Laughing so hard no sound comes out

My stomach hurts... I mean really hurts.

But it's not a miserable pain.

It's that "good" pain that plagues your abs after a tough, sweaty workout... though I didn't spend any time in the gym tonight.

Don't get me wrong; I had planned on going to the gym, but on my walk home, I saw that my friend and former coffee shop colleague, Amanda, was still at work near the coffee shop we both worked at together. So, since I hadn't really gotten an opportunity to talk to her in a few months, I stopped in to see how she was doing.

After sharing a few laughs with her for nearly a half an hour, she was finally free from work, and I informed her we were going to continue our conversation on my rooftop. Though I only anticipated sharing a drink and maybe two with her, two and a half hours later, my husband called me asking me where the heck I was, since I told him I'd be home after work.

It was then that I caught my breath long enough to inform him that I was, in fact, at home, just not in the apartment. It was nearly 10 p.m. and I had just spent nearly three hours laughing until my eyes teared up and my stomach screamed "no more jokes!" with Amanda.

We reminisced about former colleagues, current flames, and the ridiculousness that comes with our jobs. We bitched about our bosses and mutual strange friends, and took turns telling old inside jokes that I had long forgotten.

It was one of those conversations that I wouldn't even be able to choke out a sentence before we were both in the throes of laughter, which lasted for several seconds before she was able to respond, and vice versa. Both of us repeatedly experienced that moment where you're laughing so hard that no sound comes out for several seconds, then you take a breath and the laughter just explodes.

I had thought I was having a good day, but it wasn't until I was rolling with Amanda about "Can-I-Get-My-Tips" Tim; the butter croissant a.m. pastry; Dan, who could kill us five ways with a plastic straw; and the guy she had not been dating who thought they were dating, and going dancing with a mutual, probably gay friend, that I knew that today had turned into a great day.

I can't remember a time I laughed at Every. Single. Thing. that was said between myself and one friend for several hours, but I can't imagine I'll forget tonight anytime soon.

Sometimes it's the simple things that count... like a great conversation with a great girlfriend.

Love you girl!

Definitely not the nicest person

I was actually offended one day while a student at The University of Toledo because one of my colleagues at the student newspaper immediately refuted my claim of being the nicest person he’s met.

Not only did he quickly disagree with me, but he took it one step further and pointed to our mutual colleague, a girl named Jenny, and said she was the reason I wasn’t the nicest person he’s met.

Now granted, the meanest I had ever seen Jenny was when she once hurled a plastic cup of cigarette ash out of frustration, but I remember being pretty upset that in one person’s eyes, I was not the absolute nicest person.


Now I wouldn’t even think twice about someone saying that I’m not the nicest person. One, because I have met the nicest person in probably the entire world (he’s a guy on my basketball team and I’d bet on him every time) and two, because I can’t seem to stop word tease vomiting toward my guy friends.

Let me explain: I have started to find that the more I get to know someone and the more I like one of my guy friends, the more I tease him. And sometimes it gets to the point where I actually feel like I’m being mean, even though that’s absolutely not my intention. I never set out to actually hit below the belt, I just think teasing someone is my weird way of friend-flirting. Even though I know the guy can take it, I just can’t seem to stop pushing, and it has lately kinda started to bug me.

Why do I have to tease whom I hope will eventually be a good friend about his “lame” choice of car or shirt? Why can’t I just compliment him on something I do admire instead of pointing out (completely untrue) flaws of him?


I’m pretty sure that I push the envelope, so to speak, because I really like the idea that I can say virtually anything to my good friends, and it’s OK. I like that I can trade barbs with one of my African-American friends about racial stereotypes, for example, because it’s obviously not something I’d be able to do with just anyone. Teasing is my way of saying, “I really like you and I like how close of a friendship we’ve established.” I guess it just kinda irks me that guys respond to teasing and emotional punches in the arm over my simply going up to them and saying, “I really like you and I like how close of a friendship we’ve established.”


What makes it worse is that I have a friend who is exactly like me in this way, and while he knows I can take it – and I can – and it’s funny, I'm wondering if it can last. I mean, would it be so difficult to simply say something nice? Truthfully, and sadly, even if he did, I might think he was joking. I don’t want my friends to think of me in this way at all.


In fact, my high school self would absolutely be appalled that I’m behaving in this way because back then, I was teased… a lot. Granted, I was teased maliciously, but why would I then turn around and do the same thing years later, even after taking steps to ensure that the person I’m teasing doesn’t take it badly?

Maybe it's a guy thing and maybe because I'm a girl I just don't understand how it works. But because I'm a girl, maybe it's my job to change it.

I feel like this was a really stupid idea...

FOR SALE: Used, crappy, windowless van.

Did not need paint job until went up for sale.

Call 917-731-1086 to tell him he's an idiot for using permanent marker.

Hugs in Ohio, kisses in New York

I grew up in the Midwest, where if you were greeting or saying goodbye to a friend, you wouldn't think twice about reaching out and giving them a hug.

Here in New York, I've noticed that some of my friends are taken aback when I stretch my arms toward them for a friendly squeeze. It's not that they're uncomfortable giving hugs or anything; I can tell it's just unexpected.

Here in New York, it's customary to give a friend - girl or guy - a quick peck on the cheek more so when you say goodbye than when you say hello.

I was first taken aback by this custom back in Ohio when a friend of mine who grew up in New York gave me a kiss on the cheek as he said goodbye. At the time, I thought it was just something he did, but now that I've spent two and a half years in New York, I know it's not just him - it's a New Yorker thing.

Although it seems much more personal than a hug, I actually prefer it. Maybe it's because it's novel, but I think it's simply because a kiss is so much more intimate and it makes me feel closer to my friends. Regardless of the reason, this is for all my Midwestern friends:

MWAH from New York!

Only one with the ring

One of the toughest aspects about living in New York is being away from my family. Luckily, I was able to move here with my family - my husband, who is also my rock.

While I have a significant other here... hardly any of my friends do. Sure, there's that small minority of my friends who've been with their significant other for more than a year, but the overwhelming majority are either casually dating someone (the person of which changes every few weeks) or one hundred percent single.

I don't have a single New York friend who is married.

While it may not seem like that big of a deal, it is a lot harder than I thought it would be. Back in January, it actually hit me hard at a bar and still crops up every now and again.

My friends are up for anything any time.

I'm up for many things, as long as it's before midnight and generally not on a weekend.

My friends like going to bars to drink, dance, and meet people they might potentially want to date. (Oh, who am I kidding. They go to bars to meet people they might potentially like to either go home with or take home that night.)

I go to bars to drink, dance, and meet people who are nice and fun to talk to while we're at the bar.

My friends like to drink. A LOT. And they pride themselves on being the ones to close down the bar, regardless of the day of the week. (Bars close at 4 a.m. here, and closing down the bar was a regular occurrence especially for those on my flag football team. We played on Sundays.)

I wasn't much of a drinker when we moved here, but when in Rome with no worries about having to drive...

While I'm very much in love with my husband, hanging around my friends sometimes makes me miss my single days when I didn't have to worry about constantly texting my whereabouts, checking the time to make sure I'm not out too late, or leading anyone on. I mean it's fun to (briefly) relive the crazy college days - flip cup included.

But I am married and enjoy spending time with my husband on the weekends, which is (also) when my friends go out, so it's hard sometimes to have to say no to something fun and then know that I'm missing something with them. It's a juggling act that I'm trying very hard to master, but feel like I'm always coming up short.

Hopefully it'll be easier in 10 years when half of my New York friends have settled down and we can hang out earlier and I won't have to know I'm missing something by leaving before midnight. Although knowing most of them, 10 years may not be enough time, and I may have to wait a bit longer.

Come and see me!

One definite bonus to moving to an incredibly exciting city is hosting visitors who want to come strictly to see me (ok, fine, me AND the city).

In the past four months, I've hosted three visitors: my mom for a week (May 1-9, which was nice she was here for my birthday!), my cousin Gillian three days later from May 12-16, and her sister and my cousin Lexie just left yesterday after a five-day visit.

And I've had too much fun to write so just know we had a blast!