tell me this isn't weird.

I am absolutely out of my mind.

Why?

I just pulled an all-nighter.

See, this is my "method" of getting on a regular sleeping schedule. I'm embarrassed to admit how late I've been sleeping (it's only been really bad the past two days), but it's fairly late. So, if I stay up all night, I am absolutely exhausted the following night. My head usually hits the pillow around seven, and that's even stretching it. This ensures that, even if I sleep for ridiculous amounts of time (I'm talkin' 12+ hours here), that leaves me at seven, eight, or nine in the morning. Perfect!

...

Isn't that the craziest thing you've ever heard of?! Yeah. We're weird, and I say "we" because my brother does this too. But it works! It's a kind of last resort, but it does work.

I do have trouble spots, however, like ... right about now. I think it's because my body's finally realizing, hey wait a minute, you didn't sleep! I get really punch-drunk too and annoy the crap out of my parents. It also gets really, really hard not to succumb to a mid-afternoon nap, because that turns into flat-out SLEEPING. Basically, the idea is to keep myself occupied throughout the day and not letting myself crash until at least seven. Maaaybe six, if I'm having a rough time of it.

So that's my crazy confession for the day. But now I want you to tell me...

Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? And why?

Maybe I'll be surprised and find out someone else does this. But I seriously doubt that. Oh, and for the record, I have pulled all-nighters for traditional things, like girl talk and writing papers due the next day.

grace in small things, 17/365.

I've neglected GiST for far too long, so I'm bringing it back with a twist (at least for this post). I usually make a little list, but this time I feel a full entry coming on.

This past weekend, I ventured out for the first time in a while. I was due to visit The Boy, and since his house is halfway between my house and my aunt's shorehouse, I figured the two of us would drive down and visit. Aside from the ridiculous amount of traffic, I'm glad we made the decision, especially considering there was a farewell party for my cousin and another neighbor, who are both going off to college soon.

The ride to The Boy's house and the subsequent drive to the shorehouse were nearly unbearable. While the combined time for both trips should've been just about two hours, instead it was nearly three and a half. Of course, it's mostly my fault for planning to make these trips on a Saturday. In the middle of the day. On the first sunny and warm weekend of the summer. In New Jersey.

If you're from North Jersey or travel the GSP to get to the shore, you can probably guess what bridge this is.

I was instantly at peace with my decision when I stepped in the house. As usual, I was offered a lovely alcoholic drink (which I passed on, since my tummy had been icky all day) and a comfy seat amongst family and friends. We talked, laughed, and traded playful banter about things like stupidly using your finger to test the heat of baked penne vodka, my aunt's hot flashes, and sneaking bread before the food was put out.

My cousin, at the ready to light the sternos at a moment's notice.

As we waited for dinner to be served, the guests continued to show up, sharing stories, hugs, and smiles. I love the people who live on the block by the shore house. They're so bubbly and welcoming, and remember me even if I only visit once or twice every summer. At one point, the random mix of old and new songs being generated by the random "party mix" TV music channel came to a meeting point when Only the Good Die Young started playing. My 18-year-old cousin, whom the party was for, came running inside with her friend and started belting out lyrics, along with me, our cousin's 27-year-old girlfriend, and a few of the parents. It was one of those moments that doesn't make for a great story, but at the time it just feels so good for your soul.

Sunset.

The best part was after we'd all eaten, when most of the party guests had drinks in their bellies and the sun had just finished setting, and the dancing commenced. My aunt recently had an addition put on the house - a gorgeous back patio with screen windows to keep the cool breeze coming in but the nasty greenheads and mosquitoes out. With the outdoor speakers blasting Just Dance, the twist, and everything in between, we all hit the makeshift dance floor. The older guests danced in a tipsy stupor, while the teenagers let loose as best friends enjoying themselves together one last time before my cousin left for college. We did the Hokey Pokey and the limbo, laughing and dancing and sweating.

My youngest cousin, giving the girls a run for their money.

She has no shame, although she did try to tuck her dress under before she went for it.

Those are the moments I live for. While we were spinning in circles during the bridge in the chicken dance, belting the lyrics to a favorite song, and laughing at made-up dance moves, everything else fell away into the background. All my worries, concerns, doubts, shortcomings, and feelings of sickness were gone, and I was happy.

I was letting go and laughing loudly, something I need to find a way to do way, way more often.

20sb vlog day!

It's 20sb Vlog Day! Yesss. I'm really excited, and you should be to.

Never heard of 20sb? Well that's sad. Go here! ASAP! And check out more vlogs here.

Before I post my vlog, I want to share my harrowing tale of recording this thing. I decided at 4:30am that I was going to record a video, and I did, and it was great. But I used my digital camera (because sometimes my webcam is spazzy), so Youtube and Vimeo didn't want to upload it. So I went to bed, frustrated.

But! I'm convinced this one is just as good, although I look a lot more tired here. Also, I lucked out and my webcam decided to behave. Yay!

Anyway, here we go.

Please pardon the following:
- my inability to look at the camera for more than like, 5 seconds at a time
- the constant hair touching and adjusting
- excessive use of the word "ummm"
- the fact that the video goes over the requested 2-minute limit... oops.



And yes, I did in fact quote Anchorman at the end, because it's the best movie ever. And because I'm kind of a big deal.

bits and bobbins.

There are a million things swirling around my head lately, and I can't seem to put them into coherent posts. So, you get a nice bullet-point list instead.

• I adore using my webcam and being able to connect with people. Of course my favorite part is being able to talk to The Boy every night on Skype, but leaving and receiving video messages on Facebook makes me smile.
  
  
• Etsy is my continuing addiction and I can't seem to stop. When I find something adorable, it just makes me giddy. I'm currently putting a care package together for my cousin, who's off to college on Thursday, and I've been looking around for cute magnets (the doors to their rooms are magnetic). Problem is, there are so many that I simply can't choose!
  
  
• I love it when an idea becomes reality, even in something as simple as making plans. The Boy suggested that we stop by my aunt's shorehouse this weekend, which I agreed was a good idea, but was a little hesitant about because I wasn't sure if they would be at the beach half the day. Turns out they'll actually be having my cousin's off-to-college party that day, so we can go down anytime and spend the day setting up and having a party.
  
  
• Remember that post about being a giver? It's so very true. I've spent a big chunk of my time these days posting on a Facebook group that's for incoming freshmen at my alma mater. Since I was already in college help-out mode for my cousin (who's going to the same school as I did), I figured I'd help out answering questions on the group as well. It gives me a great sense of satisfaction.
  
  
• This song is adorable and just makes me happy:
  
  

diets and shopping.

Restrictive diets can suck my non-existing male genitalia.

Since about Tuesday night or so, I've eliminated from my diet any foods that are unnecessarily fatty, anything with chocolate or caffeine, most things dairy, and most raw fruits and veggies. What does that leave? Carbs. Lots and lots of carbs. Bread and pasta and rice and tortilla chips and corn flakes and graham crackers. Needless to say, it's getting old.

All of this deprivation is turning me into a pouty, grouchy mess. I complain constantly about what I can't eat, because, well... I can't eat what I want! It's so frustrating. Will it help me in the end? Yes, and I know that feeling better should be motivation. But I have huge self-control problems, so I'm simply not handling this well.

In order to keep myself sane, I've been indulging myself with some online shopping. From Forever 21, I bought a new summer top, heart-seamed leggings, and an adorable flower headband:

Today I stopped by Target and picked up some adorable greeting cards that were only 99 cents! I adore greeting cards, and usually I splurge on Papyrus because they are really well-designed and are so "me." Of course, they're a bit expensive, so when I found these that were by Carlton Cards, I went a little crazy and bought six:

And as usual, I've been lusting over many, many things on Etsy. But! I did go ahead and purchase the following necklace for my favorite almost-four-year-old best friend, Bella, for her birthday on Sunday (the #5 pendant, since she's a Leo):

from vapor72's shop

I also ordered a few other adorable Etsy things, because I just can't help myself sometimes. Especially when I'm feeling bad for myself because I can't eat the ice cream in my freezer.

giving.

I am nice to the core.

I am nice to the point of detriment to myself, apparently. But that's not how I see it - to me, this is who I am, it's what I do.

There would be no Cait without writing pages of college advice for my cousin or baking brownies to give out at college for Christmas, taking extra time to decorate a few with blue sprinkles - instead of green and red - for my Jewish friends. It wouldn't be me if there weren't three weeks spent on making a scrapbook for a best friend who's moving away or packing that project into three nights for another best friend's sweet sixteen. I'm eager to help, to give, to make somebody smile.

I am criticized, at times, for never saying no. My parents say that I'm a carpet, allowing the world to walk all over me. Even when people frustrate me, I still help them. I usually forgive too easily, because I don't see the point in holding grudges and feeling rotten. My cousin and I are on weird footing right now because she's busy with all of her other friends, yet I still spend a good chunk of my time thinking up useful college tips and answering any questions that come my way. When she does call, I make every effort to see her. Nobody understands why - they think I'm living in a dream world, that I'm being used and, at times, abused. I'm not. Because her time is limited, I know that if I don't see her on her time, I don't see her at all. People would rather see me "stand up for myself" by refusing to hang with her when she finally has time, to ignore her until she notices things are going wrong. Seems rather immature to me.

What I have realized recently, however, is that being a nice person makes everyone else seem not-so-nice in comparison. Let it be known that I absolutely do not do things for the purpose of getting something in return. Never have, never will. But I can't help noticing that some subconscious part of mind does expect something. It's not a matter of tit-for-tat, where I give you a gift so you give me one back. It's more than that, something I can't really describe.

All I know is that, when I hit my lowest points, that desire in the back of my mind comes out in full force. I sit at home and let myself mull over everything that's going wrong, wondering where everyone seems to have gone. I know in my right mind that everyone's right here, within reach and easy to contact, but for some reason it's not that easy. I don't do well asking for help, especially in this instance because I don't exactly know what I even want to ask for.

By being a giver, I've never taught myself how to take, how to lean on someone, how to ask for what I need and want. I just expect someone to notice, to realize, to intuitively understand that hey, something's wrong. I can't bring myself to ask for help, because that's taking; however, if someone else just happens to notice that I need help, then they're giving.

That's how things make sense to me, but probably nobody else. Because I'm awesome that way.