Forever Young-ish…

Anyone catch a glimpse of their reflection in the self-checkout video at Target? Let me tell you, that sucker doesn’t lie. I did yesterday and WTH, like, I’m old now?? Is it just bad lighting?? Tell me it’s bad lighting. Why do I look ill? What’s happening???? I had a full face on, and yet, I looked old af. Someone talk me off a cliff here. Please.

I guess it’s all hitting me because I’ve been on a long-ass trip to Denial City for at least a few years now. Even when I’ve recently been finding gray hairs sprouting up, it’s like my brain turns off from the concept that I’m aging, and goes to a safe place where I assume everyone who sees me out with my two kids probably thinks I’m the nanny. Who do I think I am??! Benjamin Button?

I need to get a grip or at least some Botox… I’ve heavily started my obsessive-level research on all things injections and lasers, thank you very much.

I guess you could say Target was my age defining moment.

But please tell me I’m not alone in this? Was anyone else living in a delusional fantasy until they were thrust into the real world with a firm push in the way of sneaky surveillance cameras revealing their true form? I’m not spiraling or anything. Or rambling. I don’t know why you’d be thinking that.

Tell me your stories of accepting age, please. Or at least tell me how young I look.

Long Time, No Read…

Is anybody out there? …

I repeat…is anybody out there?

Bueller?

Bueller?

Ha.  It’s been a long, long while, but just wanted to pop in to say heyyyyyyyyyyyyy!  Oh, and to give you the link to an essay I wrote, which was featured on HelloGiggles today.  Hooray!  Very excited about that.

And just so you know, I miss you guys like candy…or candaaaaaaaaay (insert Mandy Moore’s twangy voice.)

I promise I’ll be talking to you soon!

http://hellogiggles.com/ode-long-lost-granny-sweater/#read

xo

Sarah

 

Sometimes Being a Grown-Up Means…

Being (genuinely) happy when good things happen for other people.

Using a lint roller to look more presentable.

Learning from past mistakes.

Not wishing that you looked like someone else, were someone else, had someone else’s brains, body, bank account, job, etc.

Eating your vegetables.

Being flexible (and this has nothing to do with yoga, but more to do with giving and taking.)

Being fifteen minutes early (not late) for work.

Wearing sunscreen.

Not always having to get your own way.

Being honest about your flaws, and either embracing them or changing them.

Giving up on always being right.

Putting up with people and/or things that you don’t like (with a smile.)

Paying your bills (on time.)

Overlooking others faults and trusting that they’re probably just trying to do their best too.

Admitting when you’re wrong (and apologizing.)

Remembering your loved ones birthdays.

Giving up your seat on the train, bus, etc. for an elderly, disabled, or pregnant person (happily not grudgingly.)

Making sure to eat breakfast in the morning.

Not blaming other people for your problems.

Taking care of yourself emotionally and physically.

Flossing.

Drinking responsibly.

Going to work even when you don’t feel well.

Respecting other people’s time.

Listening (really listening) without thinking about what you’re going to say next.

~The End.

Picture by: http://thebottomoftheironingbasket.blogspot.com/2010/10/best-kind-of-juggling.html

Stories from the Out Crowd

I pride myself as being someone who marches to the beat of their own drum.  Even as a teenager when so much of your life revolves around what your friends are doing, wearing, or who you surround yourself with, I never really cared much about any of it.

I didn’t go to a regular college, I attended a musical theater conservatory for two years right out of high school, where there were lots of eccentrically awesome theater people, but no fraternities or sororities, and no clubs.  If I had gone to a university, though, I guarantee I would have never joined a sorority.  I have absolutely nothing against them, I think that they can be a great way to meet new people, but I guess I’ve always preferred to do my own thing independently.  On a side note, Legally Blonde always made me want to be part of a sorority…but that’s a different story for a different day.

These girl might make me change my mind about joining a sorority...

It’s been fun always being so independent, but what happens when a self-proclaimed non-joiner tries to, well, join something?

About six months ago I found this blog called HelloGiggles.  It’s this quirky blog, that takes all kinds of different blogs from women and puts them on their site.  The first time I laid eyes on it, I thought I had found some sort of mecca for other girls so similar to me.  It was filled with cute little stories about their collective love for Sweet Valley High books, Judy Blume, and all things Molly Ringwald.  As I looked through the hundreds of posts, I couldn’t believe how much I had in common with these girls.

When I saw the link that said “Contribute To Our Blog,” I got so excited.  I immediately filled out the little form where you can submit three of your posts, tried to think of something witty to say for the “about me” section, and gushed to them how obsessed I was with their blog.  I told them how much I loved Sweet Valley High, and how I tried to form my own “Babysitter’s Club” when I as younger, too.  I sent it in, and immediately got an automated response back that said my submission would be reviewed, and I’d hear back from someone in two weeks.  I patiently waited for two weeks, but after fourteen days…I heard nothing.  There was no formal rejection, and no response saying they wanted to use one of my posts either.  After three weeks had passed, I decided to fill out another form with three different blogs, but again two weeks went by, and nothing.  So, I did it a third, and a fourth, and a fifth…and there was nothing but crickets.

I was disappointed.  I asked myself, “What did I do wrong?  Did they not like my posts?  Didn’t they like me?”  I was so sure they were going to love it, at least one of them…how could I be so wrong?  It was then that I grasped what it must feel like for girls who pledge a sorority, thinking you have found a group of girls where you perfectly fit in, only to not be selected and left wondering why.

The bigger question was why did I care so much?  It wasn’t like me to care about something like this at all.  I think it was because when I finally decided I wanted to be a part of something, I couldn’t.  I hadn’t anticipated that.

It took me back to high school, college, different places I’ve worked, auditions I haven’t landed, and made me remember situations I hadn’t thought about in years where I felt left out.  Had my fiercely independent attitude been nothing more than a defense mechanism all along?

I really can’t be sure, but all I know is, I’ve learned something from this situation.  Sometimes people are going to like you, and sometimes they won’t.  Sometimes everything fits right into place the way you expect it to, and sometimes it doesn’t.  All you can be is you, and nothing more.

It’s kind of like what Dr. Seuss said…

“Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you.”

Sometimes just being you is all you can be, and that’s enough.

~The End

Photos by alphalogistics.us, xfinity.comcast.net, imdb, safenetwork.org

Good Ol’ Bev…

Hooray!  I joined Twitter!

Yeah, I know I’m about 2-3 years late to jump on the bandwagon, but as displayed in my post a few months ago, Today I Realized I’m Not That Cool, that is totally my style anyway.

I have to admit, I never really “got” Twitter before, even when multiple people tried to explain it to me.  Sometimes when people would have their Twitter tweets posted to Facebook, I would be like, “What the H does that mean?” I think it was all the “@’s” that threw me off.  By the way, is anyone else confused by that?!

So, basically I’m like a kid in a candy store on Twitter now, and a total junky.  I love finding all of my favorite celebs, and I now can see why people are obsessed with it, because it can feel like you are really their friends.  Wow, I sound like a total loser, but I think that’s what’s so fascinating about it.  Plus, it’s just another platform for me to rant about random stuff.  So, there’s that.

I think the coolest person I’ve followed so far is Beverly Cleary.  Does anyone remember her?  She was one of my favorite authors growing up.  She wrote the “Beezus and Ramona” books, among lots of others.

Does this jog anyones memory?

Anyway, I am obsessed with reading her tweets, because she is exactly what you would imagine her to be like…kind of a mix between your favorite great-aunt, a G-ma, and a really awesome old lady who is still very much with it, but a bit technologically challenged.  Who isn’t though?!

Good Ol' Bev

I’ve started to refer to her as “Good Ol’ Bev.”  For instance, Matt will ask me, “Hey, what are you doing over there?”  And I’ll answer, “Oh nothing, just reading Good Ol’ Bev’s tweets.”  He usually just shakes his head and laughs at this.

Seriously though, her Tweets are hysterical.

Here are some of her highlights…

“I haven’t logged on in a while. Haven’t found the time! 😦 I’m trying to follow everyone, but it is getting difficult!”

5 minutes later…

“If I don’t follow you immediately, for those of you who are newer followers, I’ll try to do it soon, but I have 124 people to follow…”

6 minutes later…

“…and it can take quite awhile, but please know that even if I’m not able to follow you, that I really wanted to get to know you!” <–See what I mean?!  Good Ol’ Bev!

Here is exactly what I’d imagine her to be like, and Good Ol’ Bev delivers…

“Had a relaxing day, now am re-reading “Little Woman” for what seems to be the hundredth time! I may even know a couple chapters by heart! :)”

Or…

“I am sipping some chamomile tea, curled up with my great-granddaughter, reading her a story.”

My personal favorite… 

“I just received a strange email declaring that I have won a UK E-Lottery. What do you guys think? Spam? Or is it for real?”

Oh Bev…

I think we can all collectively agree that Good Ol’ Bev is kind of the bomb.  I’m also following Judy Blume and she’s pretty funny, too.  For example, her description of herself reads, “Are you there Twitter, it’s me Judy Blume.”  How awesome is that?  It’s an ode to her classic (and one of my faves) “Are You There God, it’s me, Margaret.”

If anyone wants to follow me, I’m @SarahBPalma

And feel free to poke fun at my tweets, too, if you’d like…

~The End

Photos by highlightsparents.com, and amazon.com

I Resolve To:

A New Years Resolution in October?  I think yes!  Every year I make a New Years Resolution and I try really, really hard to stick to it.  Just to give you an idea, some of my resolutions in the past have been: to go back to school and finish my degree, stop drinking pop (or soda whatever you’d prefer to call it.  I’m from Michigan, we say pop), start exercising regularly, start a blog, and start reading directions (because reading directions is one of the banes to my existence.)

So, this week I got to thinking about what my resolution will be for next year.  Typically l start to come up with an idea a few months in advance, so once New Year Day comes around, I’m not scrambling to come up with something on the fly.

Care to fill in the blank?

As ideas started coming to me, I couldn’t help but think~ Why do we wait until January to make these resolutions?  Why not start now?!

I had never thought of it that way before.  I’m sure by January 1st I will have come up with other ideas as well, but for now, these are the resolutions I am going to start today…or maybe tomorrow, because some of these are really hard.

5.)  Limit writing posts on Facebook to once a week, and keep them benign.  Also, sign onto Facebook once every few days, and nothing more than that.

Well, I have learned over the past few years through my tumultuous relationship with Facebook that no matter what you write, someone has an opinion, unless it’s something really harmless like, “Hooray!  I’m getting married today!!”  Then, what can someone say?  There is no leeway for it to get personal.  I vow to stop writing anything on Facebook that could be misconstrued in any way, shape, or form, today!  No matter how meaningless I think what I’m writing is, if there is any part of me that has hesitation about it, then it doesn’t go up.  Period.

Also, get off Facebook already!  God, what is my problem?  I am always saying how annoying Facebook is and blah, blah, blah, yet I continue to go on every day.  Not anymore.  I will not go on Facebook more that once every few days, as to avoid the Facebook burn out.

Wow, I feel better already!  Don’t you?

4.)  Quit being so hard on myself.

I am by far my toughest critic.

For example~  “Why did I get a B?  I could have gotten an A.”

Or…

“If I don’t make the Deans List again this semester, than that means I suck at school.”

Or the one I am famous for lately…

“I’m getting a wrinkle on my forehead,  why the h isn’t this wrinkle cream working?” <-Said with great despair.

Why would any normal human being think these things?  I hear myself saying them, but it doesn’t register that they’re irrational.  I mean, now that I’m writing it down I can see it, but why when I am in the moment do I not understand that?  Whatever the reason, it’s clear I have to stop the destruction now.

3.)  Stop cutting my hair.

This picture is giving me anxiety...Yikes.

You all remember what happened the last time I cut my hair, right?  Somehow every time I do it, I seem to think the result is going to be different.  Isn’t that the definition of insanity?  However, the next time I go to reach for the scissors, I will get an imaginary slap on the wrist.

That’s it, no more cutting my own hair, and that means bangs, too, missy!  You got that?

2.)  Stop trying to map out the future.

I’ve noticed that I am always thinking ahead.  I am always planning for a worst case scenario, or looking into the future for what it might hold.  Most of the time this makes me feel like I am going bonkers.  I vow to start taking a breather and just living in the moment more, instead of planning for what’s coming next.

Now for the last one, also known as the most important one…

1.)  Start seeing the glass half full.

Half full or half empty? You decide.

Well, this is going to be a tough one.  In fact, I’m not entirely positive that I can actually stick with it.  I know it sounds a bit cynical to admit to being a “glass half empty” person, but I don’t look at it that way.  The way I see it, is that I am realistic.  Matt is the dreamer, and I am the voice of reason usually.  However, I admire his outlook on life.  He is a very positive person, and he is not afraid of his dreams.  He’s also not afraid of failing.  How many people can really say that they’re not afraid of failing?  Yeah, Matt’s pretty awesome.  That’s why I married him.

Anyway, I heard a Steve Jobs quote right after he passed away, and to me, it pretty much summed up Matt.  The quote was, “Stay hungry, stay foolish.”  I’ve decided I want to be more like that, foolish, because although being realistic can protect you from disappointment, it doesn’t enable you to take the kinds of risks that pay off big time.

So, what are some of your New Year’s Resolutions?

~The End…

Shall We Brunch?

There is something so divine about brunching, isn’t there?  When I’m in New York, one of my very favorite things to do on a Sunday afternoon is to go to brunch, and to order my uj of a goat cheese, tomato, and basil omelet, a spicy (non-alchy) bloody mary, a cup of coffee with full fat half and half and two splenda’s, and a homemade muffin to pick at on the side.  That’s what I usually order at my favorite brunch joint, Isabella’s, anyway…

So, lately I’ve felt a little melancholy about my old brunching days, and just a little reflective about NYC in general.  Since I’ve been in Grenada, this time of year has been the hardest for me, because you don’t really know me, if you don’t know about my love for the fall in New York.  I mean, there’s a reason why they’ve made movies called Autumn in New York.  It makes me sad every time I think about another fall season going by that I’m missing.  There is just something about drinking a non-fat extra hot chai latte, while traipsing around  Central Park and looking at the beautiful changing leaves.  In my opinion, it’s just the most gorgeous time of year, and as a friend and I once dubbed it: the most amazingly awesome weather for fashion ever (hence the perfect time to sport a t-shirt and a scarf, a skirt and cute riding boots, a dress with a light fall jacket, etc.)

Can't you see why I love it so?

So, when I was invited over by a friend of mine for brunch at her apartment, it came at the perfect time and when I needed it the most.  I took my invitation to the brunch very seriously and baked a homemade pumpkin bread from scratch.  It was raining while I was baking, and for a minute, the spicy smell of the bread made me feel like it was really fall weather out, and not the 100 degrees that it really was.

I honestly looked forward to my little event with the girls all weekend, and when it came time, it was just so much fun to do something different for a change.  It can get pretty monotonous around here, so it was fun to shake things up a bit.

We had good conversation…

FYI: This conversation was definitely not as serious as it seems to be...

We had a delish spread of treats…

Yes, the watermelon is yellow here...Weird, huh?

Delish egg fritata, watermelon, blueberry bran muffin, pumpkin bread, and a mimosa to top it off right...

A cute little puppy for company, too…

Chewy was so ready for his close up...

Wouldn’t be complete without a little girl talk…

A little gossiping never hurt anyone...okay, so that's not true, but let's face it, sometimes it's needed.

It was a fun morning, and definitely did the trick in making me miss New York a wee bit less.  However, when I walked outside after my lovely get together, and I felt the heat beating down on my shoulders, I realized there was unfortunately nothing that could make me miss my favorite season in New York less…except for maybe New York itself.

~The End

Central Park photo by stephaniefrost.net

The Great Joys of Language Barriers…

Has this ever happened to you?

Oh yes, why yes it has, hasn't it?

I am not even kidding, this seriously happens to me at least five or six times a day.  No, I’m not deaf or anything, I just can’t understand what the h anyone is saying around here.  In Grenada, the official language is English, however every day language is laced with French words and the local dialect (similar to Creole) or Patois.  It’s pretty typical for me to get about 30% of what the local Grenadian’s are saying to me, and the other 70% is a total bust.  I usually just end up smiling and nodding, and saying my default line which is, “Wow, that’s crazy.”  <–On a side note, I want to say that this is not intentionally my default line, for instance, I don’t say it on purpose, but I have noticed that I say this whenever I don’t know what else to say.  For instance, if I’m making uncomfortable small talk, and someone says something like, “Wow it’s so hot out today, eh?”  I’ll respond with my uj (usual) “Wow, that’s crazy,” because what the (bleep) else is there to say to that anyway?!

Matt (husband) is even worse with making sense of the language here, but that might also be because he doesn’t exactly get out much <–This due to being the hard-working med student that he is no doubt.  Anyway, so when we go out to dinner on the rare occasion, maybe 2 or 3 times a semester at the most, I feel like I am basically a translator.  Have you ever watched a boxing match, when the winner doesn’t speak a lick of English?  You know how it goes, the interviewer asks a question, then the translator relates it back to the boxer, the boxer answers, translator relates answer back to the interviewer, and so on and so forth.  Well, that is basically what I do when we’re out to dinner, except I am also only getting less than half of what the locals are saying too!  Oh Lordy!  So, overall when ordering at a restaurant, best case scenario is that we end up getting sorta kinda what we meant to order, and worst case scenario is, we end up getting fish when we ordered “lambi,” thinking it was going to be a delicious lamb-chop. <–Yeah, that actually happened.  After the fact, we learned that “lambi” is popular local dish around here, but it is not lamb, it’s a type of conch shell-fish.  I guess it was meant to be, though, because I’ve always had a certain affinity for sweet Lamb-Chop herself, even if she does sing the most annoying song that never ends…yes it goes on and on my friends…

Step away from my Lamb Chop, and no one will get hurt...

The funny thing about the locals here, is that when they’re speaking to one another, they speak so softly that I sometimes have to wonder if they’re even talking at all, or if they’re just moving their lips for kicks.  Along with speaking what sounds like almost an entirely different language, they also speak extremely soft.  Well, I guess compared to me, but I’ve been told I sound like my voice is coming out of a loud-speaker at times…so there’s that…but I seriously have no idea how they hear each other!  The other day I was getting turkey from the deli, and I walked up and said confidently, “A pound and a half of the no-salt turkey, sliced very thin, please.”  Since the locals also have a hard time understanding me as well, I usually take it upon myself to project nice and loud/clearly.  It doesn’t help.  They have no idea what I’m saying whatsoever.  I usually end up having to just point to it in the glass cooler, and accept the fact that my special request of “sliced thinly” is just not going to happen today.  Boo.

Please, just once can you slice my turkey thin? Please kind lady?!

As I mentioned before, I’ve witnessed a local Grenadian ordering an array of deli meats and cheeses, speaking in a tone so softly that I couldn’t even hear the woman, and she was standing right next to me.  I had to restrain myself from doing what my late great Grandpa Barkoff would’ve done, which is to declare extremely loudly, “WHAT WAS THAT YOU SAID????!!!!”  I mean, I wouldn’t have proceeded to ask for a senior citizen discount (which is precisely what G-Pa Barkoff would have done) but seriously the tone was so muffled, I thought I might be having a senior moment!  I totally admire that the locals are not straining their vocal chords, but please for the love, I can’t understand what you’re saying double-fold when I can’t hear you, either!

Oh, the great joys of language barriers…they never cease to amaze me.

I guess I need to just accept the fact that I’m going to be…

On a daily basis.

Oh well.  I guess sometimes you have to just make the best of it, eh?

(P.S. Please don’t respond to that with, “Wow, that’s crazy.”)

~The End

Photos courtesy of IMDB and worldhum.com

Detroit…WE NEEDED THIS!!!

So, tonight Detroit beat the Yanks!  In doing so the Tigers eliminated New York in the division series for the second time in six seasons.

I definitely shrieked like a wild banshee when they won…

Holy sh*tballs we won!!

Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes!!

Yeah, that happened. Woo-hoo!

I have to admit, last week when my New York family wanted to make a bet with me on who was going to win, I was weary.  I believed in the Tigers, but let’s face it, the Yankees are kind of the bomb lately…and not lately too.

As I have mentioned before, I am a native Detroiter and was born and raised in the mitten state.  That’s why I couldn’t even think about rooting for the Yanks (even though I’ve lived in New York for over 10 years now.)

I couldn’t root for the Yanks, you see, because Detroit is my hometown.  Period.

As I mentioned before, Detroit needed this.  Detroit has been through a hell of a lot lately, and tonight was finally our time to shine, and we did.  It’s no secret that I get a little sensitive when people bad mouth my home state.  It’s sad that there is such a stigma behind where I’m from, and it’s hard not to get down when it constantly gets such a bad rap.  I may be petite, but I will take anyone on that has anything to say about the D and fight the bitter battle.  Why, might you ask?  Well, because it’s simple…

I believe.

People just assume Detroit is going under, and that it’s a place that is filled with nothing but violence.  By the way, these things are mostly assumed by people who have never even stepped foot in Detroit, let alone walked a mile in our shoes.  No matter what, there is one fact that always remains…

Detroit is for fighters…plain and simple…We’re scrappy…but most of all…

We have heart.

The Tigers displayed that immense heart tonight.

And nobody can take that away from us.

Go Tigers!

How we learn the alphabet in Detroit.

One Stack of Sh*t Away From an Episode of Hoarders…

I cannot wait until Matt and I don’t have to live like hoarders anymore.

Let me explain…

Living in Grenada in married student housing is, well, interesting.  It makes a tiny studio apartment living in Manhattan look like a palace compared to this.  Basically we have no oven, only two burners, one teeny tiny table that’s not even big enough for two people to eat on, no counter space whatsoever, a tiny sink that fits about two dishes, thankfully a microwave at the least, and to sum it up, we basically sleep 7 feet away from where we cook.  Ugh.

There is literally no closet space or storage space either, for that matter.  In our bathroom, we don’t even have one shelf, so all of our bathroom stuff is either piled in our closets or on Matt’s desk.  Yeah, we’ve been pretty much living like two college freshman roomies for the past two years.

It’s seriously gotten to a point, where recently I was flipping through television stations (Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, we actually don’t have a TV either <–no room for one, but thankfully we have Slingbox on our computers), and I passed an episode of Hoarders, and it seriously hit a little too close to home.  My forehead began to sweat, and I realized…(hint: read below…)

Seriously.

It’s time to face the music, and come to terms with this fact.  When people come to our apartment for the first time, they usually all say the same thing, which is, “Why do you guys have so much stuff???  You’re living in Grenada, just deal with not having all your normal stuff for a while!”  However, for Matt and I, that is not an option.  <–Insert a Bwaaaahhhaaaahaaaa Bwaaaahaaaaa laugh right here, to personify just how completely ludicrous an option like that is to us.  If you knew us, than you would know that we are two people who some might call “characters,” and we’re also pretty stuck in our ways.  We’re both very particular about the things we like, and we’d rather live like hoarders, than not have all of our favorite stuff.  Yeah, we’re pretty irrational people.

However, I must say, that I’m happy we both prefer to live this way, because if I was the only one like that, then Matt might complain to his friends that he married a crazy hoarder lady, and that would be really bad, don’t ya think?!

On another side note, we are so much alike in other ways, too, that it’s downright scary.  For instance, we both get on what I like to call a “food fixation kick,” which is when we decide we like something, and then that is literally all we eat for about 3-12 months, until one day we eat it, and then we decide that we’re over it.  I’ve never met anyone else who does that besides me in my life!  Let me give you an example of some of my food fixation kicks:  Healthy Choice minestrone soup (lasted about 6 months), Oreo O’s cereal (about 11 months when I was 19), Special K with Red Berries cereal (12 months), Santa Fé Rice and Beans Lean Cuisine (5 months), and generic brand Bran Flakes cereal (5 months).  Matt’s food fixations:  Potato Buds (from what I’m told this lasted about 12 months), Mrs. T’s Potato and Onion Pierogi’s (still going), chocolate chip granola bars (6 months), spinach (still going), and also generic brand Bran Flakes cereal (about 6 months).  I know, I know, we’re kind of a couple of weirdo’s, especially with the generic bran flakes…P.S.  One time we went to the grocery store and bought their entire supply of bran flakes, and everyone looked at us like we were totally nuts.

Okay, so that had absolutely nothing to do with living like hoarders, but it shows how much alike we are, so there.

I just wanted to share one example of our hoarders situation…

See what I mean? P.S. This is my closet organized.

I could show you more, but it might just make you tense.  For example we have to keep some of our non-perishable food in suitcases because we have no room to store it in the cupboards, but you didn’t want to see that, did you?

Luckily, we only have about two more months living here, and then it’s back to the United States, so Matt can take his Step 1 exam and begin his clinical rotations.  I really hope our next apartment has a dishwasher, or at the very least, a big enough sink that I can at least wash a pot in comfortably.  I’m really just looking forward to being back on American soil, because sometimes living here makes me feel as though I’m living on Gilligan’s Island, but without The Skipper, Gilligan, Mr. and Mrs. Howell, and Maryann. <–Did you notice that I left out Ginger and The Professor?  It’s because that’s who Matt and I would be.

Hey Prof...What's shakin'?

Anyway, when we are finally back in the U.S. I am really looking forward to some frozen yogurt, McDonald’s, a Starbucks mocha-coconut frappuccino light w/no whip, a decent mani and pedi, perhaps a shopping spree at Forever 21, and a meal at Rosa Mexicano with double guac.  I haven’t had any of these things in so long, and I kind of feel like I’m losing my marbles.

The good news is that we are flying back to New York Rock City on my freaking birthday, December 10th!  Can you believe it?!  Soon after we’re back, we will start looking for apartments wherever Matt gets placed for clinicals, and I cannot wait for the new and exciting prospects.

But more than anything else, I am looking forward to not living like hoarders anymore.

Hip hip hooray!

~The End

Photos from IMDB and someecards.com