I’ve been a fan of sports since I was little, wearing my backwards Beauty & the Beast baseball cap while I played baseball and football with the boys at recess. I’m a baseball, college football and hockey kind of girl (in that order), so imagine my absolute joy at the Phillies entering the World Series last night while I live right here, in Philadelphia.
I am NOT a Phils fan by any means – Lord no. I bleed the blue of a Yankee, through and through. The only reason I have an Utley jersey hanging in my closet is because a friend of mine bought it for me for my birthday as a joke – and you bet your ass that it’s hanging right over a Yankees t-shirt.
Living in this city allows me to feel the absolute hype and hysteria over the situation and it’s a really cool thing to experience.
Tonight the Yankees will win and clinch their spot next to the Phils in the World Series (confidence is key, baby). And then…well…things are gonna get interesting for me.
My Yankees apparel is all ready here – I just have to make sure I don’t get the shit beat out of me for donning it.
At the end of all this, there will be two possible outcomes – the Phils will repeat and I’ll be forced be at the shit-end of all my friends ridicule down here OR…
The Yanks will take it and I’ll have my day – all those months of heckling will be forced into a friend-wide silence that I will bask in as I stand there and say “I TOLD YOU SO!”
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
gory glory.
Let’s take a second to talk about my balls.
My metaphorical ones, that is. You know – my cajones, my stones, my rocks. I’m not afraid of a lot of things. I have no problem doing most things, experiencing most things (except your occasional flock of birds - PLEASE get them OUT OF HERE).
One thing I DO have a problem with is scary movies. Since dating Tony, I’ve been seeing more and more scary movies and I’m now figuring out what really gets under my skin. It’s not so much the blood and gore at this point – it’s the paranormal things. It’s demons and ghouls and crawling, jerking figures. But I sit through all of it, and I do it well.
My scary movie balls are pretty big, but I didn’t get there without a fight. Oh no. Don’t like scary movies but find yourself being dragged to one? Listen to me – I know just what to do.
Got contacts? Take those bitches out and throw your glasses on. There’s a sense of security in knowing that if you look a little too far in one direction, your world will become a blur, thus softening what’s on screen. Or, just take them off completely. The people you’re with don’t need to know you’re blind as a bat without your glasses on. What you see on screen will just be a lot of blotchy figures – Saw V went by in big red blurs for me.
Put your knees up. This will only be a problem if the theater is full, thus making the seat in front of you occupied. Otherwise, putting your knees up gives you something to stare at when things start to get crazy. It serves as a barrier to the screen – you can pick and chose which corner of the screen you’d like to stare at instead of the whole thing by shifting your knees about. This method also works well if you wear a hat. Hats are way more effective, but you might get called out if you pull the brim down too far.
And last, but not least, and most important - RESEARCH. Yea, it’s not just for school – it’s for your nerves and sanity. It’s going to ruin the movie, sure. But who cares?! Did you really want to see this in the first place? Probably not. If you aren’t attending the opening night of the film, go online and look at reviews. Got a twist ending to it? Google it. YouTube it and you might get lucky. A lot of reviews talk about specific scenes, so you know what’s coming. Prepare yourself for what’s to come and it all won’t be such a shock.
So get out there, go see some crazy films that you didn’t want to be a part of in the first place. You can at least discuss it with your friends (to a certain extent) and maybe after a while you’ll remove the cap and drop your knees and take it in in all its gory glory.
My metaphorical ones, that is. You know – my cajones, my stones, my rocks. I’m not afraid of a lot of things. I have no problem doing most things, experiencing most things (except your occasional flock of birds - PLEASE get them OUT OF HERE).
One thing I DO have a problem with is scary movies. Since dating Tony, I’ve been seeing more and more scary movies and I’m now figuring out what really gets under my skin. It’s not so much the blood and gore at this point – it’s the paranormal things. It’s demons and ghouls and crawling, jerking figures. But I sit through all of it, and I do it well.
My scary movie balls are pretty big, but I didn’t get there without a fight. Oh no. Don’t like scary movies but find yourself being dragged to one? Listen to me – I know just what to do.
Got contacts? Take those bitches out and throw your glasses on. There’s a sense of security in knowing that if you look a little too far in one direction, your world will become a blur, thus softening what’s on screen. Or, just take them off completely. The people you’re with don’t need to know you’re blind as a bat without your glasses on. What you see on screen will just be a lot of blotchy figures – Saw V went by in big red blurs for me.
Put your knees up. This will only be a problem if the theater is full, thus making the seat in front of you occupied. Otherwise, putting your knees up gives you something to stare at when things start to get crazy. It serves as a barrier to the screen – you can pick and chose which corner of the screen you’d like to stare at instead of the whole thing by shifting your knees about. This method also works well if you wear a hat. Hats are way more effective, but you might get called out if you pull the brim down too far.
And last, but not least, and most important - RESEARCH. Yea, it’s not just for school – it’s for your nerves and sanity. It’s going to ruin the movie, sure. But who cares?! Did you really want to see this in the first place? Probably not. If you aren’t attending the opening night of the film, go online and look at reviews. Got a twist ending to it? Google it. YouTube it and you might get lucky. A lot of reviews talk about specific scenes, so you know what’s coming. Prepare yourself for what’s to come and it all won’t be such a shock.
So get out there, go see some crazy films that you didn’t want to be a part of in the first place. You can at least discuss it with your friends (to a certain extent) and maybe after a while you’ll remove the cap and drop your knees and take it in in all its gory glory.
Monday, October 5, 2009
i want your love, i want your revenge.
Today I decided to go out and do something old fashioned – a lil ole thing I like to call human interaction.
I pulled on my favorite boots, grabbed the gorgeous Marc Jacobs Tony bought for me and crammed it full of resumes and writing clips. I traipsed the city from 2nd to 19th Street, Market to League, and handed packets in to any publication I could find.
It went as well as one would expect. But there was one place that stuck out in my mind.
When I got to Philadelphia Style, I nearly threw up from the sheer overwhelming feeling that hit me when I walked in. It came from the fact that everything clicked and I knew this was the place I had to work.
It was in a remote part of town, the door outside was big and black, as well as the name plate that indicated the company inside. I walked in to blood red walls adorned with blown-up pictures of select covers of the magazine. It was quiet and the secretary desk was unmanned – until a huge fluff of white came bounding out of the back to jump up on my legs and lick my hands. The dog was adorable and soon followed by a woman, who I gave my packet to. She said she would pass it on to the editor.
I hope so. And I hope I get a call.
I walked in that office and saw myself. I saw myself traveling there day in and out, working there and enjoying every minute of it. I saw comfort and guidance. I saw the era of a new me.
I’ve been seriously considering going back to school for fashion lately. I’ve got journalism and marketing under my belt. Why not add the passion that comes second to writing to it?
I pulled on my favorite boots, grabbed the gorgeous Marc Jacobs Tony bought for me and crammed it full of resumes and writing clips. I traipsed the city from 2nd to 19th Street, Market to League, and handed packets in to any publication I could find.
It went as well as one would expect. But there was one place that stuck out in my mind.
When I got to Philadelphia Style, I nearly threw up from the sheer overwhelming feeling that hit me when I walked in. It came from the fact that everything clicked and I knew this was the place I had to work.
It was in a remote part of town, the door outside was big and black, as well as the name plate that indicated the company inside. I walked in to blood red walls adorned with blown-up pictures of select covers of the magazine. It was quiet and the secretary desk was unmanned – until a huge fluff of white came bounding out of the back to jump up on my legs and lick my hands. The dog was adorable and soon followed by a woman, who I gave my packet to. She said she would pass it on to the editor.
I hope so. And I hope I get a call.
I walked in that office and saw myself. I saw myself traveling there day in and out, working there and enjoying every minute of it. I saw comfort and guidance. I saw the era of a new me.
I’ve been seriously considering going back to school for fashion lately. I’ve got journalism and marketing under my belt. Why not add the passion that comes second to writing to it?
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