You guys. I have so many words to say and eventually I think I’m going to become very talented. But not for at least another decade and until then. Just a few babbles.
- This freelance adventure remains exhausting and wonderful. I’ve got about 56 hours of upcoming work in the next 5 days, but don’t worry, I’m mentally prepared.
- I’d like to ask God why he lets people love people who don’t love them back, from friends to relationships to family members. I feel like I keep hearing and experiencing the same story over and over. And please everyone reply to this query and explain.
- Just bought a ticket Boston to see the man who has loved me (and received various levels of disappointing response) for 4 years now. These past months we’ve finally came to a plateau of equal platonic appreciation and I absolutely cannot wait to see him.
- I’m almost tan and my hair turned red at the ends and Summer looks good on me.
- Martina McBride came to eat where I serve. Once upon a time I got the Miss Martina McBride award as my senior high school superlative and now nobody really knows or cares who she is, and she looks just like you’d expect an aging superstar beauty to look and I wanted to hug her but I didn’t say a word because really, what do you say?
(Source: 13neighbors, via apologeticsnstuff)
Once upon a time, when I still wore plastic necklaces and shirts with bell sleeves, I somehow convinced this super cool girl to be my friend.
She came from cool Nashville and she had cool artsy parents and she had a straightener and a curler and she knew how to use them, and she wore cool skinny jeans with cool studded belts.
I was dazzled by her coolness. I was a little awed that she wanted to be my friend. But I ran with it.
Back then, we didn’t have much in common. I can’t really remember even why we got along. I just know I really, really liked her.
The next thing I knew I heard people at school talking about us like we were a duo, never one without the other. I didn’t mind at all. As a homeschooler, I thought inseparable meant hanging out once a week, and sleepovers cemented the idea. High school has become a kind of fuzzy ball of teenage drama in my mind now, I can’t remember much of it clearly. I remember I went through multiple mental breakdowns. Whatever it was I was going through, I remember she was there. She saw me fight with my mom. We both had nights waiting for the other to finish closing our respective pizza places (except she always insisted on calling hers an Italian restaurant) so we could stay up late and talk about all our problems in our messed up teenage worlds. We hid in the bathroom at school so we could talk with no one listening.
The two single most traumatic experiences of high school were the days I thought a boy might take her away from me, and the days I thought her parents’ move would take her away from me.
Through my first year of college and her last year of high school, I was wary. This was the time we’d break up, right? No forced circumstances to drive us together. I never kept friends. Friends were only friends with me when I was the most convenient option.
For some inexplicable reason, my cool friend still wanted to be my friend. We still talked. We sat around dreaming about moving away and wandering the world. It was around then, both buying the same shirt and then a jacket we agreed to share, I saw how much we had melded. We knew the same music, the same movies, the same places. We dressed similarly. Too many times we came up with the same ideas and said the same sentences at the same time. Hopefully that meant I was getting more cool.
When other friendships stabbed me, sitting in my truck broken and crying, I immediately called her number. Her father got on the line and, just as lovingly as my own father would have, guided me through the experience. I realized that he knew how much I meant to his daughter. I knew this friendship was unlike any I had ever known, or likely ever would.
Upon graduation from community college, I ran across the ocean to Europe. Guess who I met up with? It was just as surreal as it was perfectly natural: all the way across the Atlantic, who else could I possibly want to be with? Who else would have sat on the street corner in Copenhagen eating ice cream cake with our hands, and sneak food from the hotel breakfast into our purses to have for lunch? Only she was cool enough for that.
I moved from home two years ago. The first year was the first time I had any friendship over the phone; I hated talking on the phone. So did she. But it was worth it. She came to stay; she was the only person who visited me. It was a perfect week: we spent most of it trying to be freegans and buying stuff from the weigh thrift store. Eleven hours apart, we couldn’t be called inseparable, and we both found our own friend groups. But by now Best Friend was a title I wasn’t afraid to use, and everyone in Nashville knew about my cool girl back in Maryland.
I don’t know what words to tell you how much I missed her.
I can’t talk about life since October. It’s too fresh. Only know that I got a roommate that was so cool I never wanted to go anywhere that wasn’t with her.
My last semester of college will forever be my favorite semester of college. And not just because my diet got so much more delicious and my wardrobe doubled.
Today she turns 21. I hoped I would be there with her, but we’re on to a new phase and it looks like we’re gonna have to get used to being separated again.
But don’t worry.
My best friend and I are inseparable.
You’ve changed my life in a million and one ways and I can’t imagine it without you. You are a seer and a dreamer, you’ve got brilliant intuition but also are a careful observer. You’re deliberate and free spirited at once. You’re an artist and a wanderer, and you understand all of my favorite things. I can’t imagine how a combination like you exists, I’ve learned so much about you but feel like I still discover completely new things I love about you each day.
I still know you’re the coolest. I’m still pretty awed you’re my friend.
When either our kids are looking at our old photos 21 more years from now, or we’re living together in a house in some far away place as crazy spinsters, I promise I’ll say you’ve been cool since 9th grade. And I’ll mean it, too.
Naps are tricky because you either wake up refreshed and relaxed or you have a headache, dry throat, and are unaware of what year you’re in.
(via somethinglovely)
It’s 4 am on a Friday night and, as expected all my neurotic tendencies are beginning to spill out all over the place, like to the point where the entire bedroom floor is totally flooded, and all I’m really thinking is, “am I a special neurotic or just a normal one?” because I really really wanna be a special neurotic, I would be so thrilled if I was, but I kind of doubt it because a special neurotic would be composing amazing pieces of literature or a symphony or something and I’m just watching Robert Downey Jr love scenes on Youtube, even the one that some chick uploaded to play to Britney Spears Gimme More (I did mute the sound though so don’t judge too hard).
Some people simply shine from inside. They just do. And they’re special, and you can’t tell me it’s not true. We are not all created equal.
Some of the shiners know they are, and some of them have no idea. But there’s just something about them. Something distinct in their eyes and voice and carriage, and most definitely in their thoughts. You can’t put your finger right on it; you can only feel it. You can feel it when you’re in their presence. Something a little higher, a little cleaner or dirtier, a little more intuitive and a little more graceful. Not graceful like pretty, graceful like stops you in your tracks with their mind processes.
These ladies and gentleman are the gems. Sometimes they’re gems that the whole world has discovered and become obsessed with their magnetism, sometimes the gems never leave their corner of the coffee shop or the guitar on their front porch. But they all have the same irresistible, drop-you-in-your-tracks qualities.
If you have a shiner in your life, you’ll have no choice but to hold them lightly, but enjoy every second. I’m sure you know they’re hard to keep. And they can make you hate your own lack of shine. But you’ll never regret a moment spent in their company. I promise.
Just saw these two stunners back to back. There’s something about men who are just….men.
I’ll let you know how many days it takes me to float back to earth.
For my first full day of life alone and adult, I watched Titanic for the first time.
And when she’s at the bow of the ship and he spreads her arms out and then he threads his fingers through her fingers I literally busted out crying without the slightest warning. It was the only part I cried at.
You have to read this. This is something I understand.
“I’ll never forget the day Marilyn and I were walking around New York City, just having a stroll on a nice day. She loved New York because no one bothered her there like they did in Hollywood, she could put on her plain-jane clothes and no one would notice her. She loved that. So as we we’re walking down Broadway, she turns to me and says ‘Do you want to see me become her?’ I didn’t know what she meant but I just said ‘Yes’- and then I saw it. I don’t know how to explain what she did because it was so very subtle, but she turned something on within herself that was almost like magic. And suddenly cars were slowing and people were turning their heads and stopping to stare. They were recognizing that this was Marilyn Monroe as if she pulled off a mask or something, even though a second ago nobody noticed her. I had never seen anything like it before.” - Amy Greene, wife of Marilyn’s personal photographer Milton Greene
(via somethinglovely)
This is Keith Richards. This is to remind us that underneath, we’re all the same.
(Source: pinterest.com, via theswinginsixties)
