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Posts Tagged ‘partner in crime’

Two years.

That’s how long I’ve now been at this whole blogging thing. Which actually makes this my longest relationship to date. Awesome.

And just when I thought I wouldn’t have anything left to write about, grad school came along and brought with it more inspiration. (And more stress, making this outlet even more necessary.)

So how do you celebrate two years? With a trip up to Philly, of course!

This weekend we’ll be visiting with my girlfriends, celebrating PIC‘s engagement, shopping for bridesmaid dresses (well, that’s just one of us), and running the ING Rock ‘n’ Roll Philadelphia Half Marathon!

The Philly half is one of my favorite races, not least of all due to the awesome medal you get at the finish line.

I can’t wait to add another one to my collection. And, of course, to see what motivational signs the spectators come up with this year.

Happy weekend!

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Everyone tells me that I’m at that age where all of my friends are getting married. And that might be true. Last year, around this time, we were [shit shows] at Steph’s wedding. Next year, it’ll be BB’s.

And tomorrow, tomorrow is Gaff’s.

I’m SO excited – though, also a little bit nervous.

Or rather, I’m excited for her (and to see all my high school girl friends), but nervous for me, because this will also be the first time that the boyfriend will be meeting that group. It’s not exactly like I was a wild child in high school…but I had my moments. And all of those moments were with this group of ladies.

I’m guessing that he’ll be questioning both my intelligence and my sanity by the time it’s all done.

Though, he’ll probably be right to do so, even without the high school stories. Because, if Gaff’s reception is anything like Steph’s (similar group of people and it’s in the same place), we’ll be taking shots, requesting throwback songs from the DJ, and jumping off the stage when we hear “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life.”

Because we’re classy. And that’s just how we do.

Have a great weekend! I know I will.

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With the passing of Michael Jackson, several people in the blogosphere have written posts about growing up with his music, and just how much certain songs meant to them and contributed to their memories. And it made me think about music in general, and the amazing amount of influence and recall-power that it has.

memorylane

There are the traditional, perhaps cliche, memories – the prom theme songs, for instance. My favorite prom’s theme song was “Fields of Gold” and, while I don’t hear it often, when I do, it takes me back to one of those perfect nights, when you wouldn’t change a thing.

But there are also those songs that you hear – maybe in the car during a road trip, or with a certain person, or the ones that you don’t even realize are significant until you hear them again – that are just as memorable.

  • When I hear Bon Jovi, I think of high school dances, shouting the chorus to “Livin’ on a Prayer.”
  • Rihanna makes me think of last summer, when “Rehab” was constantly playing on my iPod, for better or worse. And “Disturbia“, surprisingly enough, takes me back to last summer’s week at God camp, as we listened to it in the car, non-stop.
  • Additionally, at the risk of completely embarrassing myself, I used to own the Ja Rule CD “Pain is Love” (I sadly can’t find it anymore) which reminds me of PiC and myself driving around back home, in our high school years, looking for just enough trouble to have fun, but not enough to cause any lasting damage. Those stories could be posts, in and of themselves.

Some memories are more bittersweet than others, but there’s something – I don’t know, comforting, maybe? – about being transported back in time, just for a three-minute song span. Music is your own little time machine.

The best songs, though, are the ones that you can listen to over and over again, the ones that you never tire of, because they have the power to evoke multiple memories and be a time capsule of sorts. I have one from high school (“Drops of Jupiter“), that’s full of memories, and one from this past year (“Use Somebody“)* that I can feel filling up.

And when I play them, it’s two very distinct trips down memory lane.

What about you? Which song(s) would you call your time machine?

*And here, just because I love it:


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Yes, indeed.

As I mentioned earlier this week, I have a bachelorette party to go to this weekend, and I could not be more excited.

1) I found some adorable personality panties. In fact, I almost kept them for myself.

2) We have a party bus: ’nuff said.

Who needs the bar when you have this?

Who needs the bar when you have this?

3) The Flirty Fitness classes on our schedule will include one class each of striptease, chair dancing, and pole dancing. I don’t know if I’d call these “life skills,” but they could certainly be conversation starters. Hopefully I don’t end up like any of these:

Game on.

Wish me luck!

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I wrote once about how skiing and I don’t get along. Or, as I like to say, how I skied on my face. And yet, I’m at it again, heading out of town this weekend to face potential disaster. Why, you might ask, am I doing something that I’ve had so little previous success in? Three reasons:

1) PiC is making me and I’m an excellent friend. She and her boyfriend had already rented the house and offered demanded that I and another friend join them. She’s pretty feisty, trust me; you wouldn’t want to cross her either.

2) There’s still a chance that we could possibly go tubing instead of skiing! Much less chance of injury. (Plus PiC told me I could bring my flask. Although, would that increase the risk of injury? Hmm.) I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

3) Regardless, even if we neither ski nor tube, it’s still a weekend away from the city, doing something different. (And by “different” I mean drinking with friends from home in the Poconos instead of with friends in DC. See? Two completely different things.)

If the snow gods are smiling, I’ll spend my weekend doing this:

cube_snow_tubing_01And NOT come back like this:

black-eye

I mean, the smile’s fine. The swollen eye, however, might be a pain in the ass, and really doesn’t go with the whole business casual look I sport during the week.

Wish me luck!

Ed. Note: The picture of the swollen eye is NOT me. Promise. But thanks for everyone’s concern!

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In honor of New Year’s Eve, I thought I’d share a little something from a past celebration. To jog my memory a bit, I started thumbing through my journal (which I started in March…of 2001 – seriously, it’s a wonder I write a post nearly every day, when I can’t fill a notebook with the past seven years of my shenanigans). I came across an early entry about New Year’s 2001, when I had no plans and was, apparently, an extremely jaded sixteen-year-old (with a potty mouth).

He said if they found anything fun, he’d give me a call. It’s okay. I know he won’t. I know that all boys are f***heads. Some are more lovable than others. Some are better liars. Some are better looking. But in the end, they’re all f***heads. It’s a shame really. But even in the end, the nice ones are bad, too. You know, PIC really picked a bad time to leave me. F*** her, too.

What a bundle of joy I was. And not over dramatic at all. Nope. Not. At. All.

Honestly, I read that now and I laugh. It all boils down to my biggest NYE 2001 concern being that I didn’t have plans. (Hey, who ever said teenage girls were rational?) And it could have been worse. I could have had to break up an impending fight, like I did three years ago.

At that time, I was still in Paris after my semester abroad, and some friends from college had come to spend New Year’s Eve there. We were at my then-boyfriend’s apartment (yes, I was cliché and dated a French guy while abroad) and everything was going well – his friends were mixing with mine, and everyone knew enough common language to get by. And then I heard a dispute in the corner.

My friend, J, was super drunk agitated about something and was yelling at one of the French guys. I knew she didn’t speak much French (if any), so I went over to try to mediate the situation.

Liebchen: What’s wrong? What happened?

J: He called me a man!

[French guy looks both confused and shocked]

Liebchen: (to FG) What did you say?

*Note: I don’t remember now exactly what was said. But I DO remember that he in no way called this girl a man.

Liebchen: Okay, J, this is what he said. [explanation] He didn’t call you a man. It’s just a misunderstanding.

J: Don’t you tell me what he said! I know French! I speak French! [Note: NOT TRUE. She speaks Spanish.]

Liebchen: (to J) All right. Why don’t we go over here? (to FG) Walk away, NOW. (Really, it was for his own good. J gets kind of feisty from time to time.)

Thankfully, there were no punches thrown or faces slapped (that was definitely a possibility) and everyone made it out in one piece. But for a while after we DID have to hear her remind us about “that French guy that called me a man!”

Here’s to fewer miscommunications in 2009.

Cheers!

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*Cher Horowitz, Clueless

Being home for the Thanksgiving long weekend was a much-needed break from DC. It was refreshing (even though I came back sick), and it was a welcome reminder that some things never change.

  • Like my best girl friends from high school – we can still pick up right where we left off.
  • Like my parents’ friends at church, who always ask me a) how work is, and b) if I’m dating anyone yet.
  • Like Black Friday, when my mother and I brave the crowds and “save” money, by only buying things on sale.clueless
  • Like PIC, who introduces me to a new guy every time I go back to Philly.

In this case, though, there was a welcome difference. The guy she introduced me to this time was much funnier and more entertaining than some from the past. And I’m a sucker for someone who can make me laugh. At one point, he asked me what two movies I would stop everything and watch, if they came on TV right then. And then he answered: Ghostbusters and Clueless.

It’s okay. I laughed, too. (Surprisingly, though, he’s not the first guy I’ve met who loves that movie.) But the better part was that he laughed at himself. And it made me think about the qualities of those certain movies – the ones you always have to stop and watch.

It wasn’t one of my answers for him then, but flipping through channels last night, I came across Invincible. And I had to keep it on. It’s not just because it’s about the Eagles (though, that doesn’t hurt); I feel the same way about Miracle and Remember the Titans. It’s partially the underdog story, and partially the fact that it’s true (or based on truth). Plus, I still get chills every time Papale scores against the Giants.

invincible

And no matter how often I’ve seen each of those movies, I never get tired of watching them. It’s one of those things that I hope never changes.

Now I’m curious: my original two movies were Empire Records and Boondock Saints (though, admittedly, it may change with my mood) – what would yours be?

Indulge me.

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