Oh.

SO I've had this eye twitch thing going on for the past 2-3 weeks.

It's getting really not ok.

So I googled: "causes of eye twitch".

Here's what I discovered:

-stress

-tiredness

-eye strain

-nutritional imbalances

-caffeine

-alcohol

oh. yikes.

also, today, it rained on me and seemingly no one else.

i felt a little like eeyore, truth be told.

Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.

It's been a rough couple of weeks.

Y'all know what I'm talking about.

Things started.

Things ended.

Things got super fucked up.

There was a lot of laughter.

I almost had to take a canoe to work.

There were a lot of tears.

Stress pervaded life.

Things broke.

I ate an entire package of Trader Joe's cat cookies.

More things broke.

There were some more tears.

It rained like a mofo, literally and metaphorically.

Yup. It's been rough.

So last night, fed up with the trauma-drama-lama that was September, we thought, "hey, let's completely erase the past month from our memories".

I know what you're thinking, THIS IS NOT THE SOLUTION.

But trust me, it was.

Jell-o+copious amounts of gin+various other things+Kayalyn's unicorn costume = a damn good start at recovery.

When I woke up this morning, the sun was shining. The ridiculous heat had passed. A quick trip to get some home fries and electrolytes resulted in a three hour long walk along the waterfront.

It was the most beautiful day I have ever seen. I grabbed a sweater, put the new Sara B. album on my ipod, got a lemon raspberry cupcake and an iced tea from Baked & Wired (btw, pheNOM.com), and off I went.

As I sat on the waterfront, watching the boats and the people pass by, I was reminded of Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five where Billy's epitaph reads "EVERYTHING WAS BEAUTIFUL, AND NOTHING HURT.

I never really understood that; I mean, it sounded pretty, but what did it meannn?

Well, today I figured out the answer:

It will always rain.

When it does rain, there isn't a damn thing you can do about it.

The rain will stop, and the sun will come out.

Today, everything was beautiful, and all the misery and pain and bullshit of the past month was gone. The rain stopped. The sun beamed.

October started yesterday. It's a new month, a fresh start. It will inevitably rain again.

But days like today do happen.

So bring it world.

I'll always have Gordon's and a unicorn to magically send the rain away.

A tribute to the best home and one of the best friends I've ever had...

"I try to keep it simple, 'cause i hate goodbyes, and i try to keep it simple by telling myself that I, I Will remember you and all of the things that we've gone through.
There is so much I can say, but words get in the way, so when we're not together, I will remember you." -Ryan Cabrera

"Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light
And I will remember you" -Sarah McLauchlin

It seems silly to love a car so much that you give it a heartfelt tribute on your blog. Maybe it is silly. But Stevie is more than just a car. He's a feeling. He's freedom. He's an escape. He's salvation.

I've never felt happier than I do when I'm sitting behind the wheel of my car with open road before me. Though I know that in the end I'll turn around and go back to where I came from, the knowledge that if I choose I can drive to the end of the earth has kept me sane. It has kept me free. It has kept me whole. Knowing that I'll lose that feeling on Monday has taken my breath from me. I owe more to a piece of Japanese machinery than I could ever explain to you. So here's to you Stevie, the best friend I could ever ask for, the closest thing to home that I have right now. Tonight, we'll sit and drink together for the last time. Who knew that life would never be better than it was when we drove the open roads, with no end in sight?

"Behind us lay the whole of America and everything Dean and I had previously known about life, and life on the road. We have finally found the magic land at the end of the road, and we never dreamed the extent of the magic." -Kerouac

The fine line between self-control and self-abuse.

Once upon a time, there was an island. It was long. Blessed with the gift of originality, its founders named it "Long Island".

It was a silly place. The indigenous people there had obnoxious accents. You couldn't use your discover card. Caramel Macchiatos cost $5.25. The Wall Street Journal was nowhere to be found. Liquor stores stocked only liquor and wine, no beer. The beaches were chilly, the speed limits were low, and no one could ever park their car for fear of getting a parking ticket. There was no place to get a good pizza, and the people were rude. Life on the island was hard.

One day, a group of visitors snapped. They just couldn't take it any more. They went to the nearest liquor store, stabbed the owner with the keys to their Bentley, and stole a bottle gin, a bottle of rum, a bottle of tequila, and a bottle of vodka. Now armed with their friends Jose, Captain Morgan, Mr. Smirnoff, and Gordon, they were ready to face the world. Or so they thought.

After many shots and mixed drinks, they realized that they still were not yet able to handle life on the island. Brilliantly, they decided to mix all of the bottles together. It was a delicious and lethal combination.

They, also blessed with the gift originality, called it a "long island iced tea". It became a survival tool. And survive they did.

They lived happily ever after...until their livers failed.

As if we could progress.

Above is a keg.

This keg was purchased by my father for a bbq we hosted before leaving franklin.

Again, it's a keg.

Although filled with Sam Adams instead of Natty, it's the same thing you'd find at any frat party.

Proof that we never grow up.

But really, if this is what the future holds, I'm certainly not complaining.

Home is wherever I'm with you.

dearest friends,

this past weekend i went to lady gaga in franklin with bfff steph and christina. the music blared. the lights shined. my ass shook. life was good.

i then ventured on to martha's vineyard with marushka. the dogs barked. the toilet flushed. the wine flowed. and life was good.

the weekend ended in nyc in kayalyn's fab-u-lous apartment downtown with the lovely kayalyn kibbe, blaine edens, lizzie simonofsky, and becca grayzel. our feet dangled out the window. the american spirits blazed. the beer bottles clinked. our shopping bags buzzed. and life was good.

home is not about where you are. it's who you're with. and who you are when you're with who you're with.

so drink up, light up, and dance yo' ass off.

life is good. i promise.

Excuse Me Good Sir: The Story of Two Girls and a Car Named Stevie.

The year was 2008.

Speeding down the windy New England back roads, listening to Motion City Soundtrack blare on the stereo, Steph and I were doing as we always did when we suddenly saw smoke coming from behind a house. Without hesitation, she said as we drove by the house, "Excuse me good sir, I think your house is on fire".

And so it began.

"Excuse me, good sir."

This is the phrase that has endured for the past two years of our friendship.

So now, we drive down the street and say, "Excuse me good sir, you're ugly", or "Excuse me good sir, you just cut me off." It's our way of politely, but vocally, judging people. We pretty much say it for everything. It's our own personal catch phrase. Whether we're talking to a man or a woman doesn't matter. It's a universally applicable statement.

I thought of the beginning of that phrase as I waited for Steph to come over to keep me company on Wednesday night. I thought of how it caught on and became such an important element of our daily language. I guess everyone has something that they say with their friends. Over the past year, it's been adding .com to the end of a phrase, or loling all over the place. It's the John Foley call, or using an exaggerated Chicaaaaago aaaaccent. We all have things that we say that distinguish our relationships from one another.

I realized, as I sat here, that I haven't said "Excuse me, good sir" in a long time. It's probably because Steph and I haven't really driven around judging people very much in the past year. We won't be doing that very often anymore, either. But hey, when it's time to change, you've got to rearrange, right?

So, the lesson of today is as follows: you can lose your accent. You can stop using your colloquialisms (i.e. wicked). You can leave the place that you thought would always be home. But don't ever forget the things you used to say, the songs you used to sing, and the roads you used to drive. And remember, it doesn't matter if it's a man or a women, always be polite when being cruel, and say, "Excuse me good sir, you've had one too many big macs".

excusemegoodsir.franklin.ma

Why I Am Still Here Dancing.

After being home and feeling simultaneously productive and useless for over 48 hours, I've compiled a list of things that home is:

1. Home is the place where you're supposed to feel useless.

2. Home is the place that brings you back down to earth when your ego has outgrown you.

3. Home is the place where you don't have to pay for your laundry.

4. Home is the place where people are (almost) always happy to see you.

5. Home is the place that you never want to be and always want to go back to.

6. Home is the place where you can walk around in the dark without walking into anything.

7. Home is the place where it's acceptable to wear a fanny-pack (NOTE: this also applies to Bonnaroo).

8. Home is the place where it's not acceptable to sleep past 10:30 am.

9. Home is wherever your family, self-made and inherited, is.

10. Home is where you can sleep naked without making your roommate feel awkward.

11. Home is the place where it's completely acceptable to pour yourself a g&t and bask in your own fabulousness.

So my friends, take advantage of being home. Sleep naked. Do unnecessary amounts of laundry. Go buy a fannypack. Remember that the universe does not revolve around you. Buy your family dinner, or maybe matching hats. Most importantly though, pour a couple of drinks for your best and put your feet up. After all, it is summer.

XO M.

There's no place like home, now is there?

My boxes are stored. My bags are packed. The walls of my freshman dorm lay bare.

In less than 48 hours, I'll pack the car, hug my friends goodbye, and head for Franklin, Massachusetts, the place I've always called home. But the walls in my house on the hill in Franklin are now bare as well, and in 1 month, my parents will pack up their own car and migrate across the country to Arizona. So where then, does that leave me?

Pulled in a hundred different directions by my parents, my grandmother, my friends from home, my friends from school, my second mother Marushka, my aunt, and my sister, I decided that, as always, the best answer was no answer. So I'm going to do it all.

As much as I'd love to spend the summer relaxing at home with the friends whom I've grown up with, the road awaits me. And this is where I'm going to document my adventures. Being homeless doesn't mean that I have no home to go to, so much as it means that I'm going to make everywhere I go my home. I'll set myself up in Massachusetts, East Hampton, Tennessee, Arizona, and Washington D.C., and from there, venture out into the world.

Before I start my life as a nomad, I'd like to say a few words about the home I'm leaving now: George Washington University and Potomac fourth flo'. The only word that could possibly begin to describe all I've learned, loved, and lived in the past year is "tweeeeeeet!". I've met the most wonderful people from all over the world, people whom I can't imaging leaving on Monday. I want to thank you all a thousand times over for this year and say that I truly can't wait to visit you all this summer!

So here we go, off on a magical summer adventure to wherever the road leads. Armed with my trusty honda, my laptop, my camera, and my best friends, I can't possibly get lost.

XO M.

"We were all delighted, we all realized we were leaving confusion and nonsense behind, and performing our one and noble function of the time, move." -Jack Kerouac