Monday, October 20, 2014

Like, Love, and In Between

I despise that dreaded question your very sexually active friends ask after raving and ranting about their hot, douche-lord boyfriends: 
“How’s your love life, Hill?” 
Instead of pulling my usual “like the money in my pocket, it’s nonexistent” card, I decided to bring some spice into the bland soup that is my life. 
“Well, funny you should ask. I’m actually talking to two guys right now, Ben and Jerry. Ben is so sweet, while Jerry can tend to be cold but in the end I can never resist him. I love to spoon them in bed. Spoon into my mouth … because they’re ice cream."
So, fellow readers, if this little tidbit doesn’t display a detailed visual of my “love life,” let me put it into simpler words. I have never been a man eater, rather just an eater of everything else. Until college, the only men I talked to were my male relatives and the creepy butcher at the grocery store, who in hindsight got more meat than I would in a lifetime. Boys didn’t know I existed, and quite frankly neither did my boobs because they were still trying to find their way out of my body. Then college arrived, and my confidence (and breasts) made their grand entrance. Boys actually acknowledged me, and it wasn’t to tell me to move out of their way in the halls, but rather to ask me things like: “Do you like Passion Pit?” And you know what? I did love Passion Pit. Thus, my love of boys and all things indie rock blossomed into the glazed-over eyes of a love struck idiot. But here’s the catch: I’ve never been in love. 

Whoop, there it is. 

Fast forward to present day.  
Location: Freezer Section, Hyvee
Inner Emotions: Complete and Utter Panic

Holy Lord. 
Is that? No, that can't be him. 
I'm not ready, my body is NOT ready. Jesus take the wheel. 
Ok, cool legs. It's fine if you want to stay planted as he approaches you. Don't mind the fact that you are wearing a ripped hoodie and yoga pants, looking like an impersonator of someone who actually does yoga. That's fine. Let's just chill out here and let him enjoy this pleasant image of you looking like a total dumpster diver. Sweet. 
Male Specimen: "Hillary? Wow, it's been forever!"
Me: "Yeah....."
Great response, Hillary. How intelligent of you, I'm sure he can totally tell you are going to college based on that brilliant one worded response. Bravo, that was Oscar worthy. 
Male Specimen: "How are you?"
Blah, blah, blah. I hate this question, and why am I sweating so profusely? Am I supposed to be honest, and tell him about the four times I fell walking up the stairs this week? Or should I just give him a vague 'Fine, thanks sir"? 
No, just be nonchalant Hill.
Me: "Well, I just did a vigorous at home workout, and then came to the grocery store to buy Sour Patch Kids in order to reverse all the exercise that occurred no less than thirty minutes ago. So don't get it twisted with my workout clothes, because I actually consider lifting my backpack to be exercise. Now, I'm standing in front of the first guy I ever kissed, while I'm holding a bag of shredded cheese and Gatorade. So, you tell me how I'm doing." 
*Immediately blush, and want to jump in front of oncoming traffic*
Male Specimen: "Uh, right. Well I better get going. It was nice...well anyway, have a good day." 

Now, this is real evidence that proves I have an uncanny superpower: the ability to scare away any guy with my absolutely horrifying social skills. Some would say this is endearing, while my ovaries and I see things a bit differently. As someone who has always dreamed of grand gestures, and sweet talking fellows to sweep me off my feet, I find it frustrating that my brain tries to sabotage my love life every time I open my mouth. 

Nice man/boy: "You look pretty today Hillary."
Me: "Shut up, you're dumb."

Seriously. That's how I respond to compliments given from the opposite sex. I insult them immediately after they say something sweet, like I'm some kind of perpetual fifth grader learning to flirt. I bet I'd be quite a hit on the playground now a days. 
But in all seriousness, I keep reminding myself that love doesn't come easily. It's said to be a life long journey, but I'm just hoping it's not an eighty year long journey seeing as I want four children and can't do that as a geriatric. Alas, my time will come. Love is hyped up to be nothing but great, and I don't want to rush greatness. As I find my footing, hopefully someone finds a way past my awkwardness and into my heart. Meanwhile, I will be working on loving myself and all the people that already love me in the best way possible- for being me. 


Thursday, September 25, 2014

Releasing the Toxins

She was someone I thought was my best friend.
He was someone I thought of as a kind person.
They were people I thought belonged in my life.
Turns out, I thought wrong.

The phrase "people change" is the falsest statement you can claim, for here is the real truth: no matter how much a person seems to evolve, they can't help but find their way back to the person they are meant to be- themselves. This cannot be determined as good or bad because it's truly just human nature. Here's where things get sticky, makes life really hard to navigate at times. People never change, so what limit do we allow ourselves to let toxic people stick around when they determinately cannot change who they are? It's like this, we all have that person (our kryptonite if you will) that we physically cannot remove from our lives no matter what pain and suffering they cause. Why is that? Why do we allow people to mess with our emotions and continually disappoint us for the hideously false excuse that they will "change"? From recent experience, I can be frank and tell you that this is a load of bullshit. I have one person in mind that I will not name because I like to think I have some class, where as this person seemed to lack any sort of dignity or sophistication. This particular person was a very prominent figure in my life, and at the start everything was peachy. But a person can only keep their true colors from showing through for so long, and I soon began to see sides of this individual that I couldn't ignore. Here's my downfall, my weakness: I am a mother hen. If you confide in me, tell me your secrets and insecurities, I find that as I absorb and listen I become instantly protective because you are willing to trust me- and I'll be loyal to you from there on out. So when I am constantly being cut down by someone I cherish as a friend, a best friend at that, I don't know how to solve the problem. 

Until I did. 

This is a public service announcement for every single human being on this Earth, because tragically enough, everyone has that one toxic person involved in their daily lives. It's a reminder that removing any type of negative people from your life will 100% increase your own happiness and well being. Because people don't change, no matter how much we willingly hope and wish that they would. We deserve to live beautiful and carefree lives with people who make us feel just as beautiful and carefree.

So, this I challenge you:

Remove the toxic: eliminate those who make you feel negative or unhappy, for that is only a reflection of how they live their own lives
Never allow someone to "change" once they have let you down numerous times, it's only in their nature to do it again
If you can picture a life without them, ditch 'em. You deserve to be with the people you can't live without 
Overall, be happy. This is the only life you got and it's detrimental that you spend it will people who are good through and through.

Until next time, stay amazing. 
Hill xoxo

Monday, September 15, 2014


I'm alive. 
Blah, blah, blah. 
*Nominates herself for the worst blogger in the world award, in which she wins by a landslide*

My absence from my blog- or any social media for that matter- isn't important right now because this is the start of something BIG. This summer has been a whirl wind of midnight drives, road trips into the mountains, deafening concerts that made the ringing in my ears a thing of privilege, and losing love in others while gaining it all back in double from those who have been there since the beginning. I was lucky enough to cross things off my prestigious bucket list like:

Seeing The Queen Herself, Lana Del Rey, at Red Rocks in Colorado

Flying to Houston, Texas with my two best friends to see One Direction

Spending every waking moment with the people I love most

And the most taunting item on my list, being able to WERK while I WORK.

This little play on words is most likely confusing to anyone who doesn't have the brain capacity of a potato like myself, so I'll explain. 'Werk' is a term used when one is talking about Beyonce or Tyra Banks- queens of sass and being bad ass (Dr. Seuss ain't got nothing on me). So in other words, "werking it" means being the fiercest, most fearless and successful woman I can be. Not only do I want to WERK it, but I want to do it simultaneously while WORKing hard at my life goals. To sum up this horrible explanation, I want to work towards my dreams and pursue whatever life has to offer while being one strong, independent woman who can rock a pair of stilettos. This requires me to take steps in bettering myself mentally and physically, so I took another big leap- into the unfamiliar world of fitness. Although it's a struggle and I had my fair share of ups and downs, nothing feels better than to see results from all the hard work and effort you put into your own body. 
And that's not all. 
Changes are being made throughout my entire life, slowly molding into the future I have always envisioned for myself and I have never been more excited. I have major projects coming up that I can't wait to share with you all, but it's a bit too premature to say anything just yet. Trust me when I say, I haven't been this thrilled about something in a long time and when everything is finally revealed it will be well worth the wait.

I want nothing more than to share this amazing journey with all the people I care about most. If you're willing, I'd love for you to join me on this crazy ride we call life. 

Until next time my loves, 
Hill xox

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Personality vs. Pectorals

No, this is not a figment of your imagination. Yes, I have risen from the perpetual and hypothetical writing graveyard. I have no excuse for my absence other than the fact that I somehow stumbled upon a social life. Trust me, it was a shock to my system as well. This post surrounds the thoughts that have been swirling around my head within the last couple of months. Read further if you're a fan of immature people writing about mature topics.

I'm generally confused by humans most of the time, especially when it comes to attraction and regarding the opposite sex. As human beings, we have a wide spectrum of emotions that make up who we are, and what we like. So why do we focus on superficial qualities over personal characteristics? For example, there is a man (a God, if you will) that visits my workplace on a daily basis. He is downright one of the most gorgeous male species I have ever seen in my life, and by that I mean that I have ever encountered in Omaha, Nebraska. His jawline is taught and could cut diamonds, and he's tall and built like an Olympic athlete. He truly has the face of an angel, and you want to know what else? The guy is a total prick. He isn't rude in the sense that he thinks he's the hottest guy in the room (which he is), but rather he has absolutely no social skills, no personality whatsoever. It was such a bummer when he walked in for the first time and I went to check him out (check out his order and his body if you know what I mean), and he barked out his order and walked away. I thought maybe he was having an off day, but it turns out every day he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed and has a bowl of douchey-o's for breakfast. I would like to think that if I were ever given the opportunity to date that stud, I would turn it down. Because for me, relationships are so much more than physical attraction, so much more than a pretty face. If you have a disgusting personality I truly want nothing to do with you romantically. For what is an apple with a rotten core? Yet, I see people all the time wanting nothing more than to be with someone because they could be the spawn of Jesus, but have nothing else to offer. Are we all so shallow that we can't look past the exterior to delve into what's deeper? As I grow older, I find myself more attracted to someone who can make me laugh or really just let his guard down when we talk, compared to someone who is gorgeous and is only concerned with his pecs and sideburns. Don't get me wrong, I still drool everytime there's a handsome man in my presence. Yet, as soon as I find out the personality isn't there, the luster dissapates and all that's left is an admiration for his parents well developed DNA. 

The point of this ranting and raving is to remind people of a saying we all know and love: "don't judge a book by it's cover". For it may look like a really hot, well built book, but when you read it you find out it's a trashy Twilight novel. I find the best people are the ones that catch you off guard, really surprise you. Give people the chance to do so, for you may be missing out on something spectacular. 

Monday, June 16, 2014

Not A Fault In Sight

I'm a book hoarder. I spend ridiculous amounts of money on pastel bound books and stack them away for that library I am determined to have in my future abode. I read all of them of course, most interest me enough to finish, some are so disappointing and dull I practically have to force myself to read line after line. In any case, I still keep them for my large and random collection. Then there are a sparse few books I come upon that make my senses metaphorically water for the taste of the well written word. I treasure these novels of pure gold, rereading them constantly until I can recite the whittiest of lines. You want to know how I determine what's written well, what can truly be deemed as a GOOD book in my eyes? I don't read- I absorb the words on the page, can hear the dialogue, can literally feel the emotion clenching in the pit of my stomach, in my heart. This is all utterly embarrassing to admit out loud, emphasizing the true geek I am, but I am well over it. When I read a chest clutching, life changing book, I want everyone to read it as well- to see if they feel the heart break, the anger, the joy that the author literally hands you on a silver platter. All this ranting about my weird book fetishes has a point, in which I am about to make clear. I have three favorite books, ones I can recite because I've drooled over their words in absolute obsession. 
To Kill A Mockingbird: a classic that will forever stand the test of time. I clearly remember the overall disgust people in my class had for the book, while I found it absolutely breathtaking and explained that there is good in all people.
The Giving Tree: a child's book nonetheless, but with such a moral significance in it's few pages. I cherish my copy, always tearing up whenever I crack open the pages and get a glimpse of the dilapidated tree, her life spent loving a human boy.
If I Stay: A book I've abused over the years from the amount of continuous page turning. Coincidentally, it's being made into a movie in which I won't be seeing because it's already perfectly real in my head.
Then there is the newest addition to my prestigious list, the center piece of this whole post, a book I finished in a span of three hours, just minutes ago. The Fault In Our Stars is a popular novel that has taken the world by storm. It seemed over done and overrated, a basic white girl magnet, not to mention god damn depressing. I wasn't going to indulge in a mainstream novel that would put me on suicide watch- no thanks. Yet, I'm weak and indugled in a brand new copy. Upon my doubts, guess what? My stomach lurched, I giggled and idiotically smiled to myself, felt tears prick at the back of my eyes. I physically hurt, felt everything John Green (the astonishing author) had put into words. I'm not going to spoil a thing, not even going to elaborate. All I know is that I read this masterpiece and instantly connected it with this: Although life is not infinite, love can last for eternity. I was taken aback my the fact that a book could bring such deep thought and appreciation to an audience. The message within the words opened my eyes not only as a reader, but as a writer. I hope to one day release work of my own that envelopes the hearts of those who read it, makes them ponder on great thoughts like love, life, and death. For that is true writing, the power to make people feel greatly in the simplest of ways- the closest thing we have to magic. 

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Mi Amor

I remember looking at you, and thinking you held the stars- the universe, in your eyes. Those eyes will forever be imbedded in the back of my mind. I remember you were the first boy to ever tell me I was beautiful, and I will always cherish you for those exquisite words. You made me listen to old Beatles songs, really listen, and I felt like I was hearing the music for the first time. We were never defined by any sort of stuffy label, if anything we were friends at best. I didn't love you, I haven't had the pleasure of real, heart breaking love yet. Love wasn't what made you special, it was the singular fact that you listened. Never once batted an eye when haunting memories bubbled from my lips, you only bounced back with a secret of your own. They say good things never last, and in time people change. Like a pebble being dropped in the porcelain smooth river, you drifted away like a ripple, farther and farther until you were just gone. I realize now that the time we spent together was beautiful and innocent- raw. I smile to myself when I hear the stir of John Lennons voice, thinking of you. I don't regret a second of my past, you included. As I grow, people run in and out of my life, helping me evolve into the person I'm supposed to be. You made me an honest person, made me feel beautiful even when my head and heart thought differently. For that, I have you stashed away at the back of my mind, popping in and out whenever you feel like it. I always wanted to say this to you, that can be the only explanation for this over drawn letter. The idea sparked from a single moment, 'Strawberry Fields' filtering from my speakers, and suddenly- I see your eyes.

Saturday, May 3, 2014

I Survived Psychotic Mood-Swing Disorder

This is too much information. This may be uncomfortable for some, but this needs to be addressed. Every month, women go through a week or so of PURE HELL. I don't think men realize the disturbing things that go on when women endure PMS, or what I like to call: Psychotic Mood-Swing Disorder. Here is a list of things that happened today while I suffered from PMS. These are all actual events, none of which have been fictionalized. The only reason I am sharing this risque information with you is to put into perspective how a woman acts and feels when WWIII is happening in her uterus.
  • I found a Dorito in my bed. I then ate said Dorito. It was a crumb from earlier munching, so don't get it twisted that I ate a random chip I found in my bed....
  • I blubbered like a baby because Dairy Queen gave me a Midnight Truffle Blizzard instead of my Cookie Dough Blizzard.
  • I cried again because the Midnight Truffle Blizzard was SO DAMN GOOD, and it felt like a betrayal to my number one boo- Cookie Dough. 
  • I converted my room into a cave of sorts, pitch black with four different scented candles burning. It was overpowering and it smelled like Bath and Body Works vomited in my room.
  • I watched episode after episode of New Girl, and laughed even when nothing remotely funny was happening.
  • I sat through an entire indie movie that was pure garbage, but I couldn't change it. Why? I needed to know if the rather ugly main character got with the girl who was way out of his league. THEY DIDN'T MAKE IT, AND I CRIED BECAUSE MY OVARIES ARE GOING HAYWIRE.
  • I sang a plethora of sad songs in the shower, and didn't even care that my dad was in the next room- judging me. 
  • I can't stop eating. 
    • Pickles? Sure.
    • Half bag of Doritos? Absolutely. 
    • Ice cream? Is that even a question? 
    • Cheese? Cheese is what makes the world go round, so yeah- I ate a lot of cheese.
  • My face resembles the bumpy surface of Mars- so much acne. Why not break out so bad I look like I'm fourteen and still have head gear? Why not relive my wonderful high school years where I couldn't even speak actual words to a person of the opposite sex? I love this...
  • 'Mean' doesn't even begin to describe how I've been the past 24 hours. Anyone who's interacted with me today got bitched out because I can't control my emotions and I just wanted a cookie. 
  • I slapped a donut out of my sisters hand. Yeah, you read that right. Straight up punched that pastry across the room. I don't know what came over me, but I slapped that donut so vigorously it exploded into a million pieces. It was a 'did that really just happen?' moment, and my God do I regret it. 
  • I hit my little brother Cole in the butt, and I don't even know why. It was creepy, and I really am starting to revaluate my life choices.
Most of all, I feel like a beached whale with severe acne and an anger problem. This isn't living. No, this is hell on Earth. This my friends, is PMS.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Mama Mia

Moms are truly everything in our world. The healers, the providers, the bakers, and most especially the people who shows us unconditional love- no matter what sticky situations we get ourselves into. That being said, I came across some old photos from my graduation video and literally could not believe how absolutely ratchet my mother allowed me to look in public. This post is dedicated to my wonderful mother, who had some sketchy judgment when it came to my hair and clothes in the past.

Things started out alright, Mom. I kinda look like Haley Joel Osment from the Six Sense with that haircut, and I wouldn't be caught dead in those sneakers now. However, it could be worse- and my God does it get worse.

Hey Mom, who's idea was it to dress me up like a toddler from Little House on the Prairie? Mom, this hat is literally the worst thing I have ever seen. Not to mention the fact that you actually bought me matching frilly socks to go along with my dress. And please explain to me why you allowed me to pose on top of a large star that has absolutely no relation to my getup? By the way you had me dressed, I should have been sitting on a horse drawn carriage. 

Mom, I won't blame this photo entirely on you. I feel like you thought this was a cute sweater option for a school photo, but you were very misconstrued. You see Mom, not only does my sweater belong to a 40 year old Walmart employee, but my hair is an absolute catastrophe. Like I said, this can't all be blamed on you for I'm sure when I left for school my head didn't resemble an electrocuted turtle shell made of human hair. 

Visibly, there is nothing wrong with this photo. It seems innocent and somewhat adorable, but there is a dark secret behind that semi-smile. I had a wedgie during the entire communion ceremony, and I picked it in front of the whole church. My mom had nothing to do with this, but since I'm sharing the humiliation of my past why not put it all out in the open. 

Okay Mom, this is actually rude. The placement of the bow resembles a fish jumping out of water, trying to escape my horrendous bangs. Also, I would have appreciated a heads up when it came to smiling with my mouth open. Just looking at that gap in my teeth makes me say a little thank you to God for creating orthodontists and head gear.   

Hey Mom, you're awesome for keeping a straight face when I walked out in this costume. Those glasses are about the sexiest thing I've seen in a while. And by "sexy" I mean "blindingly ugly".

OH MY GOD MOM THIS IS ACTUALLY THE WORST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN! I looked like a creepy fifth grade librarian! A turtleneck?!?!? A DAMN TURTLENECK MOTHER?!?! Also, my hair....Mom I don't understand what I did to make you punish me like this. It's cruel, and there is no way in hell you saw this and thought "Aww, Hillary looks so pretty and not anything like a lesbian book store owner".

Hey Mom, why?
I thought the turtleneck fiasco earlier was bad, but I draw the line at a full denim dress. It zipped in the front and hugged my rather portly physique so thanks for that Mom. Oh, and that hair flip...well Shaun White could do a sweet ass snowboarding trick off one of those under curls. 

No matter what terrible fashion choices and outrageous hairdo's you made me endure Mom, you're still my everything. 

XOXO, Hill.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

My Top 15 Potential BFF's When I Become Famous

Just yesterday, my sister asked me who I would pick if I could be best friends with any celebrity- ever. I had a difficult time choosing just one, so I narrowed it down to a solid top 15. I thought it would be a fun little blog post idea, so here I present it to you. I chose all women for the very reason that I plan on doing a 'Top 15 Men I Will Date When I'm Famous' post soon. You think I'm joking, but boy are you wrong. 

Emma Stone
I have never had a ginger friend, and it's always good to mix things up. Not to mention I absolutely adore her all around weirdness and strange facial expressions (e.i. the picture above). I too have chronic bitch face syndrome, where I can't help but make god awful expressions whenever:
A. I hate someone
B. I am judging someone 
C. I'm hungry 
D. Any other time
The most important factor of our potential friendship is that she could hook me up with her close pal Ryan Gosling- need I say more?

Kelly Osbourne
She's sassy, her style is edgy and fun, and she's British- all the things I've ever wanted in my life. I want to go with her to the set of Fashion Police and have cosmos with Joan Rivers while we bash every celebrity's fashion choices. I want us to go to a Black Sabbath concert while we watch her dad, Ozzy, most likely spit on someone from the stage. If I can't have a British accent then by God one of my friends will.

Chelsea Handler
The queen of humor and perverted jokes. I read every single one of her books and laughed so hard I was crying more than Billy Ray Cyrus did over his daughters career. She has no filter, she's a sarcastic asshole, yet sharp as a whip. She wouldn't be afraid to tell me I look like a street walker in my new heels, or that I probably should just give up on men and become an asexual cat lady- that's true friendship.

Ellen DeGeneres 
Not only is Ellen the cutest thing around since puppies existed, she seems like the all around perfect best friend. She's funny, she dances (not very well, but have you seen ME dance?!), and she has a kind and loving soul and believes all people are equal. I would make her call me every night before I went to bed and talk to me so I could imagine I was speaking with Dory from Finding Nemo. I would be her personal assistant and help give away houses, iPads, maybe even kittens to her audience members. Life would be swell.

Jennifer Lawrence
She's beautiful. She loves food. She's really odd, and sometimes borderline psychotic. Her dress choices for any award show are always on point. She's perfect. She's JENNIFER LAWRENCE. No more explanation is needed.

Betty White
I want her to be my friend, but I mostly want her to be my grandma. She is just so adorable I'd be scared to be around her for I would want to give her a bear hug and I would probably break her old lady bones. She is the embodiment of what I want to be as a granny: a sarcastic, kinda pervy, old woman with a perfectly quaffed white fro.

Holland Roden
It's one thing to say I want to be friends with Holland, and it's another thing to say I want to be Holland. She has the most beautiful ginger mane that is always immaculately done, she is gorgeous in an unconventional yet totally unique way, and she is one of my fashion icons. She is a mega genius, majoring in molecular biology and looking fierce while doing it. It doesn't hurt that she got to make out with Dylan O'Brien on an episode of Teen Wolf either...

Melissa McCarthy
I want her to tell me jokes for hours at a time. I want to throw pies off a balcony with her and laugh until we pee our pants and I don't even know why. I want to be friends with Melissa McCarthy because I know she will appreciate all my bad puns and tell me I am the

Laura Osnes
Many of you may not be aware of the magical Laura Osnes, but I suggest you take time to Google her because you need to understand why I MUST be besties with this lady. She just finished starring in Roger and Hammerstein's Cinderella on Broadway, A.K.A she had the best job of all time. I've listened to the soundtrack so many times only wishing I could sound more like her and less like a dying chicken. I watched every single one of her Cinderella vlogs on YouTube and it made me instantly want to know her. She is what you would imagine a real life Disney Princess would be like in the flesh. I love her, and it's just sinful that we are not the bestest of friends.

Emma Watson
What do I love more than food and cats? Harry Potter. Know why I love Harry Potter so much? Because I want to go to Hogwarts and also because I adore Emma Watson. She's just the cutest British person, and she got to live my dream of attending the school of witchcraft and wizardry. As of recently, her fashion choices are blowing me away, and she is making her way up on my list of style icons. If you can pull off a pixie cut like that, and not be a 12 year old prepubescent boy, I applaud you.

Amy Poehler 
Have you seen Baby Mama? Have you witnessed any episode of SNL Amy has ever been on? If you have, you know why we should be besties. We could pull pranks on Tina Fey and eat ice cream together like grown woman should.

Sandra Bullock
-Miss Congenitally 1&2
-Practical Magic
-The Proposal
-The Blind Side
Watch the listed items above and you too will want to be BFF's with this woman.

Khloe Kardashian
My spirit animal. I don't have words to describe how much I love Khloe Kardashian and her biting comebacks and sailor mouth. She is not afraid to speak her mind or call anyone a douchelord if necessary. I need to be friends with her because we are the same person. She has a general dislike for most humans, as do I. This friendship is going to happen. 

Audrey Hepburn
The classic, the old Hollywood movie star. I always thought I was born in the wrong generation, and I have always had a soft spot for the Breakfast at Tiffany's actress. She's beautiful in a simplistic way, her signature eyeliner and pearls are always an inspiration for my own look. If we were friends, she could be the sophisticated, poised one while I was the hot mess with good eyebrows. Perfect match.

Lana Del Rey
When my sister originally asked me if I could choose just one person as my celebrity BFF, I instantly blurted Lana. She is just phenomenal. She is so fierce and absolutely stunning she puts Beyonce to shame. I'm excitedly attending her concert in Colorado this summer, and to say I'm ecstatic would be about the biggest understatement ever. I could listen to her sing for days, her deep old timey voice is so rare in a time of auto tune and bad lip syncing. Now that I have sufficiently grossed myself out with the amount of gushing I just did, I will just say that Lana Del Rey is my number one choice to be my partner in crime and Best Friend Forever. 

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

A Changing World, A Changing Me

It's been three months since I noticed the change. It was gradual at first, slowly trickling into my life bit by bit. I never really notice drastic differences in my life until they are completely obvious, and I feel a bit unsettled by the fact that I didn't acknowledge the changing world around me while I sat still- not making an impact on anything or anyone. I have always told myself I would make a statement, whether it was with another person or a million people, or even just myself. I had this plan, that I was going to be a kind, selfless person. I was going to be healthier, physically and mentally. I was going to dedicate myself to work and school, and I was going to conquer every task that was thrown my way. Then it happened, and it hit my like a slap to the face. I was completely and utterly lost. My life was changing before my eyes and I felt like I was in this constricting vice, struggling to evolve with everyone else. I lost friends, and I didn't know why. I had no motivation for school, and I watched all my peers excelling and knowing what the future had planned for them. There was an unspoken tension at home that constantly put me on edge. I always felt vulnerable, and most of all I was uncomfortable in my own skin. Looking in the mirror was always a cruel trick, making me think I looked presentable one minute and then catching my reflection and actually being repulsed by the image staring back at me. I didn't fall into depression, I never developed an eating disorder, and I didn't swallow pills to mask the scary thoughts of life passing me by. No, I didn't pick up any addictive tendencies, but I did something far worse in my eyes; I stopped living up to my potential. I'm writing this all in past tense because I refuse to make this my life any longer. At this very moment, when I hit the 'publish' button I will be making a promise to not only myself, but to all of you reading, that I am going to try. I'm going to try and make my life the way I want it to be, because I'm young and anything is possible. I am going to put every ounce of my being into what I love, into my friendships, and relationships, into making myself happy. Change is so terrifying in the fact that you don't know what the future holds, but isn't that the beauty of it all? It's like taking that leap of faith off a cliff, suspending yourself thousands of feet above the ground. It's so scary, and then you jump and it's amazing and thrilling. You have to catch your breath because you realize there's always going to be something to catch you. I have this profound mentality that things can only get better from here, and I'm reaching for it and I promise I will get there if it's the last thing I do.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Girls Just Want to Have Fun- When They Turn 21

This past weekend was my initiation into what most Americans would call "adulthood", or for a less prestigious description: my 21st birthday. Ah yes, nothing like embarrassing yourself in public while consuming unsavory amounts of booze and greasy bar food. My 21st could be considered tame compared to the classic drunk movies like "The Hangover" or "Project X"- although I wouldn't mind waking up to a tiger in my room for it would fulfill my dream of becoming Princess Jasmine from Aladdin. Even though I didn't wake up next to Bradley Cooper (I wish) or throw up in the streets of Downtown Omaha (thank you Lord Baby Jesus), I still had quite the adventurous weekend. But instead of writing a long blog post that could potentially put you to sleep, I decided to post photos- yes, photos. It's said that a picture speaks a thousand words, and I am going to present to you the ones that best embody my epic birthday endeavors. Before I begin, I would just like to say that some of these pictures are tragically embarrassing on my part and I am posting them for the entertainment of my readers. I'm so glad you all find my lack of social skills humorous- you're welcome. Now, let's begin.
Pretty self explanatory, I took this photo at 12:01 AM on Thursday February 20th. This is where the madness began.
Precursor to any night out, ESPECIALLY on my birthday is a selfie- duh.
What's a birthday party without birthday dessert? My aunt made the best 21st birthday cake I have ever seen. Don't even try and tell me that drunk Barbie isn't hilarious with her confetti barf and the lovely tramp stamp above her exposed thong. I died, it's perfect. 
Another essential component to my big day was being surrounded by my friends and family.  These are just a few snapshots taken from the two night extravaganza that was my birthday. These people laughed with me, laughed AT me, fed me shot after shot, and took horrific video footage of me singing One Direction in a public place. Never the less, it was these people that made me feel oh so special even when I felt oh so drunk.
Then I started getting drinks, and some shots, and a few more drinks, and a couple more shots...

The final photos are a public service announcement for the youth. I like to call it "The Progression of Getting Tanked". As you can see, in the first photo I am doing the duck face, typical white girl move. But that's how you can tell the alcohol is kicking in because I am a firm believer in the idea that Satan started this disgusting trend of pushing your lips out in an unsexy way- thus, the drunkness has begun. Then in the second photo, you can clearly see me being a HOT MESS. There was a point during the night where I could physically not keep my head up and my eyes open. I resembled someone who had recently got maced and couldn't open their eyes all the way. The final photo is what I like to call "Oh my God, you are so drunk you are sleeping at the bar and you don't even care that other humans are around judging you". Thankfully, that's where my night ended. I was safely brought home, force fed Mac'n'Cheese, and tucked in which I instantly passed out and most likely snored like a walrus.

On a final more serious note, this post was not meant to be a trashy expose on how I am a quality drinker (because as evidence has shown, I'm not). It's my way of poking fun at myself while letting everyone else in on the joke that is my drinking experience. I am in no way about this life, I was tired for about a week after this whole thing went down and the thought of any kind of vodka made me want to hurl. Although it was a good time, a glass of wine while watching Netflix is more my style. Until next time, I bid you all adieu.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Single and Not Wanting to Mingle

Being single; It has quite the stigma, those two little words. I can't say I'm not guilty of pulling the 'forever alone' card, complaining about being single and living a sad life with only me, myself, and I. Yet, I recently discovered something eye opening about my single status: Being single is all that and a bag of chips (preferably Sour Cream and Onion). I truly accepted this idea when one of my close friends texted me today, venting about this guy that had turned her against love and all things gravitating towards 'feelings'. Being the advice guru (lol at that sarcasm) that I am, I sent her some girl empowering thoughts and realized I wasn't practicing what I preached. During my 'GIRLS RULE' speech, I realized that everything I said was true. Sometimes people depend on others, especially significant others, to make them feel complete. Shouldn't we be complete all on our own? I am in no way bashing on people in love or in happy relationships, you have obviously figured out a happy medium. This is for those of you who feel like you need a relationship, a girlfriend or boyfriend, to define who you are. I present to you:
I can do whatever the hell I want.
I can lay in bed for an unlimited amount of time, watching every Leonardo DiCaprio movie known to man kind until I have memorized every little facial feature on that perfect specimen- or not. I can flirty text whoever I want, whenever I want. I can go to those really crappy chick flicks and not have my whiner boyfriend complain about how he hates anything starring either of the "Ryan Duo" (A.K.A: Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Gosling). And most importantly, I can love my cats unconditionally and not get judged for it- see even Ryan Gosling is happy for us.

I don't have to look presentable- ever.
I can rock the Hermione Granger look from the first two Harry Potter movies whenever I feel necessary, and we all know that is not a cute getup. I can wear my old, ratty, high school sweats with my four times to large Menards t-shirt because guess what: I CAN BITCHES. No need to do my hair and makeup unless I want to, and isn't that just a beautiful thing?

I don't have to go out. Hell, I don't even have to go OUTside.
You're single, embrace the laziness. You can come and go as you please, and take advantage of it! Feel free to become a hermit and watch Netflix for eight days solid OR go out and be free every week night if it's what you desire. All in all, do what YOU want to do.

There is no need to share the things you love.
In other words, you don't have to share any of your food, your bed, or your undivided attention. You can be greedy, and sometimes that's ok.

Be young and stupid with your best friends.
We have our whole lives to find a soulmate, to be tied down to one person. If your single, embrace the freedom you have to just be young and dumb with other single people. Do things that are thoughtless (unless they can get you arrested, then don't do that) and FUN. Karaoke until the break of dawn, do cookies in the Walmart parking lot at 2 AM, drive five hours to a huge lake and go camping with one of your closest friends. Friendships are the best relationship you can have without actually being in a relationship. Your best friend will do countless dumb shit with you, laugh by your side, sing with you until your voice is raspy. These are the kind of people you want close when you are single and living it up. These are the times to live life without ties; When you are just old enough to do whatever, and just young enough to not have anything holding you back. 

Learn to be independent. Learn how to be yourself.
No one defines you. The only person that can truly make you happy, complete, anything you possibly desire is YOU. If you can't be all those things on your own, how is that going to help you in the long run when you do find someone? Being single is a beautiful thing. Being in a relationship can be too, but that's the next chapter in life. This is the time to live in the now, create memories that you can share when you're older, make moments that you can remember for a lifetime. Being single isn't a drag, being single is a lifestyle worth living if you're up to the challenge. And for me, well- challenge accepted.