Mutha Naytcha Strikes Again!

Welcome back to the 2010 Meteorological Match Between the favored Mother Nature, and the underdog, Civilization.

To recap last round highlights:
One Point Mother Nature: Lotsa Snow in DC
One Point Mother Nature: Surprise! Earthquake in Haiti
One Point Civilization: Earthquakes in California and Chile, but we survived!
One Point Mother Nature: The entire state of Massachusetts = underwater
One Point Mother Nature: An Icelandic Volcano? Really?

At the quarter, Mother Nature is beating civilization by four.

Round 6: Ding!

Well, well, well, hello there giant oil spill in the Gulf! It seems as though Mutha Naytcha got a bit bored of the [suspiciously] quiet spring and decided to throw a little action into the lives of Americans… I mean who doesn’t love a good tar ball while at the beach. Sadly enough, Mother Nature has singlehandedly squashed the esteem of America, and taken the Gulf wildlife, and newly revived livelihoods of those living in the gulf ( you know, since that other little ditty known as Katrina) with it. Only thing going up? Gas prices…oh, and political commercials attacking Scott Brown for his stance with oil companies (because its definitely Brown’s fault that the oil spill is happening, not BP’s…) One “Well, at least we aren’t thinking about shark attacks” point: Mother Nature.

Round 7: Ding!

No Canadians, you are not completely crazy, you did just feel a 5.0 magnitude earthquake. Hold onto your poutine! (I can say that, I’m Canadian.) Again, Mother Nature decided to de-bench an unlikely hero for the MN team. That fault line in Canada hasn’t been given playing time in decades, time to let her shine. Luckily for civilization, there isn’t too much going on in Canada and its surrounding areas (besides the overwhelming metropolis that is my alma mater), so civilization came out relatively unscathed. One “maybe you can fix the oil spill” point: civilization.

Round 8: Ding!

With over 60 days down and 83 million gallons (and counting) of oil already polluting the Gulf, and no foreseeable end in sight, you’d think that Mutha Naytcha would cut civilization some slack. I mean, what did we do to deserve all of this? (besides depleting the ozone layer and maybe even slightttlyyy contributing to global warming) Clearly being a sore winner, MN brings out the big guns. Enter Hurricane Alex.

Hurricane + oil spill = Catastophe. For [at a very minimum] two reasons.

One being because of Alex, skimmers and other preventative measures have been slowed, halted or damaged all together. The second being because of the worst case scenario: the Gulf stream (for lack of a more scientific name.) With the waters stirred up in the gulf, it is possible that oil is going to be pushed into the current-thingy-ma-bob, carried around Florida and up the east coast. EEK! Panic! Anxiety! (To which I then revert back to my new years resolution and say to myself: “Self, you cannot stress about the things you cannot control.”) One “where is the mercy rule?” point: Mutha Naytcha.

Stay tuned for the halftime report.

Ca"free"ine?

I am the only 20-something out there not completely and totally addicted to caffeine.

Its true.

This morning, I realized that I haven’t ingested caffeine since the Diet Coke I had on Thursday night. That is five days of living sans caffeine.

I am strong (strong). I am invincible (invincible). I am woman! (Okay, bad Sex and The City 2 quote?)





But really, this might explain the constant fatigue and heachaches?!

Is That...Bees?!

Whoever invented that obnoxious horn that people use at soccer games, please step forward.

This is an intervention.

Why, in the name of all things holy, would you invent a tool that creates such a loud, obnoxious noise? I mean I am all about noisemakers, megaphones and birthday horns, and of course team spirit, but I am not for a noise that, when combined with other like noises, sounds like a swarm of angry bees.

I see you feel as though you need to provide soccer fans with a) something to entertain them and b) something to make noise with. I feel that we can come up with an alternative to said bee horns, not only because they are annoying, but also because they do not serve a purpose.

Yes, you heard me. They do not serve a purpose. Why not? Because fans for both teams use the same horns which produce the same sound. Your tool doesn’t entice your team to win, because the players don’t know if you are blowing the horn for their great defensive move, or for the other team’s stellar offensive move. They can’t see that you are holding a blue horn versus a red horn, jerk.

That being said, lets discuss and create a better game plan for the 2014 World Cup.

Perhaps to entertain the crowd, you can start the wave or mass produce giant foam fingers. Those are always a huge hit. Feeling a bit more mod? Why not create team Silly Bandz in the shape of your mascot or country? Those are popular with every age!

To promote team spirit, perhaps you could create a feisty cheer, or lead the crowd in a slow clap. That will be sure to get them going. If you are feeling especially gregarious, maybe it is best to lead your section in a distracting song or something of that nature.

Really, the opportunities are endless!

Lets put an end to this horn business, and move onto something bigger and brighter.

Thanks!

Love, Kristin
(and the entire fair-weather soccer fan base of the world)

Viva MJ!

I think that June 25 has become one of my new favorite days of the year, aside from July 9 and December 25, and Marathon Monday.

Why?

Because I have realized that every year from here forward, June 25 will be a day of Michael Jackson marathons. Yes, on two of our local stations, they are celebrating the life of MJ by playing his best songs on repeat. Um, Yes.

This is easily the best Friday ever.

So, because I am wayyyy too distracted by the legend that is MJ, I will keep this blog short and sweet. You are welcome.

My Ten, No Fifteen, Favorite Michael Jackson Songs.

1. Thriller. Because we all know I can’t resist jumping into that dance.
2. Man in the mirror
3. I want you back. Brings me back to the glory days of me, an intense fro wig, and tri delta.
4. Don’t stop til you get enough. Our dance team sit up song. Over. And. Over.
5. Black Or White
6. PYT. Thank you to fourth floor Whitman for introducing me to this gem.
7. Bad
8. Billie Jean
9. Beat It
10. Blame it on the Boogie. A new favorite, but a keeper nonetheless.
11. Smooth Criminal.
12. Scream.
13. The way you make me feel
14. The Free Willy Song, also known as Will You Be There
15. We Are The World

oh, and tgit

A special TGIT a la LA from last week...

Good: this is George Lopez playing with the new Kinect, one of the many celebrities I frolicked around with last week.
Great: I was surrounded by camera crews. Camera crews= TV shows. TV shows= exposure. Exposure= fame. My door to fame was literally before me.
TGIT: I forgot to DVR the “Lopez Tonight” episode that included my 15 seconds of blurred out fame. It now only lives in my memory. Sigh.

THIS IS MY 100TH BLOG POST

To honor the achievement that is my centennial celebration, I am listing 100 things that make me happy.

So here they are, in no particular order. Ahem.

1. Swedish Fish
2. Reality Television
3. Boston, MA
4. The New York Football Giants
5. Gin
6. Air Conditioning
7. second chances
8. Babies (not crying)
9. Los Angeles, CA
10. a really solid, hearty laugh
11. facebook
12. the smell of rubber cement
13. partaking in a really fun game
14. Goldfish
15. water cold enough to feel when it travels to my stomach
16. Peanut Butter
17. Flip Flops
18. Marnie's Bloody Marys
19. "Bette Davis Eyes"
20. Caprese Salad
21. Extra dirty, extra cold vodka martinis
22. a really good hug
23. Goldfish
24. The Tick Tock Inn
25. a Hot Mikey's Special with ranch
26. when I know I am right
27. ice cream with sprinkles
28. sun dresses
29. tans
30. knowing the bartender
31. indian summer
32. pool floaties
33. html code
34. spicy tuna rolls!
35. Mel's Cafe
36. the feeling I get when I finally get something off my chest
37. Dance Parties
38. money!
39. White Cheddar Cheez-Its
40. My mom
41. My dad
42. the beach
43. the smell of basil
44. Sass the Saab, despite our differences
45. sleeping in complete darkness
46. dancing
47. a hot shower when I am freezing cold
48. a cool shower when I am dying of heat
49. Law and Order: SVU
50. the elliptical
51. people watching
52. Martha's Vineyard, MA
53. Forever 21
54. college memories
55. an old fashioned BBQ
56. hot tubs
57. sharpies
58. an intense rainstorm
59. laying in front of a fireplace
60. waking up without an alarm
61. finding the perfect birthday/thank you/just because card
62. clean sheets
63. mi familia
64. Rye Beach, NH
65. Halloween
66. day drinking
67. a good Farmers market
68. a cool night on the beach
69. when someone asks for a business card
70. driving with the windows down, and the music up
71. getting mail that is not a bill
72. watermelon ballers
73. peanut m&m's
74. family dinners
75. Christmas Eve
76. finishing a puzzle
77. freshly popped popcorn
78. re-watching my favorite childhood movies
79. coconut popsicles
80. warm towels
81. fresh bread
82. raw cookie dough
83. bubble wrap
84. thunder
85. great coffee table books
86. nude nail polish
87. lobsters and corn on the cobb
88. when I do really when in Jeapordy!
89. warm socks
90. bowling
91. lazy summer days
92. Mexican Food
93. flannel sheets
94. avatar sunglasses
95. playing with my hair
96. a great candid photo
97. scratching an itch
98. kareoke
99. vacattttioonnnsss
100. Super Mario Brothers

What things make you happy?

Just Dance.

Its recital season, and that means one thing, and one thing only for a dancer.

Dance Costume Anxiety. (Shriek, Gasp, Dun dun dun.)

Yes, if you have ever been in a dance recital, you know exactly what I am talking about.

My bad recital outfits? Highlights include cow print, pleather pants with red pleather vest, and matching cow print cowboy hat, as well as the two piece belly shirt, bring pink, feathered arms, somewhere between a flamingo and Toucan Sam.

As a general rule, there are certain years when you are safe from the scarring costumes.

The first years are those when you are a blossoming dancer. Dancers ages 3-6 are just too precious to deck out in crazy costumes, not to mention teachers know better than to put babies in anything that will anger their mothers. Trust me, mothers will freak out when their 4-year-old-soon-to-be-professional-ballerina is in a costume that makes them look anything but adorable, I mean they do pay $75.00 a month, and expect nothing but the best for their prima ballerina. My debuting costume? I was decked out in a Red Tulle number with white polka dots a la “Little Orphan Annie” and thought I was simply the best thing that had ever graced the stage. We have home videos to prove it.


The second time frame you are free of dangerous costumes is at the tale end of your high school dance career. By this point, usually you are in costumes that compliment your lines and “wow” the crowd. By now, you are a company dancer, as well as a student demonstrator and/or teacher, and your job is to sell the company so that parents of dancers can brag about “their” company, and also to lure new students to the company next year. I remember salivating at the thought of making it to senior company, even just for the costumes, never mind the status. Comprende?

Ages 7- 14 you are at risk for getting a dud costume. It is during these years that I began taking multiple dance classes, and always ending up with at least one costume that made my eyes twitch when I removed it from the costume bag. Think feathers, pleather, sequins, glow in the dark, 2 pieces, and offensively bright colors…often at one time.

It was at this age that I became very familiar with one of the golden dance costume lines fed to us by our teachers: “Oh, this costume is going to look amazing on stage.” Translated, this line means: “I know this costume is absolutely heinous, but I am the teacher and the only way I can get all of you into this atrocious thing is by lying and telling you that it magically transforms into a vision of tulle once you are on stage.”

These girls were most likely told that their costumes were going to “pop” on stage. The teacher most likely forgot to mention that they were going to resemble baby tigers with thunder thighs.

Same with this girl, but her’s will be a crowd favorite because when she lifts the skirt as shown, it will glow in the dark. I fell for that one...that was a rough year.

These girls were told that they were going to have props, so their costume was going to be the best one and the most fun for the crowd to watch. They forgot to mention the possibility of the shorts riding completely up their cheeks, and sharing a full wedgie with the entire audience. Oh, and be careful, the bottom of those boots are most likely slippery!

It was a reflective moment in my life when I found myself spitting the same line to my students that my teachers had once said to me. I admit, I felt a bit bad, but I honestly believed it was going to look cute on stage. I mean, it couldn’t look much worse!

RIP Vienna and Jake.

This just in.

Vienna and Jake have split up. Is anyone surprised? Doubtful.

Jake, here is one big, fat “We told you so” from the entirety of your female audience.

Lets compare, shall we?

Meet Tenley, the dancer gone college FIDM Admissions Director. When Tenley isn’t too busy being an admissions director of one of the most prestigious design schools in the country, she enjoys dancing and playing with puppies (okay, I made that last one up, but I mean she definitely likes playing with puppies.)

Biggest flaw? She speaks like she is straight out of a Disney movie, and doesn’t have a day that doesn’t include pillow fights, rainbows, feathers, lollipops and other happy, pretty things (I mean, that has got to get annoying sometime, right?)

Meet Vienna, the college sorostitute gone, well, white trash. Prior to the show, Vienna resided in the FLA, where she lived with her [seemingly creepy and partially incestual] father and newly purchased boobs [paid for by her deployed ex…welcome home, hunny!]

Biggest flaw? Um, do I have to pick just one?

So Jake, who do you pick to spend the rest of your life with? The 26-year-old Disney Princess who has never sworn in her life and is looking for true love and a family, or the 23-year-old up and coming actress/“Oh, you may have seen me on ‘Girls Gone Wild: Season 2’ ”/model, who is still looking to model for Playboy?

Good choice Jake, I definitely would have chosen Vienna too, dink.

Jake will join his other 13 Bachelor gone-wrong colleagues, who also haven’t been able to stay with the “soul mates” they found while on the show. Meanwhile, Trista, the first bachelorette, is still happily married to the heartthrob she chose many years ago.

...And We're Back!

Hello friends!

I have arrived home from my week of business, weddings and family. Don’t lie; I know you missed me.

So that you may feel up-to-date on my life since my last post, I have put together a small hit list of the week’s highlights. Don’t say I never do anything for you.

My week by the numbers:
5000. Total miles traveled by plane to and from LA.
8. Total number of nights where I have not slept in my own bed.
2. Total personal hotel rooms.
5. Total number of cabs. (Yes! I was very green and walked.)
45,600. Official number of attendees who attended E3 Expo
16,093,044. The [slightly over exaggerated] number of static clings I applied to hotel mirrors located around the Los Angeles Convention Center.
300. The amount of deluxe hotel rooms I saw while applying said clings (and may I recommend the JW Marriott and the Ritz, should you find yourself bunking up in LA.)
53. Amount of miles I walked between Monday and Thursday…most of which were in flip flops.
5. Total pieces of bacon consumed.
1. Total number of attendees who asked me where they could kill people.
1. Total number of attendees who were escorted out after said comment.
2. Number of reality shows that I may appear in, with a blurred out face, of course.
100. Number of actors (dressed as North Korean soldiers, constantly yelling “hut”) I corralled around the Los Angeles Convention Center on Tuesday afternoon
1. Total number of people who swore at me because I wouldn’t grant them a complementary pass
45. Total minutes I spent wheeling my luggage around the Staples Center during the last minutes prior to game 7 of the NBA finals.
5. total number of hours I spent on a red eye home, complete with “Boston sucks!” chants, led by our captain and crew (thanks, jetblue!)
1. number of weddings I went to.
3. number of catering personal who questioned my ID and made my cousin feel uncomfortable, who I then had an altercation with.
23. number of Bandz I have collected. Yes, those elastic bands that snap back to a cool shape. Yes, I am wearing 3 right now.
33+. total number of alcoholic beverages I have had since Sunday night. Oh, hey Senior Week 2010.
45. Total hours of sleep I have gotten in the past 8 days.

"Red"dy, Set, Go!

Saw this ditty on my drive into work. Eyes on the road, Kristin.

Advertising at its best.

Discuss.

Okay, I will share my thoughts first.

1) Ginger infused vodka? Probably not.
2) The model is a red head. I mean, its only appropriate to have one ginger representing another, and they are an endangered species. I love advertisements that make me giggle, so Mazel Tov, Skyy, you actually made me L.O.L, and we all know how much I hate having to admit that I in fact laughed out loud.

3) Holy soft hair. This could double as a Pantene Pro-V commercial.

TGIT

TGIT all.

Good: we have a used book store in town, and just like Carrie, I also enjoy the smell of read books.
Great: the books are dirt cheap. It is actually offensive how cheap the books are.
TGIT: Apparently too cheap to hire someone to proof their front sign? Correct me if I am wrong, but shouldn’t they have used the word “barely” as opposed to “bearly?” I am all for creative names, (I mean I am opening a bar [someday] called The Naughty Pine) but I don’t see any bear theme that would prove correlation to the [un]intentional name misspell. I think they should re-evaluate their proofreader sooner than later. Looks like someone else needs a weekend too.

Lyfe Strugglezzzz

My life is made of major and mini struggles, you know, in addition to my constant inward monologue and awkward pauses.

This is this week’s struggle.

Meet this small, but manageable suitcase.

I leave for sunny Los Angeles on Sunday morning. Los Angeles means airport. Airport means suitcase. Suitcase means packing. Packing means Anxiety.

I have opted to avoid reliving last year’s LA packing catastrophe, where I was that girl. Last year, I realized that I have severely over packed when I had to pull the “get on the scale and weigh yourself with your luggage to make sure your suitcase isn’t too heavy” move. I was only going for one week, there was no need to even approach the suitcase weight limit, yet somehow I managed to exceed it…on the way back.

Yes, I was that girl who had to throw out all her toiletries because I refused to pay the “my bag is too fat” fee. My bag had miraculously gained 8 pounds while in LA, yet I hadn’t purchased anything to cause such a change. I felt better knowing I wasn’t the only one who had put on a little weight, thanks a lot Pinkberry. At any rate, there were stress tears, but luckily I had gone through security without any coworkers to witness my said breakdown.

Fast forward to present day. I feel the need to pack my back to capacity, always. In order to not overpack, I need to choose a suitcase of manageable size. This means that I need to pack my entire life within the size constraints of said suitcase. I can feel the packing anxiety building already. Lyfeee Strugglleezzzz!

So, what do I do? I obviously make a complete listing of everything I need for LA, by day and outfit to ensure that I do not forget anything, but that I only pack the essentials. Did I mention I am the daughter of a packaging engineer? Did I also mention I am an extreme over packer?

At any rate, I usually start said list four days prior to departure, which would leave me starting my list, well, right now, but packing is #6 on my “Top 5 Most Important Things To Do” list, so I guess this is going to be one of those “throw and pack” scenarios that I usually get myself into. The “throw and pack” is usually a marathon of laundry, folding, shoving, and over packing, where I ultimately need to either remove clothes that I think I won’t need (which I almost always need at some point on my trip) or upgrade to a larger suitcase. Humph.

So, its just me vs. the small, but manageable suitcase.

Stay tuned for documentation of said match up. I will win.

My day a la randoms

• I prefer to eat ice cream with a fork
• I found out that “How to Train Your Dragon” is a movie, so now I feel like a nincompoop for thinking people searched how to literally train a dragon in my Google blog
• It is a fact. I need to start wearing my glasses. Every. Day. At this rate, my squinting will prematurely cause crows feet by age 30. Stop squinting, Kristin.
• I have listened to Gaga’s “Alejandro” on repeat for the majority of my day. You should probably listen, and watch the video here. You are welcome in advance, Mary, but maybe don’t watch it at work.
• I have been to Philadelphia. This may not seem significant to you, but it seems I completely erased my weekend trip to Philly a la 7th grade from my memory. I just remembered today on my way to work of said trip. Yet another example of my early on setting Alzheimers.
• I still haven’t learned how to control my facial expressions and/or reactions.

Relationships For Dummies?

Alright, it is time to make my [just slightly neurotic] theory on relationships public.

In a relationship, you are either independent or dependent. I am not talking about the “I am completely self-reliant” independent or the “I can’t survive on my own” dependent, but rather those characteristics within a relationship.

If you are the independent person in your relationship, your world doesn’t revolve around said relationship. Your relationship is one [very important] aspect of your life, but you take part in many other things. You enjoy seeing friends and meeting new people, but you feel complete when you have your partner close to you, although you don’t require it to survive.*

If you are the dependent person in your relationship, your reality is consumed with your relationship, in a non-creepy sort of way. You have incorporated your partner into all aspects of your life, and want your partner to do the same. You want to spend all your time with your partner, and have made a social group of friends where you can be both with your partner and friends at the same time. You don’t understand couples who can carry on separate lives but be completely happy together.*

*I believe that an individual can be an independent or a dependent party, depending on their relationship, and it is very possible for a person to evolve from one to another.

Both of these types have their pros and their cons, and each of these types react and live in different ways. Now, how do these types weave into one another?

Kristin’s Dating Analogy:

An Independent can successfully date an Independent.

Why? Because each party appreciates their alone time. They do not see distance as a threat to their relationship, and are happy together but enjoy space at the same time.

A Dependent can successfully date a Dependent.

Why? Because each party likes being with one another as much as possible. Doing things as a couple reduces jealously that can populate from either party, even though they both like doing most things together anyway.

An Independent cannot date a Dependent.

Why? Because the more space the Independent wants, the harder the Dependent tries to hang on. While the Independent needs space in order to function, the Dependent sees space as a threat, and becomes increasingly anxious.

So, that’s my theory, and yes there maybe be loop holes, and exceptions to the rule, but I think that my idea serves as a good theory overall. Hopefully, this theory won't come back to bite me in the arse.

Spoiler Alert: Sex and the City 2

Reality Check: SATC2

For every realistic scenario Sex and the City 2 portrayed, the cast will receive positive points, for every unrealistic and/or tacky scenario, they receive negative points.

Let us begin.

FYI. Stop reading if you don’t want me to ruin the entire plot for you. Seriously, stop reading right now.

(+1) Gays getting married (Hello, I live in Massachusetts, it is very legal here.)
(-2) Carrie wearing that ugly tux…and what was that on her head?! Maid of honor? No, princess of darkness.
(-4) the over-usage of white and Liza Minnelli at the wedding. (Necessary? I think not.)
(+12) Carrie and Big have marital problems because Big only wants to stay home and watch television, while Carrie wants to go live life.
(+2) Charlotte being nervous about Harry and the nanny
(-2) Charlotte being nervous about Harry and the nanny because the nanny is braless.
(-5) anyone waiting on a wait list for that ugly couch.
(-15) Carrie running into Aidan in the middle of a middle east flea market. That. Would. Never. Happen.
(-30) Big buying Carrie jewelry after she tells him about her kiss with Aidan. Yes women of America, cheating definitely deserves jewelry.
(-40) the airbrushing. I am talking to you, Kim Cattral.
(-102) Abu Dhabi as a whole, broken down below

(-2) the plane. Do planes like this actually exist?
(-2) the fact that they thought it was safe to go to the United Arab Emirates without a guide or cultural leader to aid them
(-10) the oasis in the middle of the desert, including the Danish guy who just happened to be wizzing by
(-5) couture and/or heels in the desert. They look ridiculous, not to mention they are not sweating nearly enough for the 115 degree weather they
are camel riding in.
(-40) Carrie losing her passport at said flea market, going back several days later, only to have it be in the same place she left it.
(+5) typical Americans, sticking out like a sore thumb wherever we go.
(-50) the women wear westernized couture under their saris. I mean, I am no expert, but shouldn’t Muslim women be a bit insulted that the producers patronized their culture by saying that they secretly want to be part of ours?
(+2) I mean, it looked like Abu Dhabi, right?

Total Reality Points: -185 meaning this would NEVER happen.

Closing thoughts:

• That’s enough, Samantha, we know you are hormonal, we don’t need you stuffing your face with hummus to drive the point home.
• Why did the producers need to make a mockery of how Americans are stereotypically inconsiderate and uneducated when in other countries? Leave it up to us to objectify ourselves to further scrutiny. Do we really need to go to Abu Dhabi to create a crisis? I think not. Whatever happened to a good old American conflict?
• I have a fever and the only prescription is more Smith Jarred…

SATC2 is just another example of how a sequel is never better than the original. Sigh.

TGIT

Good: Had a great time in the thriving metropolis that is New York City.
Great: Everyone is trying to be someone, even the boxes.
TGIT: Don't be afraid to follow your dreams, even if you end up in tommorrow's trash

Jay-Z and Alicia Keys really nailed it when they wrote the line bolded below:

New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There's nothin' you can't do
Now you're in New York
These streets will make you feel brand new [even if you live on the streets]
Big lights will inspire you [even if you only strive to be in a pile of trash]
Let's hear it for New York, New York, New York

I was inspired, thanks box o’ dreams 'n trash.

But Hold The Prune Juice....

Oh hey, all you 80-year-old-women out there who completely relate to me for multiple reasons! I am just like you! Don’t believe me? Read on!

I mean, to start, I knit. Not in a “Back up, Martha” kind of way, but I knit regardless. I have made two complete scarves and I will never look back. Naturally, I found those to be too easy, so I decided to knit a blanket (estimated time of completion, Fall 2014.)

What else? Well, I am a firm believer in bed times. Yes, I think that there is a value to getting 7-8 hours of sleep each and every night, and I do my best at trying to get at least that much. I didn’t say I actually get it, I just attempt to.

Further, I abide by the speed limit. Why? Because I am deathly afraid of getting a speeding ticket, not to mention I much more prefer getting into serious, expensive, car-anxiety inducing car accidents.

Often times I walk by 17 year-olds and want to yell at them. The boys? “Hey kid, pull up your pants and get a job!” The girls? “OH-EM-GEE, you, like, forgot to put pants on!” Rude? No. Helpful? Most likely, I mean perhaps she did forget to put pants on.

Lastly, I am immediately over stimulated after walking into, or by for that matter, an Abercrombie and Fitch. Don’t like the scent they infuse their store and the surrounding area with? Tough, because once you walk in, you have pretty much bathed in it.

Alright, enough ranting. Time for a cup of tea. EEK! Told you I am getting old.

Warning: Honesty Alert!

After a successful surprise weekend jaunt down to the Big Apple to surprise a gal pal on her 25th, I learned something very important about myself.

I am [just slightly] germaphobic.

My [dis]ability becomes very apparent when I am traveling alone, and know no one can judge me for being so.

How?

1. I cannot put my bag down on the floor of any airport and/or bus/train station. I simply cannot imagine putting my beloved bag on the floor, only for it to be infected with microscopic germs. My solution? My bag gets a seat while I wait for my train, or else I stand with it between my legs, obviously as fashionably as possible. I prefer to only leave the train station with germs I came with myself, thank you very much.
2. Public restrooms as a whole. I am not a good squatter. Things get even more interesting for me when I have a large bag that cannot hang on the little hook they provide for pocket books. Good thing I was a dancer, because those quads get a great workout.
3. I bring a pair of traveling socks. What are traveling socks, you may ask? Traveling socks go on after getting on the train, and come off before getting off said train. This way, I can take my sandals off, but avoid having my feet touch the floor (no doubt where millions of other smelly, sweaty, athlete’s foot-y feet have been.) Said socks come off before putting my shoes back on, as not to germ-if my shoes. Did I mention I get cold?
4. Oh hey, college brah dipping while sitting next to me on the train. Can you, like, stop?
5. There is a brief moment, once I relax and settle into my seat and plug in my iPod, that I ponder whether I am infecting myself with lice as I perch my head on the window on the train. Ew.

I give myself credit for knowing that this behavior is abnormal, and exposing it anyway.

I revert back to my favorite prayer which states: “Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

I know this is one of those situations that I am most likely unable to change, or else I most definitely don’t have the courage to change it…yet.

Who says this blog isn't reflective and therapeutic?