So I've noticed a pattern y'all...
Every time I post something within a minute or two someone has gone to read it. I don't know if it's the same person but if it is OMG hiiiiii :)
You are my first ever fan/stalker and I so love you either way. It would be amazing if I could see who you were but I also kind of don't want to; 1. because I like the mystery and 2. because there's a very high chance that my mom is the only one that reads this.
Regardless of what the case is, I will try to stay interesting and at least remotely funny for you. Thanks for paying attention to my rants.
Love ya <3
Friday, August 31, 2012
To the Neil Armstrong of my Vagina...
I still
remember how we met. You were the first person I talked to freshman year. You
spent our entire high school career staring down my shirt. I remember whenever
I’d catch you doing it, you’d just flash me a smile and say it’s “the perks of
being tall”. You were always so
blatantly honest and shamelessly deceitful all in one that I didn’t know if we
were even friends half the time. Regardless of all the stupid arguments and
drama, I always knew you were going to be someone special in my life. Of course
at the time I thought that meant that you were going to be just another guy I
crushed on and got crushed by. Instead I had the revelation to make you more
than that. I wanted you to be a memory I’d smile about for the rest of my life.
Unbeknownst
to you, I decided to give you the most important possession I had. Once again,
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was a virgin and if it’s any consolation, you
were perfect. This is not something a lot of girls get to say. Most, I’ve
found, look back on their first time with regret because it’s tainted with the
heart break that followed. We weren’t in love, hell we weren’t even together,
but I knew it was right. I’d had boyfriends who tried to be the first man on
that particular moon but none ever made it past the launch pad. With you I was
completely relaxed. There was never a doubt in my mind whether or not it should
be with you.
It’s been
almost 5 years since that fateful afternoon, and I still have no regrets. You
were exactly what I needed at the time. You’re still exactly what I need
actually. I miss you like crazy sometimes. It’s not just the sex, which is
great by the way, it’s just you. Being around you makes the day better. You
always have something interesting or funny to say. You’re smart and driven and
just intoxicating fun. I wish I could say that we’ll see each other soon. I
wish I could say that we’ll have another chance to make all those late night
sexting sessions a reality. I wish I knew how your part in my story will
unfold. Unfortunately, the sobering truth is that we may never see each other
again. You live 1,000 miles away and neither one of us is going to make that
pilgrimage just for sex. We say we will, but we both know we won’t. Knowing you
and fucking you has been a thrill ride.
Forever
yours,
Nat (and
more importantly, the first few voyages into my deep space)
The one that got away or whatever...
I'm starting to think that maybe I'm the only one with complicated exes. Allow me to paint you a word picture;
Last night, while I was rocking an awesome wine buzz, I started going through pictures on my phone. Have you ever had someone in your life that you know you guys would be perfect together? Me too. Except, we don't see each other that way at all. Still I can't help but ask myself if I'm choosing the wrong people in general. Here is someone who; has the same sense of humor as me, can hold a conversation, has insatiable wanderlust (as do I), and is just plain great. He's what you'd call a "perfect on paper guy". I just can't, for some reason, make myself want him.
I say that I want certain qualities in a guy and he has all of them, in spades, but nothing. Instead I fall for the "where the hell did you find him" guys. Thug is usually my preference, but you can't date a thug and expect a gentleman. It's basically like saying you want Prince William but you end up dating Eminem. How do you change your taste? Actually not my taste, how do you change your attractions? Because I seriously need to stop going for the homeboys and start going for the good boys.
Last night, while I was rocking an awesome wine buzz, I started going through pictures on my phone. Have you ever had someone in your life that you know you guys would be perfect together? Me too. Except, we don't see each other that way at all. Still I can't help but ask myself if I'm choosing the wrong people in general. Here is someone who; has the same sense of humor as me, can hold a conversation, has insatiable wanderlust (as do I), and is just plain great. He's what you'd call a "perfect on paper guy". I just can't, for some reason, make myself want him.
I say that I want certain qualities in a guy and he has all of them, in spades, but nothing. Instead I fall for the "where the hell did you find him" guys. Thug is usually my preference, but you can't date a thug and expect a gentleman. It's basically like saying you want Prince William but you end up dating Eminem. How do you change your taste? Actually not my taste, how do you change your attractions? Because I seriously need to stop going for the homeboys and start going for the good boys.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
A fan letter to Taylor Swift...
Can I just
tell you how great you are? I’ve never really considered myself a fan of any
artist. I enjoy many different kinds of music but do not pledge my allegiance
to anyone in particular. That being said, I fan girl the fuck out for you. I
don’t know if you curse but I have a mouth like a sailor and I apologize for
that. Your music inspires me. Before I ever heard any of your songs, I thought
I was the only one who hurt so deeply when they had their heart broken. When I first heard one your songs I was going
through a horrible break up. Your words resonated with me so deeply and I was
instantly hooked. The main reason for my writing this letter is to thank you.
You have given us hopelessly romantic saps a voice, and a beautiful one at
that.
My dream is to one day be front row
at one of your concerts. Actually, my dream is to move to Nashville and we can
become friends and write songs together, but that sounds a little stalker-ish
so I’ll go with the concert thing. I’ve watched so many of your interviews and
I know all the words to your songs because I believe they are genuine. I may
not know you in person but because your music is so open and honest I feel a
connection with you nonetheless. I hope you continue to make amazing music and
that you find great happiness in your life.
With love
and admiration,
Nat
P.S.
Meredith is adorable.
A year ago today...
As you may or may not know, today I turn 22 years old. Call it nostalgia, remorse, or guilt, but this birthday has left me feeling everything but happy. You see, for my 21st birthday I gave myself an apartment. I was working a pretty solid job and the night before my birthday my ex (bribed with beer), helped me move my stuff out of my mom's house and into my new place.
I'll admit, my apartment was a hole in the wall. It was cramped, ill-conceived, and apparently a half-way house for every frog and lizard in the area (note: I am deathly terrified of both). Despite it's obvious character flaws, I loved it. I felt like for once I had something that was mine and no one could take away. I had spent a long time being continually kicked out of my mom's house because of my behavior/her being fed up with me. Having a place of my own to me signified the stability of knowing where I was going to sleep every night.
You'd think that because of all of this I would've busted my ass to keep it right? Well, you'd be wrong. Through my own irresponsibility I lost both my job and my apartment. This was subsequently followed by the worst year of my life. I won't bore you with the details but it involved; lost jobs, having no money, doing highly questionable things to earn money, theft, endless fighting, and bouncing from house to house because no one wants to support a dead beat.
This past year has left me exhausted. I have managed (mostly due to my mom's influence) to put back together some semblance of a decent life. I am now working full time and living with my mom again. I wish I could say with certainty that it can only get better from here but I've never really been good at keeping promises. For now, I'm taking it day by day and hoping for the best.
I'll admit, my apartment was a hole in the wall. It was cramped, ill-conceived, and apparently a half-way house for every frog and lizard in the area (note: I am deathly terrified of both). Despite it's obvious character flaws, I loved it. I felt like for once I had something that was mine and no one could take away. I had spent a long time being continually kicked out of my mom's house because of my behavior/her being fed up with me. Having a place of my own to me signified the stability of knowing where I was going to sleep every night.
You'd think that because of all of this I would've busted my ass to keep it right? Well, you'd be wrong. Through my own irresponsibility I lost both my job and my apartment. This was subsequently followed by the worst year of my life. I won't bore you with the details but it involved; lost jobs, having no money, doing highly questionable things to earn money, theft, endless fighting, and bouncing from house to house because no one wants to support a dead beat.
This past year has left me exhausted. I have managed (mostly due to my mom's influence) to put back together some semblance of a decent life. I am now working full time and living with my mom again. I wish I could say with certainty that it can only get better from here but I've never really been good at keeping promises. For now, I'm taking it day by day and hoping for the best.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
My love letter to vodka...
I love you,
honestly I do. I owe so many fun filled nights to you that I thought why not
pay a little tribute to the magical elixir that is you. I wish I was a poet so
I could write you a wonderful sonnet filled with all the beautiful things I
think of you, but alas, I am not. I hope you are content with this simple
letter. My favorite way to drink you is with Sprite and a lime wedge, although
after a couple of those I honestly don’t care what I’m drinking as long as I’m
drinking. I’ve always said that drinking vodka is a dangerous thing, and it is.
See, with other forms of alcohol you have a phase where you are tipsy and feeling
nice before you get shit faced drunk. With you baby, there is no foreplay. You
go from 0 to 60 before I can even notice (especially in shots). I remember very
clearly going to a club and drinking only two vodka Sprites and before I knew
it I was “allegedly” on my 7th cup and giving my friend Jeymi a
standing up lap dance (don’t ask). Its nights like these that make me love and
hate you.
While I had a blast that night, and so did Jeymi, it wasn’t exactly a shining beacon of good girl behavior on my part. If we were to compare alcohol to people, you’d be the bad boy boyfriend that you know you should leave but it’s just too damn good. But fuck it, I’m not exactly known for making good decisions when it comes to love. Sure, I’ve gone through phases where I was loyal to other liquors. A very compelling argument can be made to the fact that I’m still not over tequila, but tequila makes me slutty and so our affair has since come to an end. For now, I am a one drink woman, and baby that drink is you. I’m sure we will have many more nights of romance, where you will undoubtedly convince me to do dirty shameful things that I will regret in the morning. I look forward to them, and so does Jeymi.
While I had a blast that night, and so did Jeymi, it wasn’t exactly a shining beacon of good girl behavior on my part. If we were to compare alcohol to people, you’d be the bad boy boyfriend that you know you should leave but it’s just too damn good. But fuck it, I’m not exactly known for making good decisions when it comes to love. Sure, I’ve gone through phases where I was loyal to other liquors. A very compelling argument can be made to the fact that I’m still not over tequila, but tequila makes me slutty and so our affair has since come to an end. For now, I am a one drink woman, and baby that drink is you. I’m sure we will have many more nights of romance, where you will undoubtedly convince me to do dirty shameful things that I will regret in the morning. I look forward to them, and so does Jeymi.
With love,
Nat (or
whatever fake name I gave the creepy guy watching me give the lap dance)
On a happier note...
Tomorrow is my birthday!
To be honest I wasn't all that excited about it. My recent stint of perpetual unemployment has left me drained of all funds and DEEP in the financial hole. Thankfully I've started working a new job and will receive my first paycheck this Friday, here's the catch, because I'm so deep in the hole my first check will go as it easily as it came. The only thing I hope to gift myself is being able to bring my cat home (mom, if you're reading this please let me bring Sophie this weekend). Aside from that, I expected no celebration of my birthday and was relatively OK with that.
Then I spoke to my friend Phoebe (we've been friends since I was in 8th grade), and she was not about to hear that I wasn't going to celebrate my day. She invited me out to a pub-style bar in the neighborhood we used to live in and that is where I will be celebrating my 22nd year of life. Well, on Friday night actually because its never a good idea to go to work with a hangover so I'm giving myself the weekend to sleep it off.
I'm officially excited about my birthday :)
To be honest I wasn't all that excited about it. My recent stint of perpetual unemployment has left me drained of all funds and DEEP in the financial hole. Thankfully I've started working a new job and will receive my first paycheck this Friday, here's the catch, because I'm so deep in the hole my first check will go as it easily as it came. The only thing I hope to gift myself is being able to bring my cat home (mom, if you're reading this please let me bring Sophie this weekend). Aside from that, I expected no celebration of my birthday and was relatively OK with that.
Then I spoke to my friend Phoebe (we've been friends since I was in 8th grade), and she was not about to hear that I wasn't going to celebrate my day. She invited me out to a pub-style bar in the neighborhood we used to live in and that is where I will be celebrating my 22nd year of life. Well, on Friday night actually because its never a good idea to go to work with a hangover so I'm giving myself the weekend to sleep it off.
I'm officially excited about my birthday :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)