Beard of Brother's

This weekend my brother sported a beard that made him look like a member of Band of Horses.  That and Jesus and homeless.  I was simply full of comparisons for him.

This video is full of "B" things.  Beards like my Brother's, Break Ups, Bicycles and Brushing [of teeth].  I like it.  It's a little sad but I like that about it too.

My 4th Grade Style Essay on Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!  Today is a day to share with loved ones, even if those loved ones are in manic depression because they just sat in a car together all day.

Thanksgiving is a day to eat turkey until it hurts and blame tryptophan on your inability to stay awake when talking to relatives about politics.

Thanksgiving is a day to be thankful for my family and, when the weekend is over, be fortunate that they live five hours away from me.

Thanksgiving is a day to wake up at 9 a.m., nevermind that you went to bed at 3 a.m., to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.  Then discover it was way more magical as child and, in atypical fashion, that Matt Lauer and Meredith Vieira are awkward.

Now it's time to clean the apartment because, as of twenty minutes ago, I decided to host my family.

Here's to a Thanksgiving day full of prayers.

Reason #281 I'm Quirky

Sometimes I listen to Taylor Swift and reflect on life.

NBD.

My Big Fat Ginger Friend

A fan message.

"Saw the story of your life on your blog. This shirt is the story of my life. Much more concise"

Kyle, I miss you. You soulless ginger. Your $5 check for royalties is in the mail and the envelope is addressed to "WE HIT HARD c/o THE MASTERPIECE."

Just to share a story about Kyle.  The Saturday night of Halloween, 2005, Kyle decided that "nobody dresses up like a ghost anymore" so he bought a white sheet and cut holes out for the eyes and the mouth.  Unfortunately, Kyle is stupid and bought a twin fitted sheet that poorly that fit his 6'2"-ish frame.  Later in the night, we made friends with a man on the street who told us about the love of his life and her restraining order against him.  The man attempted to maintain eye contact with the ghost the entire time.  He failed and we laughed.  Kyle probably passed out after four beers.  The end.

Love,
Theresa (Fat)

You Scream, I Scream.

No seriously, I could scream right now.

I'm having a rough week.  If somebody could make me this I would greatly appreciate the gesture.

http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2010/08/smoked-chocolate-and-tequila-ice-cream-recipe.html
Props to Liz for this find!  And her quote, "I wish I could offer you a better solution than tequila" then she did.

Little Miss Approachable

I am not a knock out.  In typical social situations I am called cute.  Not the kind of cute reserved for children's shirts with kittens on them, but "pretty" cute.  I look my age to peers but to elders I'm "around 21?"  I'm just short of 5'3" with a sporty, petite build.  I have straight teeth courtesy of adolescent braces and my dad has called me "freckle nose" as long as I can remember, but I like to think I've grown up nicely.  I haven't dyed my hair in five years but believe that being a bottle blonde in high school helped me come out of my shell.  I don't wear too much makeup because I honestly don't know how.  I firmly believe too much makeup should be reserved for events like photos shoots and open casket funerals.

When having a good time out I am approachable to the point of flaw and overly accepting of your lame elevator pitch, as long as you're not an asshole.  I might even laugh at your awful pick up line, depending on how many drinks are in me.  I believe people are inherently good, which makes being a bitch very hard and disabling for me.  In a past life, I was the girl some guy would take home to screw only to be the one who played Guitar Hero with him and his roommates until I sobered up enough to drive home.  Go to bed alone, sucker.  At times I was trusting to the point of, "I am so glad I didn't die last night" at Rome's Termini train station at 7 a.m.  (THAT is a good story.  Another time.  Sorry Dad.)

A defining moment.  My junior year, on college spring break, my girl friends and I hung out with a small group of guys at their condo.  When I mentioned something risque I read in Cosmopolitan one of the guys, 28, beautiful and broad looked at me and flat out said, "you're smarter than that."  We spent the next few hours talking about European travel.  Brian, wherever you are, God bless you.

While reading My Horizontal Life by Chelsea Handler I though of how fun it would be to write my own memoir, minus the promiscuous sex.  I could never bring myself to sleep with a midget anyway.

I'm not old fashioned but I appreciate elements of traditional dating.  Sorry, but my friendliness is sometimes mistaken for flirting.  I gave up playing with emotions a long time ago because that doesn't comfort anyone.  I hate failure, especially when someone's feelings are up for grabs.  For a little while I whined about the inability to find myself a match, sung to the tune of Queen's "Find Me Somebody to Love."

So now I'm kind of in this new chapter in my life and, no lies, I'm nervous.  But I'm not singing Queen anymore.

"I'm okay, I'm alright."