THE SOUND OF SILENCE

R.I.P Spring Break. David and I spent the week up at the cabin, skiing and....couching. Lots of couching. It was so great. We slept in, ate when (and what) ever we wanted, watched movies in the middle of the day, and the best part was I didn't even feel guilty about it.

A massive amount of snow was dumped on our little town Thursday and it was like nothing I've ever seen before. Keep in mind, my man is a city boy through and through. Before Chicago, he was born and raised in St. Louis proper. He'd never experienced the kind of quiet a town with a population of 700 can offer. In the middle of this snow storm, we went for a walk. All of a sudden, he stops walking and shushes me. My mind immediately goes to us being devoured by a large animal, because...obviously. "Do you hear that?" he says. "Hear what?" "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I can hear the snow falling". It was kind of cool to watch him feel that for the first time.

After a week of bliss, we're finally back home. Just those few days away have made this city seem SO fricken loud it's unbelievable. Also, I'm pretty sure the number of people walking outside in the five blocks surrounding my apartment right now equal the number of people residing in that tiny town....

I BELIEVE IN A THING CALLED LOVE

The other day a friend was talking about a speech he had to give about something he believed in. What a horribly broad topic. Where do you even go with that? All I kept thinking was thank GOD it wasn't me with the assignment. There are so many things I believe in, but how do you convey that belief to an outsider? I mean I believe in God, I believe in doing the right thing, in helping others. I believe in coffee, lots and lots of coffee. But how do you write about any of these things?

Later that night, it smacked me in the face. Love. Love is what I believe in, above all else. I've already told you, I'm a hopelessly corny romantic. But it's not even just that lovey dovey kind I believe in (although I totally do). I am lucky enough to say that my parents are my greatest example of love. They love each other with such ferocity. They will be married 30 years in May and they honestly love each other more every day. I never once saw them fighting as I was growing up, which doesn't mean they didn't fight. They just valued each other, and my brother and I, enough not to let us see that. They are best friends. If I had a dollar for every time my dad has told me, "I love your mom so much", I would be set.

Not only do they love each other, but they love my brother and I immensely. I have never gone a day without them telling me this. This seems like part of the parent job description, but I have learned that not every kid experiences this. I have so much appreciation for the family dynamic my parents created.

I believe in love because of my best friend. Another thing I have learned is that not everyone has a Rose. A best friend who loves them unconditionally. God knows we have had our ups and downs, but we find a way to come back better and stronger.

I believe in love because of my family and my "family". I have so many aunts and uncles and cousins that make living life better. I also have a lot of friends who aren't really friends but more like family (hence the "family"). They are the ultimate support system.

I believe in love because of my work peeps. They have all become my dear friends and they make every day fun. We all have such an appreciation for each other and the things we bring to the table that makes our team work so well.

Now onto the lovey dovey part, you knew it was coming. I believe in my own kind of love because of David. I know that I am so young to have something like this, but he's taught me so much about myself and what I see for my future. I never really dated anyone seriously before him. All through high school and the first couple years of college, everyone had these boyfriends and someone to bring with them to family parties. I was always the third wheel or the one being forcibly set up with the boyfriend's friend with bad intentions. I was patiently waiting for my turn. And then maybe not so patiently. Then I gave up. And then I met David. You know how people tell you not to settle for a man unless you would be proud to have him as a son? I hit the jackpot. He makes me laugh. He makes me love myself. He make me feel better and safe. He is my favorite person to be around. He is home for me.

I am loved so unselfishly. The people in my life make my heart so so incredibly happy. THAT is why I believe in love.

'SCUSE ME, DOCTA SAY WHAT?

This morning while I was doing my ritual "Scroll Through Twitter Before Getting Out of Bed", I came across a link to a video that floored me (I posted it below). CNN's Piers Morgan interviewed this doctor in New York who is offering pro-bono (free) plastic surgeries to victims of bullying. He says that while obviously nobody wants bullying in schools, it is naive and stupid to think that we can stop it by stopping the bullies. He says there will always be bullies and that the solution is to take away the things the victim is being bullied for.

Uhhhh, am I the only one that has a huge issue with this?! It's disgusting on so many levels! This is telling the victim that THEY are the problem, THEY are faulty and broken, THEY need to be fixed. That is just the wrong message to be sending. The problem is with the parenting. These bullies are going to mimic the behavior and aggression they see their parents displaying because they think that is what is acceptable.

A while ago, I saw a bumper sticker that said, "My kid beat up your honor student". And we wonder why kids are committing suicide in record numbers. When are people going to wake up and realize this stuff isn't a joke? These kids are in such a fragile stage. Middle school and high school SUCK. (speaking from my own shitty experience).

Kids are mean and vicious. They don't realize the immense power behind their words. They are constantly being told from peers and the media that they aren't pretty enough or smart enough or cool enough or GOOD enough. And this jackass comes in and solidifies that thought to these kids. What we need to be doing is solving the issue, not just camouflaging it with effing plastic surgery on 14 year olds. It starts at home. And if it doesn't start at home, it needs to be stopped at school. Teachers need to be given the power and the tools to provide a safe place for these bullied kids. The cyber bullying excuse ("Well it didn't happen on school grounds, so technically we can't do anything about it") is utter bullshit. These students cannot be terrified to walk into their classroom. Legislation needs to catch up with the internet. Because these kids need to know that they are far more than "good enough".

L FOR LOOOOVE

Happy Valentines Day to you peeps! What a strange day this is. It puts pressure on people in relationships and it makes single people feel shitty. And shouldn't you show the people you love that you love them every other day, too? Except I have a confession: I secretly love Valentine's Day. Before David, I never really had anyone exceptional to spend Valentine's Day with. Other than that one time sophomore year of high school when a boy presented me with flowers and asked me to be his official, actual "girlfriend". Giggle. But there's something about the palpable love in the air that just gets me. People are happy, guys are walking down the street with flowers and chocolates, there is just so much possibility. I should probably just admit to myself that I'm a hopeless romantic, but I still feel like I'm above that. I'm in the closet.

That being said, David is probably the least romantic man on the planet. And I'm SO okay with that. It would drive me nuts if he was cheesy. And it makes it even more special when he says or does nice things. So I wasn't expecting much for this Valentine's Day and I really was okay with that. But sure enough, I opened my front door to a David with a dozen roses behind his back. I definitely wasn't mad about that.

His dad called a little later just to check in and say hi. After expressing David's hatred for this unofficial holiday, his dad summed the day up in the most perfect way. "It's just a day to show appreciation for that person who puts up with all of your weird, annoying quirks and loves you despite of them".

Let me tell you, David has a lot of quirks. Weird, annoying quirks. But at the end of the day, most of those things are reasons I love him. And he makes every day and moment better, happier, and complete. What else could I possibly ask for? He makes my life full and way more fun.

So even if you don't have a lovah, Valentine's Day is a day to show appreciation to the people you care about. Share the warm fuzzies and make em feel special.

And if all else fails, follow Leslie Knope's lead.

JUST A 4x3 RECTANGLE

NEW ADDICTION ALERT. Game of Thrones. Please do me (and yourself) the favor and just leave well enough alone. It sucks you in and then rips your heart out and stomps on it. The blood, the guts, the sex, the swords. What's not to love? After resisting the G.O.T peer pressure from everyone around me for months, I finally gave in. I've zoomed through the first two season because I just can't stop. God, this entire description sounds like a really unhealthy relationship. Also, an obscene amount of people die. Even the likable main characters you think are safe. I'm learning to not get attached to anyone.



If you've never seen an episode, there's something you have to know before I continue. It's incredibly complex. I don't know if it's the medieval language, the storyline, the enormous amount of characters (WHO ALL LOOK ALIKE?!), or what. But I need to be completely devoted for the entire hour to fully grasp what's going on. If I look down to respond to a text, next thing I know, someone gets axed or is having sex with his sister and I am just totally lost (couldn't make that up if I tried).

As I've started watching this show, I have become uncomfortably aware of how attached I am to my cellphone. Obviously I know how connected my generation in particular is. As a Public Relations chick, I study it and I capitalize on it. As a 20 year old chick, I live it. I wasn't a stranger to the fact. But not being able to look at my phone for that 57 minutes killed me at first. I was very uncomfortable just sitting there and watching something. I wasn't looking at my texts, scrolling through Instagram or Twitter, or refreshing my Facebook page every 4 minutes hoping something exciting would be happening (spoiler alert: nothing exciting ever happens on Facebook). I wouldn't go so far as to say I was twitching, but it was close enough to make me aware I have an addiction issue.



Our phones are such a strange thing. EVERYTHING is right at our fingertips. We are constantly accessible. Whether that's a good thing or bad thing, jury's still out. Even if you decide to leave your phone at home, you are expected to be able to get a hold of. If I need someone, text them, and they don't respond within 20 minutes, I get agitated. "I know they have their phone." But think about it. Rewind 10 years, and we weren't dependent on this stupid 4x3 concoction of plastic and temper-glass. And now it's our lifeline.

I have made a pact with myself. Two hours a day, step AWAY from the phone. Leave it at home when I go out for dinner, put it in my room when my roommate and I are both home together, whatever it is. I don't like the idea of being so dependent on this thing. So phone, let's work on this relationship. It's not you, it's me. Actually, it might be a little bit you.

P.S, at least I'm not as weird as this lady...

WHY I COULD NEVER BE ON THE BACHELOR

Admitting that I watch "The Bachelor" is something that I will never do. Except I guess I just did. But just listen for a minute before you go thinkin I'm the kind of girl that watches The Bachelor. I had always prided myself on never seeing a single episode, didn't even have an ounce of interest. But last year I had a friend who was addicted to the show but she didn't have TV. She didn't think her poor little heart could hang on until the day after the episode would air to watch it online, so she would come over to my house on Monday nights to watch it. And I'm not just gonna let her watch it by herself. Obviously, I had to be a supportive friend and sit with her. It like sucks you in, okay? So yes. I did watch a season of The Bachelor. Sean and Catherine's season. And I loved every second of it. But I also hated myself for loving it. It was a major tug of war. I have not seen a season since then, and probably won't ever. But still, it happened.

I am also ashamed to admit that I tuned into the first half of Sean and Catherine's wedding special last night. What's worse? When I couldn't watch the second half, I recorded it. What's even worse than that? I CRIED when I watched the ceremony today after work. Sobbed. I'm a self proclaimed sap, but that's a new level even for me.



When I shamefully admitted to my roommate what I had done a mere hour before she got home (and had to walk away from the conversation when she cynically bet me they would be divorced in six months and were only doing it for the paycheck), we started talking about how awful it would be to be a contestant on that show. And here's why.

The Competition. I am a peacemaker. The most non-confrontational of sorts. At the first sign of conflict, I tend to run. That's not to say I don't like some healthy, all-in-good-fun competition. But this whole thing is cut throat as hell. I would die.



The Girls. That many girls fighting over the same hottie? That just sounds miserable. All the high maintenance-ness living in one house? Thanks but no thanks.




The Jealousy. Good God, this is reason enough for me to never apply. The thought of witnessing girls fawning over the guy you like, and having him reciprocate that flirtation is dreadful. You go out on a date with this guy, then 20 minutes after he gets home he's givin a rose to some other chick. Dejected. Not to mention walking in on him gettin frisky with the girl you share a room with. Just no.

The Attention. You are basically signing up for all of America to watch you get your heart broken by some Ken doll look alike. Call me crazy, but I can't think of something I would like less. And disclaimer: I am not a cute crier. America does not need to see that.

So to all those wondering minds: you will NEVER see me getting out of that limo hoping for a rose and a husband. Sorry if that was something you were really holding your breath for.

WHAT'S A LITTLE WHITE LIE

Lying. It's something we all do but refuse to admit it.

There's the "it's easier if you don't know the truth" lie ("No, that really looks good on you"), the "I don't want to talk" lie ("I'm fine."), the "get out of stuff lie" ("Something came up").



But my favorite is the "oh shit, I'm in trouble" lie. These are the most interesting because once you start, you just can't stop. It's like quick sand; you just keep getting deeper and deeper until you can't climb your way out. Even when you know you're busted, you just can't seem to stop. LORDY THE WORD VOMIT.

My hall of fame-r in this category was from my fourth grade self. Little background for you, science and I hate each other. Probably closer to despise. Loathe. You get the picture. Even in my tot years, I didn't get it. We were on the dinosaur chapter and I was just lost. I mean, think about it. How is a 9 year old supposed to wrap her head around the idea of an enormous creature that just doesn't exist anymore? No explanation, the beasts just vanished. Riddle me that.

Anyways. At the end of the chapter, we had a test. And it was haaaaard. I remember nervously rearranging all 2,800 lip glosses that were lined up inside of my desk (a girl's gotta have options) as I waited for Mrs. Gallo to waddle her way over to me to hand back my test. Talk about a mental image. When she finally plopped it down in front of me, I slowly turned it over to peak. On the top of it was a big, fat, red F. As the tears started forming in my sweet little eyeballs, I started to think about how I was going to explain this to my mom. And I came up with the perfect idea. I would turn the F into an E. E comes before F, so obviously it's not as bad. I mean, it's bad. But it's not F bad. So I took out my red pen and sneakily added that extra line at the bottom to magically transform that horrible letter. Our teacher made all us bring of our tests back the next day signed by a parent. What would I do when Mrs. Gallo noticed a different grade on the top of my paper? I hadn't quite figured that out yet. But I'd cross that bridge when I got to it.

Later that night as my mom was sitting on the couch, I came up to her with my test in my shaky hands. Before I even handed it to her, I lost it. I was balling. I started to explain to her how hard the test was and that I just didn't understand what was going on. And then I hit her with the bomb: "I got an E." She started laughing hysterically and asked me to repeat what I just said. Between sobs, I managed to say "E". She also managed to get out, in between laughs, "Honey, I don't think they have E's". "BUT MRS. GALLO DOES", I rebuttled.

Now I don't remember what happened next. I guess I probably should have followed up with momma before writing this. But it's funny, we all still think we can get away with the lies we tell. No matter how bad or how poorly planned. I just remember how confident I was that this would work: I could totally pull this one over on her. What a funny, weird little knobby kneed girl I was. A dinosaur-hating girl, at that.