woman came into the bathroom humming a sweet little tune. the musical mistress entered the stall {still humming}, only to make some apparently musical toots. the explosive diarrhea coming from this woman was continually accompanied by a combination of humming and grunting. as tricia washed her hands, the woman emerged from the stall {seriously? you wouldn't hide out in the stall until there was complete silence? isn't that like public pooping etiquette?). she was wearing spandex shorts and nun shoes, and was about 5 feet tall.

{i'm singing. i'm in a store, and i'm singing.}

needless to say we returned home rather quickly. i then had what my mother would call an "ass explosion" {ass explosion: noun. meaning: the completely liquid bathroom experience one has after eating a largely greasy and disgusting meal, the kind you need to make a mad dash to the bathroom for...the kind that sneakily seems like a fart but ends up to be sooo much more.... often happens in public. often precluded by a nasty gurgling in your tummy. pardon my crass-ness}. the smell of our bathroom was a combination between toilet stink, some kind of asian spicy food wafting down from the upstairs, and these wet rags that may or may not have been left in our closet for like 3 weeks. it literally permeated the entire apartment.

{a potentially better title: the cropduster}

all this to say... it may not have been the most perfect roommate date. but it's evenings like these that make great stories later. suffering together (in putrid odors and in fresh fragrances) is something that strengthens a friendship. it's that gut-wrenching (in this case literally) laughter that makes everything you experience in life worthwhile and joyful. it's like my mother has always said:

a friend you can truly laugh with is a friend worth keeping. you need that laughter when life gets hard.

who are the people you can laugh with no matter what?