be less liz lemon and more leslie knope
sleep SO MUCH more
stop growling at people
take more pictures
less panic, more disco
decide what you want
use the word “nice” more
be less liz lemon and more leslie knope
sleep SO MUCH more
stop growling at people
take more pictures
less panic, more disco
decide what you want
use the word “nice” more
It’s the most nostalgic time of the year.
This time each year I look back on other years and realize I do the same freaking thing in every single one of these posts — talk about getting over some boy and sharing the hope of falling in love with another.
I can’t believe I’ve done this five times. I can’t believe I’ve made five different blogs. I’m a monster. It’s a good thing there’s no consequence for littering the blogosphere with various levels of angsty personal writing compilations. I would be in serious trouble.
(Teacher voice) Let’s get started.
“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” — Roald Dahl
It’s so funny how January is always the most boring month of the year. That’s when my resolutions take into effect and when Everything Is Supposed To Change but it never does.
Only two interesting things happened this month. It snowed a lot, and I love snow — yeah, even that gray, week-old dumpy crap that’s left over after the frat boys turn in their makeshift sleds and freshmen have explained to their parents why they were in facebook pictures playing in the snow without all the winter gear they were sent to school with.
I wrote an article about a bit of a sensitive subject, which you know today as the story behind the great restaurant of Sup Dogs. I had to get a close-knit family to tell me the story of losing a darling son/brother in a freak accident. It went swimmingly, actually. My first major piece. From this point on, it’s all feature stories for me. No more of that hard-hitting journalism ish.
Song I really vibed to: Paris – Magic Man
“I may be disappointing physically, but I have great wit.” — Evan Peters’ character in Sleepover
This was, by far, the prettiest month of any relationship I have ever been in.
I worry that I’ll never find a love like this again, simply because I poured so much of myself into this love and now I’m tired and don’t wanna have to give that much effort again. Maybe I wouldn’t have to give so much effort to make myself feel so much if it’s the right person. Or maybe that’s an illusion made up by people who like telling dramatic stories. Onward.
Since the theme of this relationship is The Great Gatsby, or rather “dude whose obsessed with Leonardo Dicaprio meets girl who likes Fitzgerald’s diction,” going to a Gatsby-themed dance together was crucial. But one important thing about this night was that it was disastrous. I looked notably bad. But he didn’t care. Or, rather, he wanted to [redacted] at all costs. It was fun.
The month was littered with rambunctious trips to Walmart and little signs that this boy was so so funny and cute that I had to grab onto him and never let go and adjust to his quirks and get rid of mine. But somehow, that’s so romantic, and my head was in a constant state of spinning. Not from vertigo. From the promise of a husband who knows how to cook so I don’t have to and has great abs even though he works out like once in a quarter moon.
Obviously February is Valentine’s Day. The day itself came with a lot of contention because both my lover and I almost had our jobs take us out of town for the weekend, but our trips were canceled because of the weather. So it was lots of new restaurants on a whim, movies we didn’t pay attention to and we [redacted] for the first time and my life changed. This was it. This was us. This was it.
In academic news, we beat Duke and it was straight up dreamy. Ok, this is about basketball. That’s basically academics around here.
Song I really vibed to: Shot at the Night – The Killers
“Someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal relationship. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s poetry” — JD Salinger
Listen, I like, really care about television. Blame it on the fact I study it because I want to make it. Blame it on the fact it’s a perfect medium of entertainment and escape. Blame it on my consistently fragile emotional condition. But two of my favorite shows ended this month, and I was real sad.
Psych, for one — it was all my favorite things. Funny. Packed with 80s references. Dramatic. Emotional. Crime-y. Saturated with hot actors. It ended perfectly and I feel hollow sometimes when I realize it’s not new Wednesday nights on NBC (or USA).
And of course, HIMYM. Wow, that show threw me into a whirlwind. The getting-over-it comedy ended with a collapse on its entire premise and I was heartbroken. Don’t talk to me about it. Just kidding, do, I’ll talk your face off.
This month was spooky because I got to be right in the middle of the action when there was an armed person running through campus. Nothing like machine guns in the library to jerk you back into the real world.
On the real, March was a turning point. I got into the journalism school against all odds. I got into the Writing for the Screen and Stage Program despite my mom’s better judgment. I sealed the deal. I’m going to write.
We went to Disney world for spring break, which I was unsure about because I don’t like Disney and I can’t ride rollercoasters. But almost throwing up from vertigo on multiple occasions didn’t stop me from having an incredible time. What they say about having good friends and how that makes life better…it’s true.
Song I really vibed to: Migraine – Twenty One Pilots
“The sky is really beautiful right now, and I know I am often sad, but there are moments when I fall in love with the world and I adore all the oxygen inside my lungs and I’m not scared anymore.”
It was them month of meeting famous people.
First, I met RJ Mitte. I told him he had great eyes and he told me I’m beautiful and asked me why i was shaking. This man has touched Bryan Cranston. But this was particularly special because listening to someone speak about disability awareness harkened me back to the days of yesteryear in which i just wanted to be a special ed teacher. I hope I made the right choice in leaving that behind.
Then I met twenty one pilots, one of my favorite bands. The concert was astounding — the most entertaining one i’ve ever been to. their lyrics say so much about strength and mental health and i love them.
Formal this year was really, really important. Naturally there was a dance we were all supposed to learn, and I just could not learn it. I am so hopelessly bad at dancing, and James had such a bad attitude about it, I wanted to meltdown. But then…I won an award? I won best sense of humor. By a landslide, actually. And it didn’t matter that I couldn’t dance or that my boyfriend had a bad attitude. I won.
I celebrated a year with my dimple-having, red-blooded man. we made it despite distance and his passion for NC state that transcended my feelings. He tolerated dinner with my grandmother, watched a movie with me and we [redacted.] We planned our wedding and set up a timeline for the future of our relationship, complete with kids. Nice.
Song I really vibed to: Find Love – Stepdad
“I have learned that the furrows and riches of inconsistency and pain are the very contours that give life meaningful form.” — J. Nozipo Maraire
The end of school and beginning of exams meant a flurry of wonderful dates with my future husby or whatever I would have called him when I loved him. He took me to the zoo, he tried to take me to a concert, we ate a lot of Bojangles and chinese food, we watched a lot of movies and made fun of them and got shushed in the theater, we took a lot of naps, and the infamous poop date happened.
And we, well….made a mistake. [Entire paragraph redacted]
Saying goodbye sucked, but our farewell was full of optimism and promises of nothing tearing us apart.
So began my summer job of designing coupons for a planner company. Lots of long hours in an office. Lots of podcasts. Lots of lessons learned.
A girl punched me at a very hot and unpleasant Bastille concert.
Song I really vibed to: Do I Wanna Know? – Arctic Monkeys
“Perhaps, the problem is not the intensity of your love, but the quality of the people you are loving.” — Warsan Shire
I got, like, really close to Luke Bryan at a concert. I touched him. His butt is great. Lee Brice gave me a beer, and I did not drink it. James got really drunk and almost got arrested on a boat. Again.
I went to see James and it left me feeling optimistic. We spent pretty much the entire time [redacted.]
I lived in my room in the sorority house in Chapel Hill alone. Nights included a lot of television and frozen dinners. James stopped talking to me, he would maybe speak to me once a day. I don’t know what happened, but I stopped eating and I stopped sleeping and got really sick and all i did was worry about us. Worry about the guy who was supposed to take care of me. Worry about the future I had planned.
I don’t think I would usually hate working in an office but if all you have to do is sit and think about your unraveling relationship while you stare at a computer screen, it’s pretty awful. So more podcasts and more music and more figuring out how to hide that I’m on twitter on my work computer numbed the pain.
Also I turned 20. James ruined my birthday. He would not look at me or touch me the whole day. But we parted with a rare “i love you” saying we would never break up.
Song I really vibed to: Just One Yesterday – Fall Out Boy
“Not everything is supposed to become something beautiful and long-lasting. Sometimes people come into you life to show you what is right and what is wrong, to show you who you can be, to teach you to love yourself, to make you feel better for a little while, or just to be someone to walk with at night and spill your life to. Not everyone is going to stay forever, and we still have to keep on going and thank them for what they’ve given us.” — Emery Allen
James broke up with me the day after the fourth of july after not talking to me since he left on my birthday. He told me that he just didn’t feel anything for me anymore. After being together for so long, and by being an adult human, you’d think he’d expect to feel less for me as days went by. But alas. My charm wore off and my brokenness showed and he had enough.
I was on the verge of breaking up with him myself because I got a rush of strength when i had a horrible birthday. I dont have to do this to myself, I thought. But I didn’t want to let go of the best thing that ever happened to me because honestly I didn’t know how I’d ever find a 6’2″ French-speaking local TV personality with such a wide smile and the ability to play along when I talk in movies. So I let him win the breakup and I deleted him from everything, leaving all the amazing gifts he gave me on the front porch of his house. His breakup text from me is the last thing I ever heard from him.
I dyed my hair half blonde for the first time. Because I can do whatever I want.
I was hired to do my first TV writing gig as a regular writer for a website. I’m still steady doing this. Life is starting to go on.
I saw Fall Out Boy, which I’m ready to admit is my favorite band now.
I got my first big pay check for my first big writing gig.
Song I really vibed to: Drunk on a Plane – Dierks Bentley
“So plant your own gardens and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.” — Jorge Luis Borges
Being at home is weird.
I still have not gotten over the death of Robin Williams and I believe I never really will. I wrote this post about it in the bathroom of my office while sobbing and trying to get myself together. I hope in 2015 I’ll write a piece about the dangerous balance between comedy and depression.
Going back to school was really, really exciting. A new job, a new housing situation, a bigger bed, my own bathroom. Things were looking up for ol’ Kels. The DTH was hard because our desk dynamic had a lot of tension. But the problem resolved itself, and once I got used to my job, I loved it. I slept for the last time in this month, though.
Guys, screenwriting is really, really fun.
I didn’t do the ice bucket challenge haha oops.
Song I really vibed to: Drama Queen – Lindsay Lohan
“Be passionate even when no one else is. Who cares who’s looking? Their eyeballs only weigh two ounces. You have a whole life.” — JS
I met the beautiful Danish band New Politics.
I maintained my streak of never missing the fair despite my vertigo, even though I was only there for 45 minutes and it was mostly horrible.
I was blessed with a beautiful grandlitte, even if i’m barely in a sorority anymore this girl is the absolute coolest – so funny but so godly but so chill but so so so awesome. I love her and I love my little.
By the grace of my boss and a bunch of dumb luck, I go to go to Philly with the DTH. I was the least qualified person for the job probably but it was a blast and I learned a lot and I decided there’s no way I’m not going to live somewhere with a lot of tall buildings some day. Highlights include winning the pacemaker, developing a fan club and touring a tabloid.
Re my crush: I’ve never had so many people pull so hard for me to end up with someone. It’s a weird feeling and it doesn’t help keep things on the down low.
Song I really vibed to: Shut Up and Dance – Walk the Moon
“She had always wanted words, she loved them; grew up on them. Words gave her clarity, brought reason, shape.” — Michael Ondaatje
Did I mention how hard my job is? It takes so much out of me and leaves me with no free time. I love what I do, though. It’s so cool to brag about.
YAFI made and released our first quiz, which went viral. How crazy is it to be able to say something we did went viral. Our first real hate came in and honestly it’s a little empowering.
Some punk used my Facebook to poke a lot of people. I have no idea who it was. But my status explaining the situation was my most-liked status of all time.
A column about how much NC State sucks…I mean, making fun of state fans, resulted in more hatred and backlash and viral post-spreading I truly felt famous.
[Entire post about the nature of my crush changing dramatically redacted]
Song I really vibed to: Mind Over Matter – Young the Giant
“History isn’t written by the winners, it’s written by the writers.”
I cut my hair for the first time in a year and a half! After accidentally dying it pink of course.
Job searches are terrifying.
I dont have a lot to say about school. Just that it’s not the most important thing and my parents will continue to challenge that even though good grades in college alone did not help them get anywhere in particular.
December is so boring. It’s so hard to be alone so much. I’m excited to start a new semester.
Song I really vibed to: New Romantics – Taylor Swift
This was my resolution for last year:
“I’m not sure what I’ll do, but — well, I want to go places and see people. I want my mind to grow. I want to live where things happen on a big scale.” | F. Scott Fitzgerald
Did I do this? Absolutely. I’m proud of what I made happen in 2014. I’m proud that I decided I wanted things and that I went after them. And I’m happy that I’m free of that weird jaw tension I got whenever I was with James.
In lieu of a quote as my resolution for next year, I want to suggest a song.
Song I’m gonna vibe to: I Wanna Get Better – Bleachers
So is this a cliche? Maybe. Definitely. But I really do have to get better or else I’ll go insane next year.
So hey 2015, I’ll see you in 12 months for review.
Here’s my 2014 playlist until then.
can i call myself funny?
i know i can’t call myself smart (because it’s not really true) or talented (again, not true) or pretty (don’t start, okay? i know what societal norms are!) but can i call myself funny?
i feel, sort of, like humor is my consolation prize. i can’t sing, I can’t do math, I can’t do sports, i can’t even adhere to societal standards of punctuation. it’s just not how i’m wired. but gosh darn it, i can make a joke about any and all of my shortcomings at any given moment and even in one fell swoop.
its a swing and a miss right here in those 3 categorieeeeeeesss (off key)
i know life isn’t the sims and you don’t get an allotted amount of talent that some unknown force assigns to certain categories (attractiveness, friendliness, length of time you can go without peeing in the middle of the street and crying about it, other sims references, etc) but i do truly believe that it was kind of God to make me funny in spite of all the talent i lack in other areas.
so yeah, darnit, i’m funny.
and now i’m going to talk about being a girl, so buckle up, liberals, conservatives, communists, anarchists, scientologists — any potentially-offended groups.
girls don’t really get a lot of praise for being funny. actually, they’re pretty much always torn down.
i’ve never had anyone tell me “you’re a girl so you’re not funny,” but i’ve had people tell me it’s not attractive for girls to demand attention.
if you’re a girl and you’re the center of attention, you’re trying to flirt with someone. or you’ve done something bad. and you need to be taken down. sometimes by a butthurt dude, but mostly by a jealous lady.
ladies, let’s all conspire to build each other up, yes? if more of us are allowed to be funny, more of us will be seen. and more of us will be respected. and we won’t even have to think about other girls getting more attention than us because guess what! girls can be funny, not at the expense of other girls!
i know, i know. we’re past the point where we are supposed to think as women that our jobs are only to cook, clean and conceive. and thank god because i just burned a frozen dinner in my microwave (which i think might be haunted? it keeps making a howling noise. more on that later. probably broken. probably my fault. don’t want to close the door on haunted, though.) i’m allergic to dust and most supplies used to clean it up, and i have not yet tried the third thing but the odds don’t look good.
[transitional sentence redacted due to lack of creativity]
my first crush was on this guy who sat in front of me in science class in sixth grade. i did not fully know what his face looked like — only the back of his head — but i knew he was funny. that’s all it took for me to be in love with this guy for like three years.
okay, i know, that’s concerning that i have that capability. that’s a different blog post! but how come it’s not taboo to have a thing for a weird looking guy with a sense of humor, like, it’s cool that I am VERY into pete holmes. but wait, if a guy has a crush on amy poehler, that’s totally weird. that’s a confession.
i know that being quirky on the surface and deeply troubled on the inside is a ticking time bomb for me. but i also know that i have chronic funny girl disease when it comes to men.
And though I may be all wrong for the guy
I’m good for a laugh.
I guess it’s not funny…
and not to complain about the friend zone and all, because consent, respect, no one owes me anything, blah blah blah. but like, mom. just so you know. when i die alone, it wasn’t because you failed to raise me right. it’s because i’m no one’s type! ha ha !
my worth isn’t dependent on whether or not a dude signs on to deal with this until his death, i know!
this is taking a dark turn. let’s bring some optimism back into the game with a childhood reference.
my first catchphrase was “you’re funny, but looks aren’t everything!”
yes it was in elementary school. yes i did hear it from my kid neighbor. yes i did laugh quietly to myself about it while i spent 8 hours a day playing pokemon on my pink gameboy advance. you’re getting it now. i’m a giant cliche.
but i think that phrase is still really important. because it’s used as a response to a different insult. and the best thing you can do when someone gets you down, even if their insult is entirely true, is get into their heads and make them laugh. bring them a bit of joy. even if you aren’t smart or pretty or talented or anything else, you can make em laugh.
i’ve always been a little more awkward than everyone else, a little less good at doing my hair, a little chubbier than the ideal. all these things are detrimental to my image as a Good Female. but i’ve always made a way to make light of it.
making people laugh is getting in their heads. it’s like mind-reading with a dash of witchcraft because you elicit a physical reaction in them.
that’s so much power. even if you’re a girl.
even if boys don’t like it and girls don’t like you for it.