stomach bug vs. love bug

Over the past 5 years, I have had many self-inflicted illness‘ mostly pertaining to being over served on the previous evening. However, yesterday that was not the case. I picked up a stomach bug(most likely from the munchkins at school-thanks kids) and it was the worst.

Want to know what made it worse?

A boy.

Clearly the stomach bug and the love bug are not friends. Yes, I was supposed to go on a date last night and yes, I have blown this guy off before. But I was not excited to receive this snappy text:

Call me Ms. Predictable, because thanks to your attitude you should not be surprised by the fact that I don't ever want to go out with you now. Dear future husband, if I am puking, don’t give me ‘tude. Give me flowers and Gatorade just as those who love me did yesterday:

 

Wedding Ring Experiance:TRUDE

As a single "young desirable woman," as one of my good friends would say, I have just caught myself as a member of a whole group of women that I was sure I wouldnt jump into until later in life. No not menopause, but it does cause hot flashes. 

This stage of life is called the Wedding Ring Experience. Though Freud didn't put this stage in his developmental theory, I am sure he would agree that it is certainly a stage that all 20 somethings go through while searching to find a mate, but are shut down by a tiny symbol of "everlasting love."

So, here is how I knew I made it to this stage: As I was gallivanting through the airport on my way to surprise a friend on a 23rd birthday, it happened. I saw a Ryan Reynolds (purely by by stature), James Franco (purely by style) combination in line at Mickey D's preparing to order his food in line. Don't worry, I'm sure, that just like P90Xs own Tony Horton, he will work his meal off later.

Just as I was prepared to hop into like to order my happy meal, soley so that I could snag a chance to meet my special someone, there it was, that twinkling reminder brushing back  his beautiful wavey but tame locks, a wedding ring. The one symbol on a man that screams...TAKEN. A headline only worthy of the subtile "Trude." Trude (which ironically autocorrrects to tried) by definition means, that something or a situation is not only rude but it's also true. In the Wedding Ring Experience the subtitle is :"Trude" because it means that not only is it true, that this amazing creation will never be mine, but it is the rude awakening that one more man is off the market.

So for all you 20-something married men out there, it's about time for you to let yourselves go, so single girls like me can no longer be left in line with a not so happy meal and the desire to snag a married man on the reg.

Annieb to "Miss"

I’MMMMMMMM BBBBAAAACCCCCCCKKKK!

First, I would like to apologize for my long hiatus on the blogosphere, I know, all of you were very worried. We have almost made it a year without reconnecting and for that my friends, I am very sorry. Here is a time-line of what has happened since you last heard from me, touching on only the important events of course…

June 2011

I finished out my Eurotrip2k11 travels, here is the cliff notes version of the trip:

·         Paris: where a special surprise that a good friend from TCU coming along too, the Parisian ghetto and searching for wi-fi made it an adventure.

·       Switzerland: where thanks to Prince Oliver, Nadal, a king-size bed of mountain hiking strangers at a fly infested hostel and a large pot of melted cheese fondue made for a wonderful experience.

·          South of France: where without Wayne’s (World), Aussie Gods, broken luggage and beautiful beaches it wouldn’t have been the same.

·         Barcelona: where the Barcelona Babe in Liz found true love, in a 5 story night clubs, a man named Wolfgang and memories of wandering a beautiful city with nude beaches will never be forgotten.

·       London: where Uncle Sam is actually a Brit and we remembered to thank our lucky stars that we had parents that loved us!

All that said, I continued on back to America loveless. But, don’t worry friends, I didn’t come home completely empty handed, there were plenty of lbs (thank you delicious bread, beer and cheese) to keep me comforted on my long travels home.  

July 2011

Back to America! I ventured across country starting in Ft. Worth, TX, ending in the Outer Banks, NC. I was set out to finish my summer with love, tears fell in the Music City when an old flame fizzled, but then I was greeted by the masculine, buzz cuts of Richmond, VA who made me feel beautiful again.

*Something to note about traveling and visiting friends in their home towns, it doesn’t matter if you put on a few lbs in Europe and don't resemble Zooey Deschanel in the slightest, in a new city, you are always prettier because you are the NEW girl.

August 2011-May 2012

My life stopped as I knew it.

No more kebabs at 5am on the streets of Nice, France. No more hung-over My Best Friend’s Wedding viewings. No more taking the #senioroption.  No more gallivanting around with boys like Cappie in the show Greek.

I officially became a full-fledged ADULT.

With this came, arm-wrestling 6^th graders at lunch, tears over students getting kicked out of school due to drug use, a 9:30pm bedtime followed by a 4:45am alarm, 7^th grade volleyball games, smeared poop across bathroom walls, co-worker love followed by awkward high-five’s in the teacher’s lounge, smiling faces waiting for me in the gym at 7am, Harvard and MiT acceptance letters and four-square tournaments. Most of all, being an adult means a pure love and fulltime commitment that I never thought I would have without having my own kiddos.

Obviously, there is many a story with each of those things,  but I thought I could give you just the highlights. This all being said, my social life and hilarious stories have changed a bit. I still have some crazy Friday nights and insight into being single in a crazy world, but most of my attention is held by a real life combo of “Twilight” (minus the vampires), “The Hunger Games”(minus the reaping) and Dawson's Creek(minus the white people).

I promise I will start sharing my stories again, but for now, I will be swimming in teen angst on the reg.

lonely hearts club goes global

Have you ever tried to escape the real world? Because I have a case of the real world blues. Well, I had them them. Bad. So, instead of turning to hard drugs like the other blues brothers (John Belushi rest in peace) I decided to take a trip.

I am venturing around Europe in 34 days mostly because looking for love in all the wrong places seems to be way more fun then looking for love in the easy places (fraternity houses, bars, work, even church). All of the men listed in the previous places were either Good time Gary’s with no commitment (or other issues-if you know what I mean close friends) or Holier than now Hanks *names changed for sake of good interest). No what I am looking for! So I’m ready for the foreign love bug to jump up and bit me!

I am 15 days in and here is what I have found:

The Greek Island slogan is Open Your Hearts, which is exactly what I did, but falling in love on a donkey isn’t graceful. But, somehow I managed, Aussie men seem to love girls from Texas.(much more than texas men love girls from texas) The boisterous tour guide found himself loosing at a bar game to yours truly and loosing in the battle against love. He was swept away by my Coors “liiiight” y’all twang and seemingly blonder hair(thanks to our trips to the beach).

I broke his heart at the Sunset at Oia when an American accent of a Colombia Co-ed caught my ear and my heart. A good looking, smart, financial assistant in New York….yes please. Later to realize at the bar that he had dance moves of a baby giraffe.

I left Greece empty handed, headed for Istanbul in hopes of love.
So far all I have met are hairy men looking to “practice their english,” and have continued to find myself as a card carrying member of the lonely hearts club on the reg.

Ps. Don’t fret! I still have 19 days to find love!

Natural Disaster: Growing Up

Have you ever felt like the whole world was crumbling beneath you? I have, it happened on May 9, 2011. You may be thinking, ok she’s not from one of the multiple cities that has been crushed my these natural disaters(which is true) but I have faced a natural disaster of my own. Growing up. Yes, it’s natural, and Yes, at the moment it is a disaster. Or at least it seems to be a devastating as one.

May 9, 2011 was the day I left some of the best friends I could imagine. The day I said good bye to keg stands, bouncing, the student section tottys, and late-nighting(ok, maybe not but a girl can dream.) This was also the day that I said hello to, serving time on Albans(living with my parents), picking out dental insurance, considering a retirement plan, and receiving emails from my boss.

This day is a realization of bad timing, Realizing that maybe I should have given that (big) guy sophomore year a chance. (As he saunters across the stage with honors and a much slimmer physique) or worse starting to date a new boy (when he shows up to your graduation party with 20 of his closest family and friends that came in for graduation and having to meet them all.)

It seems from this bad timing that nothing good comes from this day. This day will forever be remembered as the worst natural disaster ever. The step into the real world.

Ok ok, I know im being a Debbie downer. Maybe I should look at the rainbow after the rain….so let’s give it a try: Realizing that I have laughed harder in the past 4 years than I knew was possible (also a plus that same laughter burned tons of latenight cals off). Realizing that through all of the bad break ups, hookups, and stupid fights there is always someone there to sit on the couch with and spoon feed my moral hang over with the typical “he’s not worth it,” “you are so much preitter than her,” or my favorite “I’ve done worse!” lines that are always soothing. Realizing that no matter where I am (Istanbul, dallas, new york, or Houston) there is always going to be that someone that needs meand knows me better than anyone else.

So now that I am sitting here thinking about the #realworldblues they don’t actually seem to be that bad. Hey, people always call me a natural disater and they always seem to come back for more. So as for the natural disaster of growing up, hit me with your best shot! I’ll be waiting to see what you can bring on because I know that even if that levee breaks there will be someone to pick me up on the reg.

NYE KISS

Who was your New Years Eve kiss?

Girls sit and plot and plan their whole entire night months before New Years Eve. What city, what bar, what dress, what shoes, what nail polish color, and most important what boy?????

From my opinion, it’s not really what boy, more like which kiss? Here is NYE, the stroke of midnight, from my perspective.

Different types of New Years kisses:

1) Peek-a-boo: 5-4-3-2-1-turn and kiss. This is a good kiss from a stranger. The person standing next to you in the crowd that you will never see again. The boy that popped up right at the perfect time, that you have no intention of ever seeing again, but it was a good filler for the new year.

2) Pity Party: You know that girl that hangs out with all couples. That girl that has beautiful friends with even more beautiful boyfriends but no beau of her own. That girl gets the pity party kiss. When it chimes midnight she blows her horn and everyone kisses around her. When the couples finally look up from sucking face this girl is twiddling her thumbs trying not to make it obvious that she is so shamefully aware of her kiss-less lips. One of the girlfriends always turns to her boyfriend and says, “Go kiss pitiful, boyless, kissless, **insert your most awkward friends name here.** She’ll like it.” Then it happens the pity kiss. A short, sweet, peck-the kind you give your grandfather.

If you got the pity kiss this year, don’t worry about it! You might not be that bad, awkward or terrible looking, but I do have a suggestion for a new years resolution: look for some uglier friends. Friends that next new years you can send off your new man to pity kiss them!

3) Wet-and-Wild: oh baby ohhh baby. Tweeddle-drunk and tweeddle drunker getting it on the dance floor always go for the wet and wild at midnight. It doesn’t matter if it is a boyfriend/girlfriend combo or two perfect strangers. The wet and wild is the drunkards new years kiss that may turn into tomorrow mornings wake-up call. When your friends point at you and say, “And YOU were making out with the midget Mexican man with the fedora on!” and you are horrified. This is what I say to you Wet and Wild kisser, good for you! At least it will be one for the record books, even if you don’t remember it happening!

4) Woopsie-daisies: These are the kisses that you wake up and when your friends ask the dreaded question and you tell them the answer they respond by saying something like “oohhh, is that going to be awkward now?” It comes in many forms. This is the dreaded, woops, I made out with my best guy friend, my roommates ex-boyfriend, my neighbor or I think the worst is ex-boyfriend.

The ex-boyfriend kisser wins the Woopsie-Daisies award. Y’all probably just patched things up. Y’all could all hang out in a group again and it was going well. He was even talking to some other girl he met somewhere else and you, ex-boyfriend kisser, kissed him.

For you, Woopsie-Dasieys kisser, I do feel bad because this could turn into a sticky situation. But look at it this way-the boy that was already in your life could be the right one, 2011 could be the year of good things for you two. OR, think of it this way, midnight is almost last year so put it in the package with the rest of your woopsie daisies from 2010 and move on.

5) Mr. Incredible: No, I’m not talking about an over sized blonde man in a red spandex suit. I’m talking about the perfect vision of a midnight kiss. The guy you were making eyes with at the bar at the beginning of the night turned into the guy that was getting you drinks turned into the most magical midnight kiss turned into the man your walking down the aisle towards…ok maybe that’s a little fast but every girl can dream, right?

Everyone had one of these NYE kisses. If you didn’t, you should have, why not start the year off right with something interesting? I personally was on a family vaca in the Galapagos Islands salsa dancing in the streets with randar Ecuadorian men (whitegirlproblems). Regardless, I am with all you non-kissed peeps and have every intention of finding Mr. Incredible some other way.

I’ll be out on the streets trying to relive my NYE to find him on the reg.

Parental Advisory: The Real Meaning

Have you ever questioned what that parental advisory sticker was for? Parent's weekend explains it all.

Parental advisory takes on a whole new meaning during parents weekend. I feel it's a time when parents advise their children on what profane language is acceptable after a long day of tailgating, what sexual referances can be used in front of your children when they get to college and other things that children never thought the their parents would say/do.

The weekend before last was parents weekend at my university, my last parents weekend at that. Parent's weekend is one of those times in the year that kids love and hate. But the parents always love. It is a time for them to act as though they are in college again. I, personally love it, and here are some reasons why you should too.

My Parent's Weekend T-10:

1)It saves you about $100 in your allowance that month. Hello new Michael Kors booties.

2)Filet Mingon: a French phrase that is learned early on but is lost to all college students until parents weekend. When they are here we get great food. FOR “FREE”

3) Self Estem Building. Incase you were having bad self esstem because your peers were always beating you at drink games, this is a great time to gain back your confidence. You are well practiced you should beat your parents!

4) Black Mail. Most of us go to dinner with large groups during this weekend. Parents have a few drinks and inevitably share some embarrassing story about your friends in middle school….and let’s be honest we all know our parents have those kinds of stories on us.

5) TARGET. Everything you could have ever dreamed of is bought for you!

6) Tail gating has better quality alcohol. Shot Gunning a Dos Equis is very classy.

7) Parents reliving their glory days. I had a song dedicated to me by a friend’s father’s high school band. Dad's are constantly talking about how their frat(even though you have never heard of it) was the best on campus when they were in school. Mom's are on the dance floor holding hands with other moms(that they just met) mostly just so they will all stay standing.

8)Ultimate Walk of Shame. Picking up your friends from the nicest hotels in town because someone else’s older brother was irresistible and they had to ride the elevator down with their little league soccer coach and God Parents. Shoes in hand, last night’s outfit, hangover make-up and all. This always makes for a good story.

9 ) Cougar town. It’s not just a TV show. Mom’s everywhere dressed in their white jeans and small shirts with their plastic parts out to play. This is great for the boys and hysterical for us girls to watch in action.

10) Clarity. Finally understanding where you came from. They like to party. You like to party. It all make sense.

Even though it was my last parents’ weekend, I’m glad I now know how I will be at my children’s parents weekends. Starting now I’m counting down the days to Mom’s and Dad’s weekends on the reg.