My first celebrity sighting

Did I ever tell you guys about the time I waved to Jeremy Renner?

He waved back. It was your average pregame in Boston, when a friend recommended we try the Liberty Hotel’s downstairs bar. The idea of going to a hotel wasn’t all that enthusing, but I agreed. After all, I’m essentially a glorified Boston tourist who’s traveled the city the last 7 years without ever knowing where I am.

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8 things I’m genuinely tired of

1. Traffic snaps

One of the world’s greatest phenomenas is not traffic. I feel comfortable guaranteeing every person who opened that snap has sat in traffic. There’s zero part of me that wants those tail lights. Unless you’re my “hit some traffic” boyfriend, then it’s mandatory.
Eye roll

2. Leg day

I too have dedicated a day to my legs and butt. I couldn’t sit on a toilet without wincing. I couldn’t walk up stairs without waddling. Maybe it’s because my world doesn’t revolve around a squat rack, but I’ve never felt the need to let you guys know yesterday was my leg day.

3. Travel junkies

Traveling is badass. I’ve learned in other countries, partied in other cities, explored other oceans and loved every minute. One thing I didn’t do was fall into that singleminded, narrow hallway of “travel is everything.” The conversations I’ve had drive me to judge. Never let anyone make you feel bad for pursuing a career. Don’t feel regretful about falling in love. About having a baby. Taking care of a loved one. Being a townie. Do you.

Let me listen

4. Moody Mondays

We all have Mondays. Whether it actually falls on Monday or on the weekend or mid-week, everyone has a day they get back to reality. I’m not happy about it either, but there’s literally nothing we can do but change our attitude.

5. Models aren’t real people

But they are. Gigi Hadid is a piece of art. My photoshop skills aren’t as impressive as my resume says, so I’d do worse to Gigi than good and she’d still look flawless. I understand girls shouldn’t realistically look up to someone like her, but there’s little reason grown women and men can’t respect a human beings’ beauty, like hers. In real terms, they were created just like you and me, man and woman, sex. I respect Arie’s Real Women campaign so hard, but same can said be about the Angels. I don’t fully understand the purpose of normalizing or berating a super model. I don’t look at Alessandra Ambrosio and think WHY WAS I CURSED WITHOUT YOUR LEGS? I think, damn Alessandra you slay. Respect beauty. Recognize photoshop. Move on. My opinion. Sorry if I offended you. I think you saying Gigi is fake is offensive.


6. Complaining about complaining

Pardon my hypercriticism.

 7. Holiday retail rants

I’m not for a second going to compare retail workers to others who share the unfortunate need to work holidays. I will share my personal experience. When I was offered to serve food to the elderly at the local retirement home, I was pre-warned that holidays were mandatory. For 7 years of my life I worked Christmas or Thanksgiving or Easter or New Years or Independence  Day or etc. Of course it sucked waking up at 6:30AM on Christmas morning, but I signed the paperwork. I could have quit at any point in time and got a job without such requirements, but I chose not to. If you genuinely disagree with unnecessary holiday employees then boycott the store. That’s my best advice. I’ve been boycotting Jamn 945 and iHeart Radio since they let go of Santi and Ramiro – feels great. So yes, hit up Tina’s Toys instead of Target this year. Local holiday shopping will do wonders for our economy. Your Facebook rant? Nah.


 8. Drake haters

Take a backseat mini-Meeks. Drake is flawless.


Did I ever tell you about my dog Marley?


It was December of 2002 when our house phone rang sometime before dinner. I answered and listened as a woman on the other end asked to speak to a parent about a puppy. With Christmas around the corner, I knew what was up. 12-year-old me crept down the stairs Christmas morning expecting to see a puppy perched in a basket. Instead, a VHS rested on the side panel of our living room. It was the last gift to be opened. I sat on my knees inches from the TV and watched as the opening scene showed our Christmas tree with the typical sans serif white camcorder font reading “Merry Christmas Kids.” Next was Marley.

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Did I ever tell you about breakfast in New Orleans?


For starters, I’m going to make up points in time because I can’t remember anything. IT WAS DAY 3 of our visit to New Orleans when we woke up hungover and hungry. Armed with a smartphone and flip flops we began our journey for breakfast. I was dressed in a kid’s Rajon Rondo t shirt and yoga pants, repping Boston the worst way I unintentionally knew how. With help from Google Maps we made our way to the highly recommended and rated Mother’s.

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Would you like to guess how many times “disconnect from social media” topped my New Year’s resolutions?

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I’m a goal maker, a list writer, a journal keeper, a firm believer in emotional dumps on paper. Every major event to unbearable situation has been documented. Scribbled within these lists are goals for me to strive for. Some former goals being: get fit, become a morning person, budget your money, turn off the TV, resist talking about your boyfriend constantly … all simple and catered to making me feel better about myself. These aren’t 01/01/new year goals. They’re reevaluated every month and thought about every day. Some get a check mark while others come full circle year after year. A veteran full circle is the disconnect from social media.

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Post college, pre anything

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Life is painfully strange once college is behind you. Suddenly your paths of opportunity, both mowed and weeded, morph into a complex jungle of uncertainty. Your once clean cut path has become an endless maze of opportunity. You can travel, you can settle into a career, you can consider marriage, you can bum around, you can move out, you can adopt a cat, you can pick up a hobby, you can go back to school, you can open a business, you can run for congress, but which is the right option for you? You’re entitled to try everything you’re offered, very well knowing or unknowing of failure or success.

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