Random Things That Make Me Happy - Part One

I have decided to start a segment on my blog entitled "Random Things That Make Me Happy." Honestly, I'm a pretty simple lady, and it doesn't take much to make me smile. The first installment of RTTMMH focuses on...babies.

Yes, I love babies. Please do not think that means I want babies (which, I do, but not now, notttttt now). Instead, it brings me joy watching, observing, and playing with other peoples' kids.

I am that person on the bus/train/sidewalk that has a huge smile plastered on her face and is waving her arms like a blatant idiot in an attempt to make your kid grin. I am that person oogling over bite size overalls and pea coats in Baby Gap. I am that person watching A Baby Story on TLC oohing and ahhing over pint sized newborns (and at the same time scared shitless at the idea of birthing a human being).

How can you not love a teeny, tiny, innocent baby? I can't help but coo over their pudgy little legs, soft, rosy cheeks, and toothless grins. And the sound of a baby laugh is enough to melt even the iciest of hearts. Oh and baby feet! Baby feet are undeniably precious.

Plus, kids really do and say the darndest things like suggesting you name your new puppy "Tractor." Or coloring the cat with pink magic marker. Or chopping off a large chunk of your mother's hair in her sleep.

However, I have also learned that there are times when you should not wave and smile at children...and that is when they have a super creepy father. Story time! It was mid December, and I was on my way home from my internship. I was standing on the subway platform feeling very jolly. It was my last day of the internship, and I was looking forward to a fun evening at the bar with friends. It was rather empty, and I glanced around and spotted a family.

A little boy looked at me and waved. I smiled and waved back, just being friendly. Then, the father appeared. He approached me and asked if I was married, which is when I knew this was going downhill. Then, told me that he needed a momma for his kids.

Okkkkkkkkkkkkk.

After a nervous laugh, I hightailed it out of there and vowed never again to make eye contact on public transportation.

However, the moral of this story - babies are still cute...even if they belong to creepy people.

Where the Green Grass Grows

It is the most gorgeous day in Central PA today. The sky is china blue, and the clouds look like they've been painted on. Everything is vivid hues of green and yellow. I feel slightly like I stepped into a Technicolor dream world.

There is a slight breeze floating through my office window. The sun casts a warm shadow. I say a silent prayer of thanks for the sheer loveliness I'm experiencing at this very moment. I cannot think of anything more beautiful than a summer day.

I adore the view of the Philadelphia skyline but nothing compares to the patchwork fields and clear skies of Lancaster County. I feel like I'm living in a postcard.

Enjoy Tim McGraw's "Where the Green Grass Grows," which is the perfect song for today (and another instance of Pandora stalking my musical brain).

Meow

I am dedicating this post to my lovely furry friend, Gary the Cat.

We celebrated Gary's birthday a couple days ago. Yes, I threw a party for my cat. Yes, I know that sounds pathetic and one day I hope to throw birthday parties for my children and not a feline. For now, I gotta work with what I got...and for the record, his cake was awesome. Yes, he had a cake...and yes, he actually ate some of it and surprisingly didn't throw up anywhere. Win!

Anyway, here is the story of Gary.

Last summer my friend Brian and I were on our way home from the bar. We rounded a sharp curve in the road, and Brian jerked the steering wheel suddenly to miss something on the road...

Brian: I think that was a kitten.
Me: (screaming) TURN AROUND AND GO GET IT

We turn around to go examine our findings. There, smack dab in the middle of the yellow line, lay Gary. He was tiny and wet. He was skeletal and appeared to only have one eye. He was crying, and his appearance absolutely broke my heart. I had no idea if my family would let me keep the cat but all I knew was that I couldn't leave him (later, I would explain to my mother that Jesus told me to take Gary home).

Once home, a bunch of us attempted to nurse Gary back to health. His first night he slept in a box in our summer kitchen. The next day my mother swore up and down we couldn't keep him, but my dad (he is such a softie!) took one look at Gary and committed himself to taking care of this kitten.

As it turned out, Gary had 2 eyes. He was also malnourished and weighed all of one pound (his welcome packet at the vet weighed more than he did). He had a severe respiratory infection and mites in his ears. He was lucky to be alive. Furthermore, free kitties are never really free (Gary was the $500 cat by the time it was all said and done).

Yet, this year with Gary was a wonderful one. He makes us laugh and does cute things. He is kind of dumb but too effing loveable for words. And yes, he is named after the snail on Spongebob Squarepants (genius, I know).

So, happy birthday/adoption day Gary! The Freeman Family (even mom) is happy to have you.

Oh, and for the record, I'm not allowed to bring any more animals home.

Ode to Fall

Summer you were really cool (actually, really hot) but I am ready for you to peace out and make room for fall. I am trying hard to pretend it's fall by doing things like turning the AC in my room down to 62 degrees, wearing cardigans in 90 degree weather, and sipping hot beverages. Summer has its advantages, including, frozen margaritas with umbrellas, porch parties, and sundresses.

However, I crave flannel and campfires and overpriced pumpkin spice lattes from Starbucks. I want to step outside my door and not drip sweat (lovely mental picture, I know). I'd enjoy not constantly having mosquito bites all over my feet.

Plus, I'm excited for fall shopping. I'm lusting after cognac colored boots and midnight washed denim and a jewel toned pea coat (or trench coat or bomber jacket...). I dream of trading in my pink gloss for matte red lipstick and my pastel eyeshadows for a swipe of black liner.

I want to drink apple cider and tea. I want to wear sweatshirts and my favorite worn in jeans. I want to add another blanket (or 5) to my bed and snuggle up without perspiring.

Summer you have overstayed your welcome. Please make room for fall and don't try and pull any of that Indian summer shit.

Love,

Allison

I'm Putting On My Big Girl Panties and Dealing...Right After This Rant

Disappointment is the worst emotion and lately I've been feeling its effects on a too frequent basis.

I think I am rather forgiving but there are a few select souls who walk all over me. Now, I know that, yet I let it happen anyway. That forgiveness thing can be a blessing and a curse sometimes. However, I am done giving chances. They aren't free, you know (well, actually you probably think they are...but not anymore, buddy).

Furthermore, if you commit to someone, you should probably follow through with your actions. It's just polite, really. I'm not Emily Post here or anything but for serious.

Ok. End rant.

Now listen to this Katy Perry song I've had on repeat all weekend.

Where in the World is My Prince?

I attended a beautiful wedding this evening, and all the love vibes have me wondering...where in the world is my prince?

Now, I am not going to sit here and bitch and moan about the fact that I am unattached because:

a) That's effing annoying.

b) I'm not one of those girls who needs a man in her life to feel justified or whatever.

However, as I lay in bed tonight, I just can't help but wonder...

...will I be alone forever?

That seems overdramatic but I feel it's a valid question. I just want to know if I should start buying cats and stop shaving my legs now. If the universe could somehow let me know that I won't be wearing adult diapers and playing bingo in the home by myself...well, that'd be reassuring.

At the end of the day, aren't we all looking for that missing piece? The puzzle piece (aka man or woman) who fits perfectly into that void in our hearts. I feel like something is missing from my life, and isn't it human nature to want to feel whole?

Please don't cry for me Argentina. I am a strong, independent, sassy woman, but I'd sleep better at night knowing that my life won't consist of eating Ramen on a TV tray and watching reruns of Jeopardy alone every night.

While I wait for a sign from above...you can enjoy the following video that pretty much sums up this post and makes me laugh.

*The video sucks...but just listen to the lyrics.

I'm So Scared of Getting Older, I'm Only Good At Being Young...

The title of this post is more than just lyrics to a John Mayer song, it's the way I feel about my life right about now. Now, don't get me wrong, there are some really cool things about being an adult.

They include but are not limited to:

• Margaritas
• Staying out late
• Driving

However, sometimes being an "adult" is not all it's cracked up to be. Sometimes I feel like I've been thrown head first into adultdom and that I really don't know anything. Or what I thought I knew, I really don't know.

I like lists and post it notes and planners. I do not enjoy college/real world limbo. I want to know my place. I'm searching for somewhere to fit in now that I'm equipped with a college degree and looming student loan payments.

As of right now, I don't have a steady job...or man...or place of my own. I do, however, have a cat...though that really isn't helping my cause right now. I look around at friends who are married, have children, and have a house. They have it "together" as far as society's standards are concerned. I guess I could have had those things, but I don't want to settle (and dear God I am not ready to handle a small child right now...it's a big enough job taking care of myself).

The other thing is that it seems everyone has an idea about how my life should play out. Where I should work or who I should date or where I should move. Sometimes it makes me want to scream. I am a firm believer in creating your own destiny, your own path. Yes, I appreciate suggestions and advice. No, I would not like you to write me a five year plan.

For the first time in my life, I have no idea about my next step. It is both scary and exhilarating...but mostly scary. I have the whole world in front of me. The potential to do something great or royally fuck up.

In any case, I can't stop time. I must keep moving forward.

This is my life. My plans...to be continued.