When in doubt, dance out

I have some excellent news. I have discovered a HUGE difference between the male members of both Connecticut and New Jersey. I will share this kernel of knowledge with you shortly but first I must start at the beginning. Last week my sister left me. She took her husband, their three children, and a bunch of suitcases and peaced out, leaving me with nothing but two snuggly pups and an otherwise empty house to look after. The first few days were fun. Although, I got a little lonely at night so I ended up moving the dog beds into my room. Cozy. However, I was free to come and go as I pleased (not that this is ever really an issue) and I always had control over what was on the television. This was all well and good but come Friday I just could not wait for my girls to arrive. So we went out to this great place called Molly Darcy's and we're dancing and singing along with the music (aka losing my shit when the band started playing a Bon Jovi medley) and then all of a sudden a miracle happens! This guy was dancing near me, like kind of trying to dance with me but not really wanting to be too forward, and then that "Hello" song came on and he started flailing about! All of a sudden one of his arms comes flying past my face and smacked my (full) beer out of my hand! The bottle literally shattered all over the ground but nobody else seemed to notice the tidal wave of Michelob Ultra cascading over my pants and the dance floor. Now if we were in Jersey, I would have lost it and started telling the guy off. Or rather my friends would do it on my behalf because hey, let's face it, I'm not really interested in confrontation. Said guy would have most likely responded with a "Whoops my bad" and then danced his way to the other side of the room. However, we were in the Great North and up here, there are other ways of handling the situation. In fact I didn't have to do anything! I didn't even have time to be mad! Once that bottle exploded into a thousand beer flavored fairies,this guy goes "Oh man I'm so, so, sorry. Here, come with me I'll buy you a new one." And just like that, my faith in the Connecticut male was solidified. It was a beautiful moment. As much as I have spouted my never ending love for Connecticut I will say this much: nobody knows how to party like Jersey girls do. I men the guys up here, they go out for some beers and whatever and if they meet someone they meet someone but I can honestly say that I never see single girls out on the town. If there are girls at the bar it's because their boyf couldn't convince them to stay home and write the diary that night. Isn't that strange? I mean even the singer of the band that night told us he could tell we weren't from around here. And then he certainly wasn't surprised when he found out where we're actually from. Here's the thing, I consider myself to be a pretty classy lady. But I sure as hell know how to throw down when there is something to be celebrated. I'm even all for making up holidays if it gives us an excuse to party. I've met women who've been living here for almost twenty years but they haven't lost their Jersey pride! Even my sister has been here for like, fifteen years and she still knows how to play a kickass game of flipcup! Who do you think taught me everything I know about drinking beer? Certainly not the men in my life that's for sure! I guess it just goes to show that you can take the girl from Jersey but you certainly can't take Jersey from the girl.

I hope this gets to you

Oh my dog it has been FOREVER! I don't even know what to write about honestly. About two weeks ago my Uncle Mickey passed away. His passing was not by any means a shocking event. He was pretty sick and had lived a very long and fulfilling life. His funeral was the first time since June that my entire family was under one roof. Yes, all ten of us were present. It's really strange to see how all of us are growing up and getting on with our lives. Not only are we changing as individuals but our relationships with each other have certainly changed as well. For example, my brother and I used to be very close until he decided to become one of Voldemort's Deatheaters. Since then we have grown apart. It's not as bad as it was, but there are still a lot of unresolved issues there. 

Something I've been doing a lot of thinking about lately is how grateful I am for my friends. My actual friends, that is. I can count the number of people (outside of my blood relatives) who have continuously been there for me, year after year, crisis after crisis, on my one hand. I feel like in the time that I've been in the Great North I've learned that I don't have to tolerate certain people in my life and I don't have to accept excuses as to why they are the way that they are.  I don't need assholes in my life and I certainly don't need any sneaky liars either. I guess this was more of a rant than anything else but I'll be back with more at a later date.

Bon Jovi!!! and more!

It has officially been two weeks since I last posted....not that much has happened. Well, I mean a guess a good amount has happened. I have officially lost 5 pounds. I know, it doesn't sound right to me either but I think it's because a lot of my fat is converting right into muscle, and therefore the numbers don't change. It's ok though because I am TOTALLY happy with this! The next thing is that my baby sister came to visit me!!! She's not really a baby though being that she's in fact18 years old. She's going to college next year!! Baby Sis is all grown up!! :( That is pretty much all I have to say about my first week not posting anything on this bloggie. The second week was chock full o' stuff!!!! Sistah #1 and I went to see BON JOVI!!!! SWOON!!!!!!!!! They were amazing!!! We had a wonderful time!! After that I went to the dirty Jerz for the weekend. This was by no means a relaxing weekend away. I had an amazing trip but by the time I got home I was exhausted!!!! Friday morning I had a delightful bagel breakfast with one of my closest friends and came quite close to losing my appetite after an accidental Voldemort sighting. Ladies beware, if you look him in the eye you'll probably turn to stone, his powers of wretchedness are terribly similar to those of Medusa. I didn't let that ruin my day though! If anything it made it better because let's face it, I look great. That night we went into the city to see one of our friends in her student showcase- she's fabulous and adorable and all around incredibly talented!! Then we decided to party it up in Hoboken. Margaret and I just love to dance so that's what we did! That, and try to avoid lecherous douchers who do nothing but chase us around and try to stick their beer-coated tongues down our throats. Not cute guys. Not cute at all. That night was ridiculous to say the least. When we got home the pain in my feet and the booze in my head forced me to literally crawl into my house on my hands and knees. It was bad news bears. Saturday night was another shit show altogether. I had too much beer and when I got home got a real bad case of the spins. Not fun. But I always say that if you're going to fall apart at the seams, do it in private. I would never force the whole bar to worry about the state of my previously ingested dinner. That is between me and the spaghetti pot I slept with (purely for precautionary measures, of course).

Now there is something very important I would like to discuss. I have recently come to terms with the fact that my life is not a romantic comedy. I certainly wish it were, but I am not so lucky. There are certain contributing factors that would make it seem as though my life were headed in that direction but then reality pokes it's ugly head into the mix and pulls me back down to earth. For example, my best friend and I talk every day. Some days we even talk in the car on our way to work in the morning. Total Romcom material right? Only if we were in a real Romcom, we would talk on the phone on the way to work, and then when we got to work it would turn out that we were employed at the same place. Not the case here. We don't even work in the same state! Now about a month and a half ago I moved. Pretty much the whole year leading up to this move was filled with a "will we" "won't we?" scenario with a friend of mine. We have a great chemistry together but neither one of us was ever going to make the move. Then the last night I was in NJ, I made the move. I asked him if he ever planned on kissing me and he said yes, so he did, and then the Counting Crows' "Accidentally in Love" started playing, and the stars all got swirly, and we lived happily ever after. JUST KIDDING! THIS IS REAL LIFE! We did kiss, then I moved, and then nothing ever happened after that. A few texts here and there, and a terribly awkward reunion last week is all the history he and I will ever have. If this post disappointed and depressed you then good. I'm glad. I'm not the only one who should have to suffer through the realities of life alone.

Who's awesome? I'M AWESOME!

Ok, so today was FANTASTIC! Went to work, ran after small children all morning and one of my coworkers commented on how I'm looking smaller these days!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was beyond thrilled! Elated even! Because as all 4 of you know, I have been extremely frustrated with doing all this hard work and seeing no results! That one compliment made my day. Seriously though. The past couple days I've kinda been noticing that my shirts were feeling a little loose in certain areas but I wasn't sure if I was just making it all up in my head. And then right when I least expected it, BLAMMO! My first compliment on my already foine, soon-to-be smokin' bod. It was the perfect timing too because today marked exactly one month since I made the move to the Great North. Check this though: as great as that moment was for me, it WASN'T the only awesome thing that happened today. Let me set the scene.

Tonight, 7:24: Zumba. I walk in the double doors, take a deep breath of that old hockey equipment air, and saunter over to the front window, where I expect to get my dose of my usually twice weekly fill of flirty banter. Btdubbz, this is the gym that I don't belong to, so I was sauntering for the cute boy who tricked me into signing up. I walk, sorry, I saunter over to the window, and what do I see? Some fourteen year old kid, who didn't even check to see if I was a member. I mean really, if they are just going to assume I'm a member then why, oh WHY am I paying?? Except I guess it's ok, because the cute one always remembers me (by name!!), so I guess he doesn't really need to check my card. Anyway, upon seeing the little turdling I sign the paper and walk downstairs to the Zumba room to join my fellow booty shakers. Then what to my wondering eyes should appear? The cute guy from upstairs and eight tiny reindeer! Just kidding, there were no reindeer. The Brawny paper towel guy (original version, not the new average Joe guy) and three of his other friends decided to take the class tonight!!!! It was pretty hilarious because he has very little coordination but it was still adorable. I have never taken a Zumba class with guys in it before (except for this one time, but he wasn't that cute and his wife was there so it didn't really count) so I was a little nervy-poo but I soon got over it, as I saw this as an opportunity to show him that I know how to shake what my momma and the Big Guy upstairs so kindly bestowed upon me. Having these incredibly cute guys there was actually more motivation for me to put my all into the class. I doubt they'll show up again, and really I don't even know why they were there to begin with, but at least now I have some more ammo for Monday's flirt sesh. Oh yeah! I also noticed during the class that my workout pants are ever so slightly too big for me! Aren't I just so awesome???? I'm glad they have a drawstring on them because I just bought them like 2 weeks ago. And as excited as I am to lose more weight, my wallet is not looking forward to it as much.

A Happy Galentine's Day to All!!!!!

The first thing I'd like to discuss is that I may have a stalker. Or he's at least someone who just can't take the hint. And I don't really know how to handle the situation, mainly because I've never before been presented with such an issue. So I'm opening the floor up to you fine people and asking you to tell me what to do. I met this guy last week at work and did not get a great first impression. The next day he came and talked to me again and I tried to make it clear that I had no interest in speaking with him. For example, I read my book while he was talking to me and gave one word answers if I chose to respond at all. He then proceeded to ask me out for dinner. I told him that being new to the area and all I was still settling in and crazy busy with work and blah blah blah hoping he would get the picture. That was Friday. In the past 72 hours I have received 15 text messages (all with the same sentence: "Hey, it's Bob Lob Law." Literally all of them say the exact same thing.), and 4 phone calls. I have responded to NONE of these attempts to contact me. He also somehow found me on fabo, which was odd to me because he not once has called me by my correct name. He has only called me Nicole. And let's face it, there are like a trillion girls named Nicole out there, so it's kinda strange that he found me so quickly. At this point I am at a loss. I haven't even had the chance to be flattered by this attention because he has just come on waaaaaaay too strong. I don't want to tell him that I'm not looking to date because if word gets around the gym then I'm totally effed. There are some super hot, super nice guys that I've been getting my flirt on with and that kind of rumor would kill all the work I've done. That is all I've got to say on the matter. Now tell me what to do. And now onto bigger and more important things!



Today I received these two Valentine's:









The one on the right is from the Zack Attack (he made it himself!) and the one on the left is from the love of my life. Yes, Homer gave me a Valentine. And yeah ok, maybe it was my sister who bought said Valentine and even forged his name but I knew that he was thinking of me. Because he really loves me. You know how I know? It's because he loves to snuggle with me even when I'm in my sweats and wearing my glasses. That little (he's pretty big actually) pup is just the best thing that ever happened to me. If I never move out of my sister's house it will only be because I couldn't bear leaving that cuddly canine. Ok, here's the thing: I LOVE Valentine's Day. I really do. And not just because I'm a total and complete, hopeless romantic. I mean, I am a romantic, but I wouldn't describe myself as hopeless. Actually, I think Valentine's Day just brings out the girly-girl in me. And yes, I suppose I would have to agree with you when you point out that not only am I the girliest of girls, but I let that side of me out every day. And it's true, it does annoy me that my entire work uniform is black, so much so that I've bought black workout pants that have pink accents on the inside and a pink drawstring. My boss can't see it but I know it's there. And perhaps I have also invested in an new pair of cross trainers that are mostly white but with pink trim. In fact, I am almost positive that my love for Valentine's (get it?) is greatly influenced by the increased use of my favorite color in every day decor. And I don't see anything wrong with that. I know a lot of people are down on Valentine's Day. I mean, if I had a nickel for every time I had to hear someone bash this lovely day, then I would have......I don't know. A lot of nickels. I'm bad at math. The thing that I hate about Valentine's Day is that many (not all, but MANY) attitudes towards the holiday change from year to year, based on whether or not a person HAS a Valentine that year. Well guess what. That is the wrong way to live people! Whether or not you have a man or lady by your side should not EVER have an affect on your happiness or sense of self-worth. Let's face it, almost everybody wants to be with someone else in some way or another. But rushing into a relationship right before Valentine's or simply bemoaning the fact that you have nobody to spend the day with, is just depressing. That means you're either A) So insecure and desperate to be involved with someone on Valentine's Day that you just don't care who you're with, which btdubbz, does not say much for your self respect, or B) Telling yourself that without a significant other, you are not allowed to be happy. THESE THOUGHT PROCESSES ARE NOT OK! Here's the thing: in the Grand Scheme of Things, having a Valentine is just not that important. Unless you're married. And even then it's really not a big deal, because you're married. You've found the love of your life and unless you met each other or exchanged your vows on Valentine's Day, it really won't seem that big a deal ten years down the road. Take myself for example. The only Valentine's Day that I ever actually had a legit Valentine was wonderful. We took a trip up to Boston for the weekend, did dinner, I was given a beautiful necklace, we spent every second of that weekend together. It honestly was everything I had hoped it would be. Well, wouldn't you know that my wonderful, once seemingly perfect Valentine turned out to be none other than the Dark Lord himself? It's true. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was once a very romantic guy. So while that one weekend was filled with love and absolute bliss, it wasn't enough to forget the bad things and it certainly could not make up for the utter shit that I went through for the whole rest of the year. I suppose my point is that nothing is permanent. It doesn't last forever. So whether or not your boyfriend/girlfriend/stalker/crush/no strings hookup buddy that you not-so-secretly have feelings for, sent you flowers or a card or even a heart candy that says "u FOINE" on the front, is not going to matter ten years from now because let's be real here, it'll be nothing short of a miracle. And if the stars really are aligned perfectly and you do by some small miracle end up together, you can always tell the story about how you got a high five for your first Valentine's Day instead of a dozen blood red roses with the thorns cut off so you don't prick your pwecious little fingfings.

Impatient: a flower AND an emotion. Is it an emotion actually? I don't know...

Before the four of you read any further you need to stop, and download Avril Lavigne's new single "What the Hell" because it's a ton of fun and I've decided that it's my new anthem and should be yours too. Ok, now that we've gotten that out of the way it's time to talk about my latest issue. As you may or may not know I have recently found my calling. I have decided that I should become a Disney Wedding Planner. Yes, they exist. I made this decision after watching David Tutera's Disney Dream Wedding special. Once I stopped crying (it was just too moving, really) it became clear to me that this profession is for me. However I have no idea how to make it happen. This is where you guys come in. HOW DO I MAKE THIS HAPPEN???? Step one is to become an actual wedding planner, or at least start working with one. Here's the thing: I am incredibly impatient. Seriously. I've been exercising on a very regular basis but only for the past two weeks. Even though it's only been a couple weeks I am getting impatient trying to see results. And yes it's really supposed to be all about the way I feel, but I feel great! I really do. I'm sleeping better, my skin looks great (though that may be due to my AMAZING facial cleanser. I have very temperamental skin so I have to spend a bundle on face wash but the result is worth it.), and I've been making pretty good eating decisions. Right now I'm focusing on cutting down my portions and adding more veggies into my diet. I'm being very good SO WHERE ARE MY RESULTS??????????????????????? As you can see I'm a tad bit frustrated. I'm really hoping to see some results (and by that I mean just a couple pounds, or maybe my clothes fitting me a little better. I'm not expecting miracles here) soon because I feel like once I can see physical results, I will probably be more motivated. It's hard not to get discouraged but I'm hanging in there.

The "C" Word

Not that word. I'm talking about COMMITMENT. In the past couple weeks that I have been working on my 3 step plan, I have come to realize that I have a HUGE fear of this. The weird thing is that I'm not really scared of being committed to a relationship, it's more or less my Future. I don't know if it's because  my parents both changed their careers after 30-something years, or if it's due to the fact that for four years I attended a school where if someone dared utter the "F" word, three quarters of the student body would drop to the fetal position and beg for mercy while purposely failing their classes. The fact is that it does not matter what caused this anxiety, it exists. Every time I think of where I'll be five years from now my breathing gets all ragged and my throat gets tight and parched. This cannot be a good sign. Here's the thing, the problem is that there are a bunch of things that I can see myself doing and being successful but there isn't that ONE thing that I am completely passionate about. There were times when I thought I was though. Like that time I was a journalism major right out of high school(what???), or the time when I decided I was going to be a cosmetologist...For the record, I did enjoy doing hair (and sometimes still do) but the pressure of having to do it every day and be PERFECT, was not for me. I mean I guess it's good that I'm trying things so I can find out what works and eliminate what doesn't, but the problem is that I haven't found anything that works yet. I love writing, because I'm hilarious, but I don't think I would be successful if I tried to force it out of me. It's pretty much the reason I'm terrified of trying stand up comedy. I know I'm funny, it's just more of a spontaneous kind of thing. I don't think I would be as funny if I tried to write it. What I'm pretty much focused on right now is event planning. Like weddings and parties and stuff. I feel like it's a good fit for me because A) I LOVE DAVID TUTERA AND EVERYTHING HE DOES!!! I even got to meet him with some friends over the summer. It was amazing!!!! B)It's a consistent job but with enough variety that I don't think I will get bored and C)I just love weddings. And parties in general. I know I would be good at this. 
My main issue now is figuring out how to go about doing this because even though there are many amazing and talented Party Planners out there, it's not exactly like schools have a major for this kind of thing. Which is pretty stupid if you ask me. 


This is us with David!! I'm the one to his left, obv. And yes we did make t-shirts. Jealous?