Tuesday, July 12, 2011

to be or not to be: censored?

Well, hello!

Haven’t see y’all around these parts in quite awhile!

Or is it me who’s been MIA?

Oh. That’s right. Well, hello nonetheless! I realize I went missing on a pretty grim note (can you blame me?), but I’ve had some time to think, some time to process, and obviously some time to cry while sorting everything out. I wish that meant that I now have answers, but it doesn’t. It simply means I’m learning daily to accept my life for what it is (something I’ve been learning daily to do for nineteen months but, hey, who’s counting?).

After the whole reference-debacle (update: there’s nothing I can do about it because of some kind of a federal law where all my dirty laundry, once aired, must remain posted for a full two years…WOMP), I hit a bit of a low point. Just a teeny tiny low point. Low enough for me to mope around and say things like WHAT’S GOING TO BECOME OF ME?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1?!!!!11111 while hoping for an actual answer to an overly-dramatic question. This is the part where I normally turn to my parents (read: mother) for some direction, something I’m not always (read: usually) terribly fond of doing. And while I’m not saying everything she brought to my attention this time around wasn’t true or important, I didn’t like any of it.

I especially didn’t like hearing about how parts of my life are a disappointment.

Parts of my life like…this blog?

And by disappointment I also meant embarrassing.


I come from a Christian, conservative family. And I would consider myself Christian & moderately conservative, but I suppose I do write like I’m…common street trash? Okay, a bit extreme, but perhaps I am a little juvenile. Perhaps my stories are immature and, wow, maybe this blog IS standing in the way of me being hired by a district (to hear my mother tell it, she wouldn’t trust me with influencing America’s youth based on my written words…double ouch).

I get that we’re in an age of Extreme Technology, an age where everything I say or do can be blasted out onto the internets and ruin my life, should I make a wrong move. That’s daunting. And maybe I should have been a little more careful.

Maybe I should have censored myself more.

Maybe I should henceforth censor myself more.

That’s a shock to my system. I see the value in protecting my online persona – people who don’t know me from Adam could read my blog and have a totally wrong impression of me because while, sure, I'm 24 and like to do all the things that 24-year olds like to do, I’m also responsible. I don’t spend every waking hour wasted or finding a way to get wasted. My number one priority isn’t partying or sleeping until noon or finding new, creative ways to use expletives (I wish). And I admire writers/bloggers like Heather Armstrong and The Bloggess and The Frenemy. I admire that the have the balls and fuck-all to say what they want to say, how they want to say it, when they want to say it.

But maybe that’s just one of many luxuries I can’t afford right now.

I just don’t know.

And while I continue to mull that over, you’ll notice I have a new blog address so as to not make it quite as easy to simply Google my name and be directed to this slophole.

Oh, and because it’s been way too dreary around here as of late, please enjoy some fun recent pictures that I’m posting for zero real reason at all:

My best friends and I ready to embark on a party barge for the day (Lake Travis, Austin). EXCELLENT.


Some of my wonderful friends. :)


Mitch & I out on 6th Street, our last night in Austin.

PS: Seriously, though, if anyone hears about any teaching openings for 4-6th generalists or 4-8th English language arts/reading let me know! I’m expanding where I’m applying (I’m looking at you, Houston…sigh…).

PPS: Y’all are the greatest. I just can’t quit you, friends. :)

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

between the mean reds & the blues

Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul Varjak: The mean reds. You mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat, and maybe it's been raining too long. You're just sad, that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid, and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?

Welp. I may or may not have officially given up hope, y’all.

Specifically on education, I mean, but also on a lot of other things.

I found out today that one of my references has been giving me a bad report. For the last two years. Two. Years. So, on the plus side, me feeling like I’d been black-balled or like there was a kind of dark cloud hanging over me all this time? Turns out it’s true and I’m not just crazy.

I tried to delete the reference from all my applications, but it won't let me. So I tried to delete all my district applications and just start over, and I can’t. Some stupid message just keeps popping up saying I’m already in their system whenever I try to create a new account. Perfect.

I never really wanted to be a teacher anyway.


How long will I have to keep telling myself that until I feel like it’s true?

I know a bad reference doesn’t sound like the end of the world. Perhaps it sounds like I’m being overly dramatic, making a mountain out of a molehill and all that nonsense. But you don’t understand – when over four hundred people apply for one position in a matter of hours, that bad reference makes all the difference in the world. It’s all it takes to knock me completely out of the running.

It’s no wonder I’ve never even had a call, let alone an interview.

I’m not qualified for anything else. I don’t have any skills, any special talents. All I have is a bad reference and absolutely zero willpower to pull myself out of the all-consuming depression that’s already washing over me.

Cute, right?

Sunday, June 26, 2011



As it turns out, working two jobs is just as time-consuming (not to mention exhausting) as I thought it would be, meaning that Summer 2011 is officially The Summer of Working All The Fucking Time And Therefore Never Ever Having Any Fun Ever Under Any Circumstances Ever. Most of the time I’m too tired to even blog. WHEN DID I BECOME SUCH A FUDDY DUDDY?

I do not like this.


A couple weeks ago I actually had a day off (A DAY OFF! WHAT!) and spent the morning shopping with Mitch. He needed khakis that were actually khakis as opposed to cargo pants and not covered in mustard stains. Look at him! Growing up! And while at the mall, I made the mistake of venturing into Urban Outfitters where I not only spent seven dollars on novelty band-aids, but also…


I bought a romper.



In my defense, I initially grabbed a few to try on as a joke slash to remind Mitch how irresistibly sexy I look in ill-fitting onesies that show too much cellulite. But then, um, one wasn’t so bad? In fact it was kind of adorable. And, okay, fine, I bought it and I’ve worn it twice and I love it. Is that so wrong?!

Ahhhhhh I love the back! And please excuse my out-of-control lion's mane.

I immediately texted my friend Alex so she could begin judging me all the way from Houston. She has a special kind of hatred for clothing that makes adult women look like babies, a special kind of hatred I used to join her in until I became a heretic.

A heretic?

I’m operating on very little sleep these days and, as a result, not on top of my game. But whatever, y’all, I like to romp and I’m only 40% embarrassed to admit that. It’s so cute! I can belt it! Or I can NOT belt it! And I can wear necklaces with it! And SHOES! CUTE ONES! CUTE! Seriously, this is as exciting as my life gets since, besides wearing the romper on Friday for a family reunion, I can’t remember the last time I wore clothing other than Nike shorts, my camp counselor t-shirt, disgustingly loose black Bermuda work shorts, my Sonic shirt, and tennis shoes. Meaning: the romper is a big deal.

It’s cool if you all want to stop following my blog now.

In somewhat related news, here’s a quick rundown on what I’ve been up to lately if anyone even remotely cares and/or has missed me:

  • Working two jobs sucks, I’m tired all the time and my feet never stop hurting
  • Not having weekends off is probably one of my least favorite things ever, but that’s okay because I’ve been taking full advantage of my Tuesday nights off for kickball, ie. I threw up in a trashcan like a college girl a couple weeks ago
  • Pete tore into the garbage, then ate an entire loaf of bread and a bag of cat food before exploding diarrhea all over the dining room carpet while I was at work – you can imagine the pleasant sight and smell upon my arrival
  • At least I’m sort of a rockstar at (both?) my job(s?). End bragfest 2k11.
  • I miss blogging. And reading y’all’s blogs. And I feel totally disconnected from, um, everyone. Not cool.
  • I wear rompers now.
  • I ate some vegetables last week.
  • A lot has changed, but only in very boring ways.

To those of you still sticking around despite the dearth in posting, thanks. :) And on that note, I’m off to finish typing up lesson plans for camp this week because, hey, it’s 10:50 on a Sunday night and, no thanks, I don’t feel like resting.

It ain’t easy being a boss.

Or romping.

PS: Worst thing about rompers? I know everyone’s said it, but seriously, having to get completely undressed to pee. Pretty much one of the most awkward feelings ever, especially at work. Or basically anywhere.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011


It's finally here, y'all.


And oh goodness, I had such plans in my mind for this day. I was all, First I'll sleep in past 6 and then go for a run, and then I'll shower and go to the Flag Day celebration on Main Street (cute, right?!) and then maybe I'll go swimming and clean my room AND vacuum!


I know it's only 10am, but so far all I've done is put on my swimsuit, eat mini Reese's peanut butter cups, sit on my couch and cry while looking at wedding pictures on Facebook.


Uh-oh, does that mean I have wedding fever again?

My bad.

And now I feel so lazy that I'm going to drag myself off this couch, consider showering but then decide to skip it, and go to this adorable little Flag Day thing. By myself, but whatever. Why not, right?

Happy Tuesday, dudes!

PS: In related I'm-all-talk news, I'm a pussy and had all of ONE beer this weekend. Wtf? WHO AM I?

Friday, June 10, 2011

a collection of facts & feelings: june

Today I’m linking up with my sweet and wonderful friend Joelle over at Where We Love is Home for Happy Hour (because it’s 5 o’clock somewhere, thank God). And all I’m going to say on that note is:

a. you should really take a gander at her blog because it’s adorable, and so is Joelle
b. this weekend (when not working) I feel like I’ll be drinking one thousand cocktails and beers and bottles of wine – whatever, just bring on the booze; it’s been a hell of a week


Moving on.

It’s been an interesting week, my first as a summer camp counselor at the Grapevine Rec and so far I’d say the best (read: most awkward) part is working with a guy I graduated high school with because neither of us have acknowledged it. Neat-o!

I’ve been invited to zero weddings this summer. Am I really that unpopular? Well, all right.

A couple weeks ago Mitch’s mom threw him a grad party which basically meant that I ignored most people and played Presidents & Assholes on the couch the entire time (but not alone, it’s fine) while drinking twelve-ish beers. That’s a good way to feel bloated for two days, in case y’all were wondering.

Mitch's stupid eyes ruin everything.

And on that note, I know I said Apples to Apples is the greatest game of all time (and it is), but it should also be said that Presidents & Assholes is the greatest DRINKING game of all time (and it is). Seriously, have you ever played? Do it. It reminds me of summertime, which is wonderful, but it specifically reminds me of last summer, ie. The Summer We Played Presidents & Assholes Absolutely Everywhere To The Point That We Started Carrying Decks of Cards on Us at All Times I’m Not Kidding. We played with friends. We played at family gatherings. We played at The Chicken. We played at weddings. I can only hope that Summer 2011 is as President-y & Asshole-y.

In a nutshell.

Once again, moving on.

Midnight is Paris (starring Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, and a shit-ton of other people) is fantastic and totally worth seeing in theaters. I highly recommend it.

I’ve been seeing this app for awhile and, y’all, I think it’s getting pretty serious. I’d like to take this moment to profess publically: I love you, Instagram. Will you marry me and be my favorite app forever? (update: it said yes!)

Pete has gone an entire month without eating my clothes (knock on wood). I feel like this would be cause for celebration, except he’s actually just moved on to things like stairs and electrical wires.

Sidenote: besides chewing shit up, his new favorite hobby is chasing butterflies. CHASING BUTTERFLIES. I’ll try to take a video.

Not liking iced tea makes me feel absolutely positively un-southern, not to mention un-Texan. This is only amplified in the summer months. Ugh. What is wrong with me?

Not recommended: bursting into tears when your dental hygienist innocently & cheerfully asks how you're doing. She'll get really uncomfortable. And so will you. (update: seriously, I'm fine, it was just a bad day and, surprise!, I'm not great at controlling my emotions)

Also not recommended: eating two-day old chocolate chip cookies found on the bathroom counter when you wake up at 1am and can't go back to sleep. It won't cure your insomnia, but it will make you feel like a fatass.

And I just noticed how many browser tabs I have open right now. It drives Mitch crazy when I have up more than four (why? I don't know), but whatever because I'm sitting at thirteen right now.


Happy freakin' weekend, y'all! I hope everyone has some really exciting plans to blow off steam from the week. Me? I'll be working, but that doesn't mean I won't have a little time off to go see a band play in Dallas on Saturday night with my main squeeze. Other than that, it's back to the grind until Tuesday (my first day off in eleven days! whoooooop!).

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

chasing pavements

About a week ago, I got a second job.

It’s the thing I’ve been avoiding ever since I moved back home nineteen months ago (oh god, NINETEEN MONTHS AGO I MOVED BACK HOME someone please kill me slash sorry, Mom and Dad). I’ve tried to make it photographing and subbing but since both of those are seasonal, I knew that when summer hit things were going to be a bit, ahem, tight. After my Thursday morning orientation as a summer counselor, I realized that only working camp wasn’t going to be enough.

So I tucked my tail between my legs.

And drove to Sonic.

And asked for my old job back.

I tried to promise myself when I graduated that no matter what happened, I wouldn’t go back. It’s not that it’s a bad job – it’s just, it’s the job I had in high school. I’m supposed to be better than that now, right? I have a degree from an incredible university. Shouldn’t that be enough to keep me out of fast-food?

Turns out it’s not.

And I’m trying to be okay with that.

I woke up Friday morning with Adele’s Chasing Pavements randomly playing over and over and over in my head. The lyrics made (and still make) me wonder, should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements, even if leads nowhere? Trying to be a teacher for almost two years now, trying to just get by in the meantime by subbing and working summer jobs, trying to wait it out so I don’t have to give up on my dream…is it stupid? Am I being stupid?


Some days (okay, most days) I feel the pressure to “grow up” and get a “proper” job. I feel like a bum, a loser substitute who’s just not good enough to be a “real” teacher. I feel like I should take a job with a salary, with benefits, with 9 to 5 hours so I can be like my friends, so I can get my own place, so I can be, well, “normal.”

But I’m just not a desk job kind of girl.

The thought of working in an office makes me (metaphorically) break out into hives. And okay, sure, maybe I’m a little gun-shy about offices and cubicles and fluorescent lighting because my first “grown up job” was such a fucking nightmare, but I don’t think that’s just it. I think that in general, it’s just not for me. I need to be mentally engaged, physically active, up & walking around, talking to people, doing something new every day.

Does that make me flighty?

Or free-spirited?

Lazy? Or dynamic?

All I know is I can’t lead a life crunching numbers or filing faxes or taking memos. And I’d rather be somewhat unhappy with where I live and happy with my work than happy with where I live and miserable forty hours a week.

So because I gave up an interview for a “proper" job and instead found myself face-to-face with a summer position that’s turned out to be part-time, I had to swallow my pride and go back to the basics. My roots, you might say. And you know what? It’s not so bad. I felt weird walking back into the store after a five year hiatus and it’s sort of strange not knowing most of the girls who work there now, but it also kind of feels like home. It feels like a job I can do (and do well) because it is. Yea, that’s right: I kind of kick ass at Sonic-ing.


See? I’m trying to focus on the whole gotta-make-that-dolla aspect of the situation as opposed to obsessing over the fact that I’m 24 and working at the same job I did at 16. Yikes.

And while I’ve mentioned before how much I sucked (read: was ugly and judgmental) in those days, I do feel a little like sixteen-year-old me again, meaning I should probably call up my high school boyfriend so we can awkwardly make out in his bunk bed or the back of his ’98 Ford Explorer. I’m sure his wife won’t mind.

Good times.

But back to my original question: am I kidding myself with pursuing a career in education? To be honest, my gut tells me I probably am. My gut tells me it’s going to be years before education is back to a place where alternatively certified teachers (like me) have a better shot at being hired. But (and get ready for some grade A cheese, y’all) my heart just won’t let me let go. I feel like a teacher even though I’m not employed as one, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I have something of value to bring to kids.


Do I struggle in the meantime, sacrifice my wants, and ultimately continue to put my life on hold, waiting for the right school, the right principal, the right students to take a chance on me, whenever that may be?

Or am I just chasing pavements?

Monday, June 6, 2011

can't stop, won't stop: june (featuring the music of summer 2009)

In honor of summer (SUMMER!!), I decided to break from my normal format and instead do a flashback can’t stop/won’t stop featuring my favorite playlists of summers past. I’m also just feeling nostalgic (summer always has that affect on me) and wanted to indulge myself in a walk down memory lane.

First up, I present to you my Summer of 2009 Playlist:

Post-one million shots, pre-vomit.

Summer 2009 was a big one for me. It was my last summer as a college student, the summer I got Clark Kent, the summer I ran and didn’t hate it, the summer I drove down to Nacogdoches every other weekend, the summer I drove all the way to Arkansas just to see finally Relient K live, the summer of Daisy Dukes and dollar drinks and drunk make outs BECAUSE it was my last summer as a college student. It was the first summer Mitch and I spent together, the first time we drove to Houston for Free Press Summer Fest, the first time I really like-liked someone after thinking I’d never like-like anyone ever again.


It’s the summer I came back to life.

I’ve mentioned before that I had a particularly difficult time after a break up, way back in the spring of 2009. Truth be told, it’s probably the lowest I’ve ever been in my entire life, and God, I hope the lowest I’ll ever feel. I definitely don’t want to go back to that place. Anyone who suffers from depression can attest to how hopeless you feel, like you will literally never be able to crawl out of bed, like you’ll never be happy again. I had stopped going to work. I dropped two classes and failed one. I no longer answered my phone. I regularly slept fifteen hours at a time. I spent every second possible in the solace of my room, feeling lost and inconsolable.

When I did go out, I tried to prove to myself and everyone else that I was fine by laughing too loud, drinking too much and generally pretending I didn’t give a shit about anything, least of all my broken heart.

I was, in a word, a mess.

But with summer came sunshine and a new beginning.

July 4th, 2009. Go Rangers!

It brought my friend Mitch who emailed me daily with work-out regimes and words of encouragement. It brought Clark, the world’s sweetest puppy, who gave me something to look after and someone to come home to. Summer brought a new will to live and the realization that this sorrow wouldn’t be forever. Summer brought a time of tentative happiness as I slowly but surely crawled out of my cave and faced the real world again, this time stronger and more self-assured than before. It wasn’t instant, but it was lasting.

I was back, baby.

Thank you, summer 2009. Thank you to the friends and wonderful times that made it what it was. It’s a time I always treasure, and I’m so grateful I lived to see that.

Impromptu library workers party. We like books!

Join me next month for can’t stop, won’t stop: july where I’ll feature my summer 2010 playlist. Whoop! :)

*Richman is one of my favorite songs of all time. IT GOES SO HARD. Listen to it now, please & thanks.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

nothing says "celebration" like throwin' bows

It’s graduation season, y’all, which means I can’t seem to stop sitting in arenas and special events centers for hours at a time. And last night I found myself once again surrounded by hundreds of people and mortar boards out the yin-yang as Mitch’s little sister, Morgan, graduated from high school.


No, seriously, it’s awesome and congratulations and all that crap. Too bad the only thing anyone will ever remember about the ceremony is the highly-inappropriate fist-fight that broke out (a mere three rows behind me).

Say whaaaat?

Yes, a real fist-fight. Between two DADS.

pictured: a pretty accurate portrayl

Classy, right? One minute we’re all sitting quietly, wishing the seniors would hurry the hell up already so we can get out of here before 11, and the next everyone’s turned around, open-mouthed and staring as two families, one black and one white, struggle to keep their dads from engaging in an embarrassing situation. They were, sadly, too late. EVERYONE was looking. People were still receiving their diplomas and all the while, you’ve got two men in the stands, screaming at each other and throwing punches. The graduates on the floor STOOD UP AND CHEERED (wow). Finally security was called and both men were hauled the fuck out. How’s that for adorable? Sorry for missing your graduation, Cindy. I was, uh, busy…

A million bucks says it started with a racist comment (I would literally bet my life on it) because, c’mon, this was a Forney event and Forney has its fair share of rednecks. My only regret is that I was so fascinated by the scene that I didn’t even think to take a picture. DAMNIT.

Moral of the story: if you attend a graduation ceremony for a Small-ish Town, USA high school, you just might witness an interracial altercation. Boom.

Oh, and because the whole thing was supposed to be about Morgan, here are a couple pictures that actually have to do with graduation:

Morgan's somewhere on the front row, near the middle. Promise.

Morgan (on the left) and some friend of hers, right before walking across the stage.

Happy graduation, Morgan!

It was, um, eventful.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

for kelley

A week-ish ago, one of my very best friends, Kelley, turned 24.


I'm awful because I didn't make time (here) to recognize it, but I'm making up for it now even though I'm 99% certain she doesn't even read this blog. It's okay. It's the thought that counts.

Dancing (like sluts) to "Pour Some Sugar On Me" (obvi) at MSC Hospitality's semi-formal, 2008.

Kelley and I became friends way back during the summer after my freshman year of college. I was in the middle of transferring to Texas A&M and busy buddy-ing up to my new BFF Kristin when I met this gem of a lady. They were counselors in Fish Camp together (and so cool I could barely stand it) and, oh my, I was so intimidated. Just look at her! She's so cute! And funny (although I guess it might be hard to tell THAT from just a picture)! And she dances like a black girl!

Am I allowed to say things like that?

Y'all know what I mean.

BTHO t.u., 2009.

It actually look us a little time to become close, probably because we were both friends with Kristin and there's always going to be some rivalry in that situation. I'm so happy it didn't last long, though, because by our sophomore year I really considered her one of my best friends and have ever since. Kelley's one of the sweetest, most precious people you'll ever meet. She's a wiz in the kitchen, craftsy & handy with just about anything from making pillowcases out of cloth napkins to scrapbooking, and really just a genuinely kind person. I love her more than I can ever truly express.

In College Station for May graduations, 2010.

So today (and this post!) is for you, Kelley. I miss you, but I'm proud of you for working so hard in Austin. Your never-ending optimism (even when you're sad!) inspires me. I'm sorry this isn't appearing your birthday as it should have, but all the same, I love you and I hope today is better than the 18th, meaning I hope some kid doesn't poop his pants again. That sucked.

PS: I really wanted to embarrass you but then realized I don't, in fact, have a copy of that picture of you drunk crawling on your hands & knees through the streets of Italy. You know, the one where you can see totally down your dress? Man. That would have been neat..

Monday, May 30, 2011

land of the free because of the brave

Nothing says America like the Constitution, Ol' Glory, bald eagles and Clark Kent.

I just wanted to stop and wish everyone a happy Memorial Day. Three day weekends and BBQs aside, I hope we all take a second today to remember those brave men & women who have selflessly given their lives for our own. Thank you. :)

Friday, May 27, 2011

stop it, you're making me blush

The absolutely precious Amanda over at The Beginning of Everything awarded me this stylish blogger award because she's either never read this blog or she's just too sweet for her own good. Either way, thanks, lady!

Apparently I'm supposed to list seven facts about myself and, even though I feel like I've done this before (?), here ya go:

1. I'm 24 and I'm trying really hard to enjoy every second of my "youth."
2. My eyes are HAZEL, thank you. Not brown. I could tell you thought otherwise.
3. If I could change one thing about myself, it would be to make myself a more active, athletic person. I wish I loved running. Instead I love pizzas.
4. I'm a gypsy vagabond substitute teacher which sometimes I love and sometimes makes me feel like a loser.
5. Mitch and I torture ourselves by drooling over houses in Uptown we know we can't have. Damn you, Google.
6. I play kickball (badly) and, yes, I think that's very cool. My team is a blast. :) Go Bad Decision Bears!
7. I'm blessed beyond measure, something I don't recognize near enough. All the same, it's true. I'm a lucky girl.

Now, blink back those tears I know I've moved you to and check out the following ladies' blogs that I would like to pass this award onto:

Carrie Jo at Life of the Liles (because she's precious)
Julie at Tri-ing to be Athletic (because she's an inspiration)
Heather at Blonde...Undercover Blonde (because she's the best tweeter I know)
Vanessa at {the best is yet to be} (because she's beautifully honest)
Alex at Mutual Weirdness (because she's my pal, plain & simple)

Thanks again, Amanda! What a cute way to start my Friday. And seriously, check out the above blogs! They're all written by pretty wonderful women I feel privileged to call friends (even if it it's only through the blogosphere). :)

Happy Friday and HAPPY WEEKEND, y'all!

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

so you need to wait out a tornado warning...

Hello, friends! If you:
  • have stupidly gone out to a bar on Tuesday night even though your kickball game is canceled and there's the threat of bad weather
  • find yourself not only twenty miles from home, but also in the heart of a major city that's in the middle of a storm path
Or if you just like to laugh in the face of danger, ignore sirens and be an idiot, here are some things you need in order to expertly brave your way through a tornado warning.*

1. a 5th floor apartment with a sliding glass door and lots of windows
...because it's perfect for making you feel as unsafe as possible. Bonus: when it thunders, the doors and windows shake! Awesome!

It's just like a bomb shelter, only safer.

2. no TV or internet
...because when weathering a terrifying storm, it's ideal not to have access to any kind of news source. Bonus: if you try to listen to the radio via your iPhone or Android, you'll probably have to sit through six minutes of commercials before it'll tell you that a tornado's heading straight for your part of town. Goody!

Fuck it. We don't need this shit.

3. jugs of sangria
...because you're bored and there's nothing fancier than drinking booze you've found stored in someone's bathroom. Tip: best when consumed from the actual jug (there's no need to class it up).

Relax. It's just a tornado.

4. Apples to Apples
...because it's the greatest game ever invented. Seriously. That's not an exaggeration, and to all the people out there who think it's stupid, YOU'RE STUPID. And wrong. Tip: winning cards include Helen Keller, Anne Frank, Brad Suggs and, you would think, the JFK assassination. Warning: There are some people who think that running a goddamned marathon is more horrifying than the JFK assassination. These people are terrorists.

5. Homies
...because no one likes to brave this shit alone. Warning: some homies may not be able to handle the dramatic combination of severe weather, sangria & card games and may become belligerent, arguing that Jack the Ripper is more graceful than (my well-played choice of) Eleanor Roosevelt because he "had to be limber to murder all those people," all while sloshing fruity wine on you.

pictured: people with a plan but who will still forget their keys & cell phones in a crisis; not pictured: Mitchell and the beer he carried everywhere he went

There you have it, y'all. If nothing else, this'll entertain you for the several hours you're trapped away from your homes and give you a few stories to tell later as your friends sober up and can't remember all the Eleanor Roosevelt/lesbian comments they made.

PS: Seriously, though, everything's fine here. All have been accounted for and no serious damage was suffered. Thanks for the tweets and prayers. :)

*You should NOT do these things if you sense any extreme danger in your future. Just go sit in a stairwell or something.

Monday, May 23, 2011

can't stop, won't stop: may

Same ol', same ol', y'all. A little preview at some of the songs I can't and won't stop playing on repeat until Mitch hates them & threatens to leave me if I don't please for the love of God play something else:

  • Rhythm of Love by Plain White T's
  • Honey, Let Me Sing You a Song by Matt Hires
  • Boomerang by Mae
  • Last Friday Night by Katy Perry (oh hell yes)
  • And I'm really loving the soundtrack from The Switch (starring Jason Batemen and Jennifer Aniston). I recently Netflix-ed it, and please just stop what you're doing right now and rent it. Netflix it. Buy it. Whatever. It was so unexpectedly wonderful. I can't wait to buy it. But anyway, the soundtrack is also unexpectedly wonderful (especially songs like All the Beautiful Things by Eels and Lovers' Carvings by Bibio). Check it out.

Friday, May 20, 2011

middle schoolers: they'll straight up hit on you

Today I hung out here:

pictured: your typical social studies classroom

It goes without saying that 8th graders are a handful. I've subbed for this age plenty of times (reluctantly, I admit) and they always offer such unique challenges, ie. if I turn around for even a minute, lo and behold I'll turn back around to find some class clown standing in the corner, taking his shirt off. Whaaat?

Uhhhhh...it was an accident. You're not going to tell my teacher, are you?

What do YOU think, big shot?

Ugh. Kids.

So it's safe to say I understand that kids this age are a bit crazy, always pushing the boundaries to see how much they can get away with or what it will take to shock me. And, all right, occasionally I've encountered a strange comment, but man oh man, nothing like 6th period today.

Sixth period came in loud, and I mean LOUD. I've raised my voice to classes before, busting out the stern, disappointed teacher voice nearly daily in order to regain control, but today I had to yell. Literally. SIT. DOWN. CLOSE YOUR MOUTHS. My words was ringing in my own ears from the volume, but it worked. They sat. They closed their mouths. And for the ten minutes that lapsed as I took roll and rattled off some basic annoucements, they were quiet, but as soon as I turned to walk from the podium, it began.

The roar.

The clamor.

Thirty middle schoolers talking talking talking all at once. It was enough to drive me out of my mind, but that wasn't my problem with today. My problem was the boys. For whatever reason, I have become attractive to tween boys? Cue confusion and vomiting. For forty-five minutes, it was a string of silly lines that went from funny to downright creepy after a kid asked me, Hey, Miss Townsend, you ever tried a fourteen year old before?


I was litearlly stunned. Usually when kids says silly, flirty things to me, I laugh them off and remind that I'm not only too old for them, but way out of their league. This was different. After that moment, I was just... Uncomfortable. I found myself in a moment where I felt lost, unsure of what to do next, something that has rarely happened to me in the classroom, thank God.

In order to play it off and not give him the reaction that he wanted (ie. any), I ignored the comment and went about my business. It's funny how such a small moment can change your whole mood. I felt on edge, and for the rest of the period, I didn't feel like myself. I felt like I should have done something more: had him sit out in the hall, written him up, sent him down to the principal's office. Something. But I didn't know what, so I let it go.

As class was wrapping up, another student, a sweet boy about thirteen, came up to me and asked, Miss Townsend, do you know karate? 'Cause your body is KICKIN'! I laughed becasue it was funny. It just was. And it reminded me that these are just kids. They have absolutely no idea what they're saying. Even though a small line was crossed today, I know there will be other moments like this in the future as students and I map out our boundaries. As a sub, I don't have the time to establish myself as anything more than a temporary figurehead, and while most of the time that's enough, I realize now that there will be days I'm tested, days kids will come at me from out of nowhere and I'll have to handle it, have to think on my feet and figure out the best course of action.

But that's kind of the great thing about substitue teaching: I'm never really sure what will happen next. Every day is a brand new adventure and while sometimes it's hard, it's always worthwhile. I've learned so much in the past four months, so much more than I ever though I could. And I'm grateful for that.

I'd still like a Big Girl Teaching job, though.

Anyone handing those out?

I'll be glad to tell you your body is kickin' in exchange.

Sunday, May 15, 2011


He did it, y’all.

Five years and countless beers later, Mitch finally walked across that stage, shook hands with the dean, and graduated (diploma to be mailed at a later date…LAME). The ceremony was long and I guarantee there’s not a slower speaker to be found than the man who gave the commencement address this past Saturday. Kuykendall arrived early, three shotguns in and ready to do the damn thing (typical). Hogan, Mario and Trevor came still rocking the night before’s duds (typical). I was cranky because I was running late (atypical). The coliseum was a madhouse of family, friends and various other loved ones, and if there’s one thing I hate, it’s fighting my way through a crowd. By the time the last empty diploma tube had been handed out and the last hand shook, the alma mater sung and the caps tossed, everyone was ready to get the hell outta dodge.

But I couldn’t be more proud.

The new best picture of us because I can actually stand myself in it. I'm going to be cramming this down everyone's throats.

It’s true that I had a couple selfish, ridiculous reasons for being excited about Mitch graduating (ie. our age difference is now less creepy and I can stop saying my boyfriend is in college while feeling like a pedophile...holla!), but honestly I’m just happy for him and beyond impressed by everything he’s accomplished. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, you’ll never meet a harder worker than Mitch Baker. There’s never been a doubt in my mind that he’d finish school or anything like that, but regardless, Saturday was one of the most special days I’ve ever been a part of. And I’m just so thrilled. :)

Congratulations to Mitch and all the other spring graduates! You did it!

Forneytown. And Tommy.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

one through honorable mention

Welp, my sweet friend Heather over at Blonde Undercover Blonde tagged me in her 10 Favorite Things post, which was just so thoughtful of her. :) And so here ten of my favorite things:

1. The World Adult Kickball Association (WAKA) and my incredibly fun kickball team, the Bad Decision Bears.
This gets a huge shout-out since we finally had our first game last night and, okay, we lost, but it was a blast! I'm so excited for the season to really get underway and to spend even more time with my new friends & teammates. Also, flip cup and karaoke follow games (which are every Tuesday night)... Yes, please!

Hangover Wednesdays on the other hand? No, thank you. Ugh.

Christina, Kelsey and I show off our little teeny bear ears with pride.

2. New planners
I have a not-so-secret love for all things organizational, especially planners. I buy a new one every eight months or so simply because I get excited and CANNOT HELP MYSELF OH MY GOD LOOK HOW CLEAN AND NEAT THE PAGES ARE!!!!!! See what I mean? I bought myself a new one this past Sunday and relish in slowly writing in my plans. It makes me feel so orderly and in control.

Wow, that wasn't uncomfortable at all.

Please keep reading my blog.

3. Naps
If I could nap every single day (guilt-free), I absolutely would. Why? Because my bed is one of my favorite places in the world. It's soft, cozy and full of pillows just the way I like it. Laying in bed, drifting off to sleep in the afternoontime is relaxation at its finest.

4. Live music
The past two summers Mitch and I had made it a point to go to a lot of live shows and we were loving it. However, somehow in 2011 that has falled to the wayside and, well, we are not fans of that. We finally went to our first concert in nine months a few weeks ago, on a Wednesday night in Deep Ellum. We saw Freelance Whales play in such a sweet, intimate setting and we were in heaven, pure & simple.

I'm not going to shut up about Freelance Whales until everyone loves them as much as I do.

Sidenote: Driving out on a Wednesday night to see a band we both love made us more anxious than ever to get jobs and move out to Dallas for real. As we walked down Lamar to our parked cars, we daydreamed about what it would be like one day when we live just down the street and, for that matter, can drive home together without having to say goodbye. Ever. And then Mitch peed on a tree next to my car.

End sidenote.

5. Taco Bueno party burritos.
The flame has been reignited, y'all, and I am once again helpless to my addiction.

6. Rainy days
Mostly I love rainstorms and cloudy days because they give me an excuse to do nothing. Plus, they go great with Favorite Thing #3.

Double plus that when it rains in Grapevine, my backyard looks like this.

7. Mitchell Stanley
Besides being my boyfriend and, thus, an automatic favorite, Mitchell Stanley is pretty much the bee's knees. He's funny, adorable, and kind enough to jog four feet in front of me for over half of Warrior Dash because I refused to run anymore and was totally being a puss about everything, but when I pouted and yelled JUST LEAVE ME OKAY I'M HOLDING YOU BACK GOSH WHATEVER, he just kept slowly trotting along and told me, "Nope, no man left behind." Thanks, dude. :)

Nothing says love and respect like a backdrop of day-glo orange port-o-potties. Romantic.

8. My homies. 'Nough said.

9. This blog.
More specifically, having the freedom and platform to say what I want to say is one of my favorite things, without a doubt. And while at times it may feel overwhelming, I'm so lucky to have a place that's mine and people who give enough shits to read my words. Wow. How amazing is that?

10. Clark & Pete
You knew these were coming. I would be a terrible owner if they didn't make it onto every single Favorite Things list I ever make. And while Pete has moved on from my underwear to the crotches of my Nike running shorts, I try to love him. It goes without saying that Clark is as perfect as always. :)

Whatta bastard.

Honorable Mention: summer, mix CDs, nostalgia, disposable cameras, my mom's chicken & rice casserole, and 4 Lokos.
Seriously, one time Mitch and I ate an entire double batch of my mom's chicken & rice casserole and we were sick for two days. Gluttony, anyone?

Also, yes, 4 Lokos.

And I am of course referencing the original recipe.

Thanks so much, Heather, for thinking of me when you posted! It was fun to do the same. And in keeping with the pattern, I would like to tag the following to share with us ten of their favorite things:

Joelle of Where We Love Is Home (because she is my most honest friend)

Jennie of Well, Shut The Front Door! (because she is my funniest friend)

Hannah of heart to heart (because she is my sweetest friend)

Hugs, kisses and rainbows to everyone. And hey, it's almost Thursday which means it's almost Friday which means it's almost SATURDAY MORNING AT 9:30AM WHICH MEANS IT'S ALMOST TIME FOR MITCH TO GRADUATE.



No apologies for the all-caps. :)

Monday, May 9, 2011

shit-talking up all night

Lately this blog must give the impression that my life is completely devoid of anything even remotely interesting or fun. If it was otherwise, I'd be writing about all the cool things I do, right? RIGHT?! Y'all, I promise I do cool things. Maybe not all the time and okay, yea, I STILL LIVE WITH MY PARENTS which is the opposite of awesome but hey, just last week I saw a quality community theatre production of Bat Boy: The Musical and if that's not cool, I just don't know what is.

Things have just been busy and I've been all sneezy and do you know how bothersome it is to write when every six seconds you're recuperating from the Mother of All Sneezes?

Answer: extremely.

And while that's really just a ridiculous excuse, the truth of the matter is that I've been so consumed with subbing and looking for a Real Teaching Job and freaking out about looking for a Real Teaching Job that all the fun, cool things I do (and want to write about) fall by the wayside (much to my own personal disappointment). On top of it all, I had (have?) become a bit overwhelmed by this whole blogging universe. As much as I once enjoyed reading posts every day, it started to feel more like a chore and GOD FORBID IF I FELL BEHIND BY A DAY because I just felt like I was drowning in words and holy shit I'm such a failure if I don't catch up, like, yesterday.

Can you tell I suffer from anxiety? More specifically, anxiety over meaningless things which in turn turns them into personal failures that I'll never recover from?

I repeat: anxiety.

Let's not pull at that thread.

Mitch and I were driving back from a quick jaunt over to Nacogdoches a couple Friday afternoons ago, talking & bopping along to the radio when a song came on that we both stopped and really listened to. The words felt so applicable to both of us and the place we're in in our lives, a place of complete uncertainty with a side of Fear of the Unknown. Something about the lyrics gave me peace because they mean that other people in the world have navigated these same waters and you know what, I bet they made it out just fine. So we will too. And even though we're facing huge obstacles (the education job market, bills that have to get paid, skyrocketing gas prices, and very little money in our pockets to boot), it's okay because this is what our twenties are for: figuring this shit out one day at a time, occasionally with the help of a cheap bottle of wine.

But until we get back to our regularly scheduled programming, please enjoy this picture Mitch and I's matching watches we bought on completely different days at completely different Wal-Marts (cha-ching!) and completely by accident.

Yea, it's love.

she's all laid up in bed with a broken heart
while i'm drinking Jack while alone in my local bar
and we don't know how, how we got into this mad situation
only doing things out of frustration
trying to make it work but, man, these times are hard

she needs me now but i can't seem to find the time
i got a new job now on the unemployment line
and we don't know how, how we got into this mess
is it God's test?
someone helps us 'cause we're doing our best
we're trying to make it work but, man, these times are hard

but we're going to start by drinking on cheap bottles of wine
shit-talking up all night, saying things we've haven't for awhile
we're smiling, but we're close to tears
even after all these years we just now got the feeling that we're meeting for the first time

she's in line at the DOLE with her head held high
while i just lost my job but didn't lose my pride
but we both know how, how we're gonna make it work when it hurts
when you pick yourself up, you get kicked in the dirt
trying to make it work but, man, these times are hard

oh, these times are hard
yea, they're making us crazy
don't give up on me, baby

Friday, April 29, 2011

like a charm



This may or may not be a little weird, but I'm having a love affair with my skin care routine as of late and I wanted to give the products a little shout out. Ever since college I've dealt with mild adult-onset acne (WHY, GOD, WHY) -- not too horrible, but definitely enough to not only be annoying but slightly embarrassing. Yikes. Anyway, I had resigned myself to the fact that this was just how things were going to be since it seemed like no matter what cleansers or scrubs or masks I tried, the acne kept on keepin' on. Until. The clouds parted. And I was drawn to Ulta for an impromptu spend-fest using money I so didn't have, but, oh man, it turned out to be so worth it.

Presenting the keys to your adult-acne blues:

Burt's Bees Peach & Willowbark Deep Pore Scrub
I've been using this every night before I go to bed just to kind of get the wear-and-tear from the day off my face, and not only does it smell lovely & feel really cleansing, it WORKS. I'm telling you. Continuing in my theme of falling in love with inanimate objects, my new deep pore scrub and I have something very serious going on. And I like it.

Formula 10.0.6 Best Face Forward Daily Foaming Cleanser
(with passionfruit + green tea)
This is what I use every morning right when I wake up to begin getting myself ready for the day ahead. It's phenomenal. Super smooth and gentle, it feels wonderful on my skin and leaves my face feeling ridiculously refreshed, ie. it's an excellent way to start my morning. Mmmmmmm yes, please.

Formula 10.0.6 Seriously Shine Free Mattifying Oil-Free Moisturizer
(with aloe vera + bamboo*)
And finally, the pièce de résistance, this miracle-worker is without a doubt the greatest moisturizer I have ever used in my entire life. Seriously. There are almost no words to describe how incredible it is. See, not only do I have the pleasure of dealing with acne at the young, hip age of 24, but I also have naturally oily skin. Meaning that by early afternoon my face is all shiny and feels sticky (god, I'm attractive). I've tried all kinds of oil-free moisturizers before but this is the only one that's the real deal. I put it on in the mornings after washing my face with Best Face Forward and my skin is clean, silky smooth (I'm not even kidding, it feels wonderfulllllll), and shine-free all the way until I go to bed. IS THIS REAL LIFE?!

Y'all, I know how borderline creepy this was, but I so don't even care. This has legitimately changed the look & feel of my face and eliminated not only 98% of my acne, but also given me buckets of confidence. Let's face it, having to apply concealer constantly in your early-20s makes you feel almost as big of a loser as living with your parents does (but not quite).

The point is if you're looking for something to spice up your skin care treatment, I highly recommend Formula 10.0.6's line. Likewise Burt's Bees has always been a favorite of mine (I love their conditioner and, of course, chapstick), and their deep pore scrub is worth the eight bucks. Trust me.

Oh, and you're totally welcome.

*Bamboo in a moisturizer? What the hell? I had no idea bamboo and faces were BFFs. Huh. The more you know.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

can't stop, won't stop: april

It's time for some April jams, friends (better late than never, right?)! Here's a peak at my current playlist:

  • Glee's cover of Animal (originally belonging to Neon Trees)
  • Knockout by Lil' Wayne and Nikki Minaj
  • Love Lost by Temper Trap
  • Who Says by Selena Gomez & the Scene (I'm embarrassingly into this song)
  • And I know I've mentioned it before, but I'm still really loving Freelance Whale's debut album Weathervanes. You should check it out immediately (and perhaps fall in love with the likes of Broken Horse and Kilajoules, samesies as me).

And because I'm ridiculously into that Selena Gomez song and just feel like posting the lyrics, I will. No big deal.

You made me insecure, told me I wasn't good enough
But who are you too judge when you're a diamond in the rough?
I'm sure you've got some things you'd like to change about yourself
But when it comes to me, I wouldn't want to be anybody else

I'm no beauty queen
I'm just beautiful me
You've got every right to a beautiful life

Who says, who says you're not perfect?
Who says you're not worth it?
Who says you're the only one who's hurting?
Trust me, that's the price of beauty
Who says you're not pretty?
Who says you're not beautiful?
Who says?

PS: Promise I'll actually post something soon. Well, maybe. It's just hard living the glamorous life of a substitute teacher, y'all.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

for morgan

Today Morgan, Mitch's baby sister, turns 18 and is one step closer to graduating, moving away to college and becoming an independent adult.


Djohariah by Sufjan Stevens

I've mentioned Morgan (and our tumultuous relationship) a few times before, although I think it's been many months since I've said anything about her at all. That would probably be because, long story short, we had a falling out around Christmas (isn't it cute how the holidays bring out the very best in everyone?) and things have been tense ever since. It's unfortunate and, okay, I haven't exactly taken the high road every minute of every day. So sue me.

All the same, it's a big day and it felt silly (wrong, even) not to acknowledge such a milestone in Morgan's life.

So, today (and this post!) is for you, Morgan. You're 18 now and practically all-grown up, eagerly anticipating August and your big move to San Marcos. I'm so proud of how you've excelled in school, how hard you've worked at tennis, and how fiercely you love your family. We, you and I, may have gotten off to a rocky start two years ago and, yes, we may have had more downs than ups between us, but I'm happy to know you. I'm happy to be listed as your sister on Facebook. And I'm happy to love you.

Happy birthday. :)

PS: I know it's 4/20 and all, but no getting into the ganja today, okay? But it's my birthday! will get you no where with the police. Trust me.

Sunday, April 17, 2011


What's that?

Oh, THIS? It's just my new blog design. No big deal.

Lies. It's a very big deal. To me, at least. And I have to say, I'm a bit in love, if it's even possible to be in love with things like hummingbird backgrounds and Google directory fonts. Trevor is a magician, no? When we had our friend-date/hey-I-need-blog-design-help date on Friday night, the only specifics I brought to him were that I wanted my page to look clean and user-friendly. Vague. I know. But we spent a few hours trolling the internets together and trying out this and then testing out that until we (ahem, he) created the beautiful masterpiece you see before you.

And like I said, I'm quite smitten.

In case you're wondering about the hummingbirds, we chose them because while trying to think of a picture or pattern or what-have-you that best "represented" me, I confided to Trev that if I could be any animal, I would be a hummingbird. Why? Because they're flighty (in a good way, right?) and energetic and cheerful. Well, I've always thought of them as cheerful, anyway, and the point is that hummingbirds are darling and funny and they make me strangely happy.

And there you have it.


Or, me in bird form. Same diff.

I hope y'all like it as much as I do! You'll also notice I added several new pages to the top, so feel free to peruse those at your leisure. They're terribly and not at all important. Although one does feature a picture of Mitch wearing a rain poncho and that always makes me laugh.

Later I'm hoping to write up a recap of a little thing called Warrior Dash in which I participated today, but until then I'll leave you with this picture:

I know you're distracted by the fact that I appear to not be wearing pants, but seriously, check out this dude's helmet.

Hope everyone had a happy weekend! Let's BTHO this week. A-whoop!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011


“You know, that’s the first dance I’ve been to in a long time and there were no slow songs. When are you supposed to get close to your woman? And I mean in a loving way, not just in a I-wanna-put-my-dick-on-you way.”
-Mitch Baker

Even if I tried, I’m not sure I could have come up with a better quote to sum up Prom 2011.

And yes, you read correctly.



Mitch and I went to prom, and not just because we’re a. creepers or b. super-creepers, but because c. I was there professionally as the photographer. Which means that actually Mitch was there for reasons a. and b. Oops.

Mitch, my mom and I getting ready for THE SINGLE GREATEST NIGHT OF OUR LIVES.

We were both really excited about it. Probably too excited. But, y’all, prom as an adult (and I use the term adult loosely, for obvious reasons) isn’t that awesome. Although, to be honest, even when I was in high school I thought prom was a total drag, but that’s probably because, as you may recall, I was a loser with bad hair, and Prom 2005: Here’s to the Night was no exception.


Moving on.

On the ride up to McKinney, Mitch and I took turns guessing which songs the DJ would play. We figured this would be a piece of cake because we’re young, hip and fun. We listen to not only 106.1 and 93.3, but also 97.9 AND 104.5. We know what’s going on with the music of today. Or so we thought. Can I just tell y’all that we made a list of 34 songs (and the official rules of this challenge stated that for every song you picked that was played, the other person had to buy you a drink, obvi), and out of those 34 young, hip, fun songs, only six were played. SIX. I don’t even need to tell you that out of those six, only one was mine, although I guess I just did. So not only was the playlist shit, but now I owe Mitch five beers and I have, like, four dollars, so I guess we’re keepin’ it classy with Keystone.


I blame the 6/35 on the DJ, a man who can truly be described as the real OG (here meaning the Original Guido). His excessively-bronzed skin overly accentuated his electric-white teeth, both of which I would have been willingly to overlook all that if the man would have at least played Britney Spears’ Till the World Ends as opposed to, oh, I don’t know, a techno remix of Hey, Soul Sister by Train.


What are you doing, sir?

Look at your life. Look at your choices.

By the time the night was over and we were finally able to make the hour drive home, we were so burned out on BOOOooomOOOOooom BOOM BOOMBOOM BOOM CHIKITAH CHIKITAHCHIKITAH THUNDA THUNDA THUNDA that we just couldn’t handle anything on the radio.

So we turned on 98.7 for some golden oldies, ie. music that didn’t make me feel like I was inside a woofer. Or a strobe light.

And as we drove home, listening to the ever smooth King of Motown, we bitched about kids these days and their damn music, how it’s so loud and just a lot of noise, if you ask me, and so on and so on and so on.

Then it hit me.

We’re old.

Not old-old. Just older, I guess. What I mean is we’re not eighteen anymore, and while it’s the bitter in bittersweet to recognize the loss of (some of) my youth, I gotta tell ya, the sweet part is not only the knowledge and maturity that comes with age, but the confidence that, hell, I’m better than all those young punks.


*A kachillion thanks to Mitchell S. Baker for being a stellar prom date. As always, I was so proud to have you by my side.

You're pretty.
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