bad habits.

You know what's impossible?

(And yes, I know, I shouldn't say things are impossible, because then I'll never achieve them, blah, blah, blah.)

But anyway.

Breaking habits is damn near impossible, if you ask me.

Take, for instance, my habit of biting my nails. I started back in second grade for no apparent reason. Well, okay, there was a reason - I was at a sleep over and we were about to watch Are You Afraid of the Dark? which I wasn't allowed to watch at home. Lame, I know. But still, I don't really know what caused me to think that chewing my nails down would make me feel better.

Now it's fifteen-ish years later, and I'm still doing it. I've tried a million ways to stop. My third grade teacher bribed me and a couple of my classmates, promising extra points in whatever prize scheme she had for the class (none of us stopped, by the by). My aunt promised me a manicure and lunch date, her treat, if I stopped. I had braces for two and half years. Everyone told me that once I got them on, I would have to give up because it would be physically impossible. Leave it to me to figure out a way to do it anyway. Now, the latest ploy is The Boy, who keeps semi-threatening-in-a-joking-way that if we make it far in this relationship, I won't get a ring if my nails are chewed down.

The frustrating part is, I don't think I actually bite my nails in nerve-wracking situations anymore. Now I usually find myself absentmindedly nibbling while I'm on the computer or doing some other tedious task. And it's not just my nails, either - I bite the skin where the corners of my nails are (sorry if that's gross, because to me it's not, so I really don't know). It's become less of a nervous habit and more of a compulsive one. I find that I want the nails to be bitten as far as I can bite them, along with the sides, even if they bleed and hurt. It makes no sense and I honestly should just stop, but it's so unbelieveably difficult.

I have no idea how to break this habit. I've stopped temporarily, but I reach a point where they become really tempting once they get a little longer. If anyone has successfully stopped after a long, long stint, advice is greatly appreciated.

Got any bad habits? Ever broken any of them?

free ice cream is my favorite.

So if you belong to 20sb (which, if you're not, you totally should if you are a 20-something and you blog), you know that there was a Blog Carnival a while back that resulted in participants receiving coupons to try Ben & Jerry's newest creation, Flipped Out, for free. Yes. For free.

The carnival was a couple of months ago and ever since I received the coupon, it's just been sitting around waiting eagerly to be used up. Then the loverly (which is totally a word, spell check, because there's a song dedicated to loverly things, so, existence proven) Kerri posted this review of her Flipped Out experience, and since The Boy was scheduled for a visit, I decided it was time for free ice cream.

When I first brought them home, I thought, hm, these are mighty tiny. Which was silly, because I'm not someone who eats large portions anyway, especially of ice cream. The instructions were pretty simple and although the perfectionist in me was a bit dismayed that the chocolate shell had broken slightly, I was easily distracted by the OOZING CHOCOLATE GOODNESS.

And oh my goodness, it was delicious. I basically ate off the chocolate shell, then dug away at the ice cream, getting chocolate syrup, ice cream, and cookie bites in every spoonful. The only thing I was unhappy with was the consistency of the ice cream, which seemed a bit dry and was hard to slice through, considering we ate it straight out of the freezer. But that's less a real complaint and more just us being greedy and hungry and too impatient to wait. It softened up as we kept eating.

(My break at the midway-ish point. See? I told you, I can only eat so much at a time.)

Overall, I really liked it. It's perfect for me, since I like small servings of ice cream, and I loved having chocolate sauce and extra cookie pieces. I definitely want to check out the Vanilla Fudge Brownie next time.

And actually, now I'm kinda wishing I hadn't shared with The Boy. That way I'd have another one to eat tonight. Boo.

why i feel like a grandma sometimes.

Sometimes I really and truly believe I am an old lady already.

Want proof?

I do puzzle books.

[source]

You know, like you find in drugstores. My favorites are fill in puzzles, but I'm also a fan of word searches. I could sit for hours and just do puzzles, not content until I can write "done" at the top of the page. And they're not really challenging, either. No crosswords for me. (They're too hard! Seriously. They make me feel dumb.) I prefer these because they're basically time-wasters. I blame my mother; she does them all the time, usually in doctor's offices when she's waiting.

I love golden oldies and light rock.

[source]

Not just any light rock, but usually older stuff. Again, I blame my parents because it's the music they like to listen to, so I grew up with it. I guess, in a sense, it comforts me because it's familiar. Still, when I go down to my aunt's shorehouse, she plays the New Jersey station, which is all feel-good light rock from the 80s. And I LOVE it. Whereas my cousin, who's eighteen, is busy trying to drown it out with her current music (of which I'm also a fan).

I do needlepoint.

[source]

Now, I know that knitting and craftiness have become popular amongst our age group recently, but I don't think needlepoint/cross-stitch caught on so much (correct me if I'm wrong - I would love to know someone else does this). This one I blame on my dad. His sister has done it forever, then he picked up the habit and now I'm stuck. And I've been stuck for like, years now. I have about four projects sitting around in my room, nevermind the two projects I finished as gifts for my second cousins, who both had babies a couple years back.

Of course, there are just as many things I do that make me think I'm way younger than twenty-two. But that's a whole separate entry.

What do you do that makes you feel like you're older (or younger) than you really are?

love list.

I got this idea from Jenn over at Free and Flawed, and I'm stealing borrowing it because it's a great mood lifter.

Unexpected snail mail. High heels. Mascara. The beginning of a new season. Pink-colored electronics. Dress shopping. Coupon clipping. Blue skies. Gummy vitamins. Cardigans. Football season. Feather boas. Video messages. Pumpkin spice lattes. Kittens. Clearance shopping. Glitter.

[source]

Soft serve vanilla ice cream. Apple cinnamon waffles. Word searches. Jigsaw puzzles. Sidewalk chalk. Postcards. Ballet flats. Forever 21. Candles. Suncatchers. Headbands. Video games. Sharpie markers. Picture frames. Magazines. Wine. Needlepoint. Knee socks. Sub sandwiches. Hot showers. Ballerinas. Dancing.




[Yes, this is me. This was us at our peak, before we all graduated, in 2005. It's our finale number and I can't even explain all the memories I have from practicing this. I love it so, so much and I really miss it.

If you're looking for me, I'm wearing pink shorts and am in it from the start. I'm the tall pasty white girl with the light brown hair - not exactly hard to spot.]

september 11th.

I tell this story every year, and every year it changes. I remember some things, forget others, or feel more strongly about certain parts. But every year I put it out there so that it’s there and not completely forgotten. I put it out there because it’s a part of me, a battered-but-strengthened part of me that I am glad to have, but certainly not under the circumstances that caused it to come about.

Although I posted this story last year, I felt compelled to share it again. I know some of you have already read it, but I would like to repost it because I feel like I've gained a bit more readership since last year and it's an important part of who I am. I've also edited it since last year after hearing my mother recollect the story and realizing some of my facts were wrong.

It's true what everyone says about our generation - we experienced this tragedy during the most crucial part of our development. We were forced to grow up, and fast. Although I attribute a lot of my growth to having to adapt to a new school with new friends, I'm positive that this had a large effect on how I grew.

Now it's been eight years. I've graduated both high school and college since then. It feels so distant when I remember the events of my day, and yet when I watch the documentaries and broadcasts of the news, it feels so close. Too close, almost.

*

September eleventh, two thousand and one.

I was fourteen. I'm just realizing how young I really was then. I had just started high school, a new school for me - private, all girls. I knew all of two people. It was the second day of school, the first real day of classes.

The sky was so blue, a perfect day. The blue sky always bothers me because it's taunting; even when the dark cloud rolls over the city, the backdrop is the crisp and bright blue sky.

The vice principal came over the loudspeaker. "If your parents work in New York City, please report to the drama studio." The second day in a new school - I barely knew where the drama studio was. About five girls got up from my Algebra I class. One I had talked to once or twice so far; some other girls I just knew by name. We made our way there, to the drama studio which was never actually used for any drama classes, only for small assemblies.

They told us there had been a terrible accident as they handed out note cards and asked for our information. A terrible accident... did the subway crash? Maybe a really big tanker truck. "A plane hit one of the two World Trade Center towers." My heart stopped.

Driving into Bayonne to visit grandparents, cousins. Every year. "Hey dad, which building do you work in again?" I say, pointing at the Twin Towers. "The one with the antenna on it," he replies.

Something so simple became so important in that moment. Had I not asked, not been told all my life, I would have no idea. I knew very little about what job my dad held and what he did, but I always knew he worked in the Towers, the one with the antenna.

I felt numb. Not really scared, not nervous, not upset. There were no tears. I raised my hand as they asked who had family members who were actually in the Towers. I walked to the back of the room with about ten other girls. I remember praying in a circle with strangers. I remember being brought to the office. They told me I could call home.

"Mom?" Jesus, what do I even say? "Um.. did you hear about what happened?" Of course she knew. She asked if I wanted to come home. I stared up at my vice principal, not sure if I was allowed. Again, of course I was allowed. "Um, I don't know if they'll let me." She asked me to put the vice principal on the phone; I would be picked up in a little while.

We'd switched periods; we were in study now. I walked in and sat by the only girl I knew. She asked if I was okay, expecting me to be much worse off. I assume the other girls whose parents worked in New York had returned to class, noting that I hadn't and explaining why. I said I was fine and asked to copy her algebra notes; she seemed stunned at my non-reaction.

The teacher went on and on about another plane hitting the other Tower, a third hitting the Pentagon. I didn't believe her, not because I was in denial, but because the way she was discussing it made it sound more like fanatic rumors than reality. If only they'd been rumors.

We moved to history class, where I stayed for five minutes before I was called out and taken home. My brother was already in the car. My mother said something about staying calm and not worrying, and how she had already reassured my brother that everything was going to be okay.

(I should note that the timing of the day as opposed to when events were actually happening is skewed in my mind. The assembly we had occurred after both towers had been hit, and one of the towers fell as we were driving home.)

Random moments are vivid, like when I took in the garbage cans when we got home and my neighbor rushed across the street and hugged me, asking me if everything was okay. Or when I watched footage of one of the Towers collapse on my television and immediately decided I wouldn't watch the news anymore; I turned on cartoons and read a magazine.

Then there was my uncle's message on our answering machine. He'd called while my mom was picking us up. He updated us on his whereabouts, since he and his ex-wife (my mom's sister) worked at the Towers too; he was going in late that day, my aunt was working at the airport. My uncle was a talker, never at a loss for words. That day, though, after filling us in, there was a long silence before he uttered a profanity. An exasperated statement, one of disbelief and not knowing what else to say.

I remained numb the entire day, clinging to the fact that the first Tower to collapse was the one without the antenna. Not only had I been told this my whole life, but I had just visited the World Trade Center to see my dad and go to The Top of the World observatory, at the very top of the second Tower.

We finally got a phone call - he tells us he’s okay. He’s okay. He doesn’t know when he’ll be home, since transportation is kind of impossible. I once again remained emotionless; I wasn't distraught, so there was no relief. Whether it was denial, optimism, or just a feeling that he'd be okay, I'll never really know.

As my mom was on the phone, my aunt showed up, my dad’s youngest sister. She had been in a tizzy, calling earlier in the day and claiming that she’d go down to the city to find him if she had to. All I could think about was being disappointed that she didn’t bring my cousins with her so that we could all play and distract ourselves.

Soon after my aunt left, my grandparents arrived on their way back from Atlantic City. They didn’t stay long, as they weren't sure if roads would be closed and they already knew that he’s okay.

In the late afternoon - pretty early, all things considered - my dad arrived home. Finally. We rushed outside to greet him. I hated it because it felt surreal and movie-like, too cheesy to actually be happening in real life. We're not a close family to begin with, so all of us meeting him on the front lawn in a group hug seemed so... weird. He came inside and sat down, his shoes carrying dust from the buildings, dust from the huge cloud that encompassed the streets. We crowded around and listened to his story; I don’t remember much of it.

He told us how nobody realized how serious it was, that leaving the office immediately wasn't everyone's instinctive course of action. He, however, had been through this before with the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center and knew to grab his things and get out. They took forever to walk down the stairs, where injured people were being carried down and firefighters were dashing up. He was about ten stories up when the first tower fell, though they didn't know that's what it was at the time. When they finally made their way out, they were ushered by people who told them not to look up or back, but just to run.

Once far enough away, my dad and his colleagues looked back and, when they couldn't see the other building, assumed it was just covered by the smoke before realizing it had fallen. He was finally able to call when they ducked into a deli that one of his colleagues had frequented in college. And then he had a beer.

I obsessively watched the news that night, allowing myself to see all the images I blocked out all day. Comforting myself with the fact that school would likely be canceled in the morning, I fell asleep. I woke up in tears the next morning, a panic attack of sorts. I had thought for sure that we wouldn't have school. I was scared. I woke up early just to watch the news, knowing they'd say that all schools were closed until further notice. I mean, we'd just been attacked, right? How could we have school?

My mother forced me to go. I don't know how I got through the day. People in my class who'd come with me to the drama studio, who'd known my dad was in that Tower, asked me if I was okay. I told them yes, and they smiled. It was heartwarming to have such support from people who were practically strangers.

*

All I ever ask on this day is that you always remember and never forget. As each year passes, I find more and more people caring less and less, even on the anniversary. I've had a college that held no large-scale service one year and friends who didn't stop for one moment to acknowledge the service the following year. I feel that as a country, we would be much stronger if we thought back to that day more often, not only to remember those who passed but to remember how tight-knit we became.

labor day weekend.

My new favorite event to go to on Labor Day Weekend is the block party held at my aunt’s shorehouse. I attended last year and had a blast, so I knew I had to do it again this year and managed to convince The Boy to come with me. The theme was armed forces, and earlier this summer my aunt had already come up with a great idea: the girls would dress as army nurses while the guys sported fake wounds with food-dye-colored “bloodied” bandages. Since The Boy was a last-minute addition, he came up with the idea of being – what else – the head doctor in charge of the nurses.

The weekend started off on Friday night when I decided to split up the two-hour trip to the shore and head to The Boy’s house to sleep over. We were up bright and early the next morning at nine, mainly to be awake before his sister arrived with her three roommates and found us half asleep. Our first task was to bake brownies, which we did promptly. Once the girls arrived, we hid out in his room to pick out his “costume” while they all had lunch and rushed out to the beach.

Before we left, I put my finishing touches on the brownies to fit the theme a little better:



Then we were on our way. We didn’t hit much traffic this time around and got there about a half hour before the party officially began. Since my costume was being supplied mostly by my aunt, we freshened up at the house and I got dressed up.


Hellooooo, nurse!

I was surprised to find out that Lynds had decided to come home from college for the long weekend. Her best friend was over for the better part of the day, so I never really got a chance to talk to her.

We made our way down the end of the block where the festivities were centered. Within minutes, the color guard made a special appearance to kick off the party officially.



Then food was served, and as my aunt was one of the people in charge, I fell in line as her helper. Of course, I took time to catch up with my cousin and his girlfriend, say hi to the neighbors, and enjoy the wonderful spread of barbecue food.


My uncle and aunt.


My cousin and his girlfriend.


The Boy and I.

A few games were arranged, the most popular by far being the water balloon toss. Although The Boy and I were out after the second or third toss, my cousin and his girlfriend made it all the way to second place (after the water balloon popped right in the middle of her skirt, making it look like she had peed herself).


That's my cousin the foreground, his girlfriend in the back. Sadly, this is a shot of the losing toss.

As the sun was setting, it was time to put out dessert, and I dutifully helped carrying tray after tray of cupcakes and brownies to the table. My favorite were these adorable cupcakes, which are definitely something I would have come up with:


So cute! My only complaint was that the "beach ball" was a gumball. Ew!

We retreated to the house after this, seeing as the swarms of gnats that were bothering us all afternoon had become increasingly worse. We sat on the back patio and talked about silly wedding mishaps and stories on my dad’s side of the family. After about an hour, we decided to make our return after thoroughly covering ourselves in bug spray.

It was, of course, my favorite part of the day, because now that the sun was down and everyone was thoroughly tipsy, the DJ began playing the fun, danceable music. It didn’t take long for all of us to hit the makeshift dance floor, especially me and Lynds.


All the nurses, getting low, including my aunt!


As you can see here, we're the only two dancing. I have no problem with this whatsoever.


Dancing to Pussycat Dolls, doing the same move for the same part in the song.

By the end of the night, I was sweaty and exhausted. My very patient and wonderful boyfriend was getting antsy as well, seeing as all he was doing was standing on the sidelines and taking pictures (at my request). I changed into pajamas, we said our goodbyes, and were on our way.

Being the weirdo I am, as soon as we arrived back at his place, I was starving. I don’t eat too much in social situations, because I have mild anxiety and am never really hungry, so I’m always ready to chow down as soon as I leave a party. At eleven at night, I was sitting down to a full meal of grilled chicken, pasta, and steamed corn on the cob, followed up by green tea ice cream and leftover Rita’s water ice. Basically, anyone in real life who doesn’t think I eat enough really needs to see me late at night, when I will snack on anything and everything.

The rest of the weekend was calm, but I was glad to get out just for the one day. I love big parties and the sense of community I feel when I’m at my aunt’s shorehouse. It’s definitely a party I’m going to look forward to for years and years to come.

only me.

Only I can...

• be the one sober person dancing like a fool with a bunch of tipsy people.
• get low in a mini skirt.
• look drunk in candid pictures when I most definitely am not.
• forget I'm dressed like a nurse and therefore act really confused when people fake an injury and ask for help.
  
• find a boyfriend who doesn't like to dance when I love it (but I love him anyway).
• not feel hungry all day, then come home to The Boy's house and have pasta, chicken, corn on the cob, ice cream, Rita's water ice, marshmallows, and crackers with cheese in the span of an hour and a half.
• turn on the air conditioning, get too cold, but put on a sweatshirt instead of turning the air off.

I love the Labor Day Weekend block party in Mystic Island. Love, love, love.

my fall tv lineup.

One thing I failed to mention in my previous post about exciting things about autumn is the advent of Fall Television. And this year, it's shaping up to be a really good season.

Turns out, I'm not the only one talking about fall TV, so I want to share with you the shows I'll be watching.

On Monday, I have only one show to watch, and that's Dancing with the Stars.

It's on ABC at 8/7c and premieres on September 21st, with performance shows on Monday and results shows on Tuesday at 9/8c (but I don't really care for the results, it's usually a bunch of wasted time). Even though SYTYCD is my first dance show love, I also really like this show. Mainly I like seeing all the different celebrities and how good they are, but recently they've been recruiting SYTYCD alumni to be the professionals (like Lacey Schwimmer, Chelsie Hightower, and Dmitry Chaplin).

Tuesday is the only day I forsee a conflict in my schedule. Hands down I will almost always be watching So You Think You Can Dance, my favorite show ever.

It premieres in just one week, at 8/7c on September 9th on Fox. For a few weeks, it's just once-a-week audition episodes. Then it will be on regularly, with performance shows on Tuesdays and results on Wednesdays. I won't go into the show too much, since I did that here a few weeks ago.

The conflict I have is that NCIS is also on at 8/7c on CBS, a show that I have come to love based on my mom watching reruns constantly. Hopefully I'll be able to catch episodes online somewhere, because I'm dying to see if Tony and Ziva ever hook up - or McGee and Abby, for that matter, because even though it seems pretty unlikely, I WANT IT TO HAPPEN.

Moving on to Wednesday, I'll be watching the results shows for SYTYCD for sure. Right after that, on Fox as well, is my new favorite show (which I just watched the pilot for today!), Glee.

I'm so very excited for this. If there were a glee club or show choir at my school, I would've so been there. I was on drill team, which was a dance team that was decidedly separate from the cheerleaders, despite having to wear the same uniforms (we were much better, too, and I'm not just saying that - we got more screams from the audience at the pep rally than them). Anyway. I'm sure you already know that it's on at 9/8c and that it premieres September 9th. Yay!

Following Glee, I'll probably keep checking out Top Chef, if I remember. What can I say? I'm a reality show addict, especially to all the shows Bravo puts out.

Thursday will be another busy TV-watching night for me, starting with my newest addiction, Bones.

Since I'm all about hoping for romantic relationships between characters, I am desperately waiting to see what happens between Miss Temperance "Bones" Brennan and Agent Booth. ESPECIALLY after the events of the season finale, which was a crazy trip. Seriously. I won't spoil it, but at the very end there was an admission of sorts by one of the two about their true feelings. Eeep! I'm just itching with excitement over here. If you want in, it's on Fox at 8/7c and will premiere on September 17th.

After that, I'll indulge in some comedy shows over at NBC. First up is The Office, which never fails to be amusing on some level. But what I'm looking forward to even more is Community.

All I needed to hear were the names Joel McHale and Chevy Chase, and I was in. This looks like it will be a great follow-up show to watch after The Office. It's on at 9:30/8:30c and will also premiere on September 17th.

And of course, I'll be following all this up with a nice helping of Project Runway, which is totally amazing and if you're not watching it, you should be. Or we can't be friends. It's on Lifetime at 10/9c.

After that, I don't have anything to watch until Sunday rolls around. I'm a huge, HUGE Family Guy fan, so I'm definitely excited for new episodes. But I'm also eager to check out the new spin off, The Cleveland Show.

Seth MacFarlane is a genius (also, on a side note, I find him oddly attractive too) and I'm hoping he delivers with this new show. If you're into silly comedy like me, check it out at 8:30/7:30c, followed by Family Guy, both of which premiere on September 27th.

I'll also be watching Design Star for the next few weeks, but that's already almost over!

Phew! See, I told you, total television addict.

What are you watching this fall? What new shows are you looking forward to?

happy september!

I am so stoked for autumn this year, even though I don't really have any idea why. I sat down to write why I love autumn and basically everything I came up with I already mentioned last year. Interesting. Seriously, I was going to start this post in the same way, with my schpeal about how I never identify autumn as my favorite season despite basically loving it.

So why do I secretly love fall, despite being a spring-and-summer fan at heart?

Well, there's the cool weather. By the time September rolls around, I'm glad to be done with the frustrating heat and humidity. I love opening all the windows in the house and hearing the leaves rustle in the wind.

Hand in hand with that is the leaves changing colors and falling. It's so lovely. First, all the leaves turn wonderful colors and look so pretty against a crisp blue sky. It's so refreshing, especially if I happen to drive down a highway during this time, because then it's different colors as far as the eye can see. Then, the leaves start falling, and while it is a tad depressing to see naked trees, the sound and smell of fallen leaves is amazing. Whether it's listening to them blow down the street or hearing people step on them as they walk by, I love the crunching sound. And the smell? I can't get enough of it. It's especially strong after it rains, even though the sight of wet leaves is less than pleasant. Unfortunately there's a limited time span in which fallen leaves are appealing, because after about two weeks of them blowing all over the place and taking over front lawns, they get to be quite annoying.

One of things I am always most excited for are all the autumn-related flavors. Particularly pumpkin. And I get my pumpkin fix with none other than the Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks.

[picture from Starbucks]

Oh, it's divine. It's rich and creamy and warm and comforting and just wonderful. I'm so torn, though, because on my new diet, I'm supposed to avoid most things with dairy and coffee. Although, it's not like I ever over-indulged. In past years, I only got two or three throughout the season. That should be just fine, I suppose. But another discovery I made last year was Pumpkin Spice Hershey's Kisses. If you've never had them, go find some. Seriously. I made my discovery at Target, so maybe you should start there. They are really good. Trust me.

Even though it's not officially fall yet, the beginning of September seems to make me expect that autumn is just around the bend. Here's hoping it shows up soon.