PMS

I have so many things to blog about....

My Birthday, The wonderful thing Paul did for a Lady at work, and Christmas so far.

I also want to blog about how so many people are miss using strong characterizing words, how much I secretly hate this time of year but I try an exhausting amount to like it, how much I wanna slap people who bring up marriage, or how much every single person over the last four-five days has bugged me as well as strongly hurt my feelings.

So I looked at a calendar.... yuuup. Here I am. Anyone else get worse symptoms during the winter? Or do I have full potential for this just to be me? I get angry cause "everyone is stupid" then I cry (literally... tears) because I don't believe that, so I resolve to be nicer to the next person I see........ then........ they open their mouths and there goes my goal.

March-October are NEVER this bad.

Source: Uploaded by user via Hillary on Pinterest

Birbiggle-bug

I HAVE INCREDIBLE NEWS!!!

(really.... I'm stupid excited)

this guy: is coming here: On this day: I'm at least this excited: The only way it could be better is if it was This guy:

And I was going with This Girl:

All Hallows Eve

I absolutely LOVE Halloween.

I think I got it from mia mother. You see, she always wanted to be an actress, but never was, so instead Halloween was her day to shine. She could play the part of whatever role she wanted all day. I'm the same way. Cept with dance. Either way, Halloween is my day to be whatever I want to be.

I took it easy this year. Like... really easy. But as I drove home last night, I realized... I didn't hate "toning it down." I'll explain more in a bit, for now though, simply enjoy a few pictures.

This is the love of my life dressing up as a T-Rex.

Crazy how the two men I'm in love with (my little cousin and boyfriend) love dinosaurs. These are Paul's pumpkins.

Jurassic Park

Man Hanging And his yearly "Jack"

Now here are mine! This was my first year doing a happy, normal Jack-Lantern Face

My yearly "sinnister" pumpkin

And the one I do EVERY year and think its hilarious every time....

"Pumpkin Pi"

Alright, back to what I was saying earlier, normally I dress up big time, and party like it's 1999. This year... I carved 5 pumpkins, wore a jazz jersey, ate soup, did Frightmares, went to my yearly Thriller dance production, and watched mildly scary movies throughout the whole month.

I didn't go to a million dance parties. I didn't go to a haunted house. I didn't watch a "pee your pants scary" movie. I didn't stay out till 2 am. I didn't spend 4 hours on a single pumpkin. I didn't have a crazy costume.

While I wish I would have gone dancing at least once, and I really should have been a ninja turtle again... I was strangely happy last night while I drove home from Paul's house. Maybe we're getting the hang of this "compromising" thing. Maybe I'm getting soft in my old age. Whatever it is... I had a calm, quite Halloween.

Boozer and Malone. (Our sign says "Will Dunk for Millions)

Book Face

Welp. I did it.

Facebook is deleted and gone (until I reactivate by signing in again)

I decided to consider deleting it last night when I was asked by multiple people

"So what'd you do today?"

Uhhhh..... Wasted time on facebook??? Like... hours.

I never considered myself that person before. I had facebook to keep in contact with people and that was it. Till the past probably 2 months. The past two months I've spent more time on facebook than outside. I've gotten bugged by statuses, gossiped about relationship statuses, and annoyed that my boyfriend hasn't changed his profile picture.

I'm done.

I'm not that person.

I'll reactivate it when I get my life under control again.

See ya soon. If not... I'm sure you know my number.

Bohemian Rhapsody

Just a little muppet lovin.

Grizzly Bear

My faithful readers:

For the past three weeks I've been dating a Grizzly Bear.

I've begged and begged him to grow a beard, and bi-golly he grew a mighty one. He complained multiple times about it being itchy, then I'd give him puppy dog eyes and say "please don't shave yet." Finally it became too much and he said he HAD TO SHAVE, so I struck a deal with him: One cute picture of us with the beard.

This is the best we could do with both being so tired today:

He's been a really good sport through the whole thing, so why wouldn't he be during the fun part? The shaving! So, for your entertainment I present to you: The Many Sides of Paul.

I call this look the "middle-aged-9to5-blue-collar-work-horse"

This next one is the "He-looks-creepy-but-is-actually-a-nice-guy" look.

Which, when paired with a blond girl, apparently looks like the "strange-couple-who-owns-a-day-care"

This is the "guy-that-makes-you-think-twice-about-going-clubbing." Or at least should.

...but his feelings are just so deep...

This is the guy you wanna punch in the face. He's the one who has full potential to be nice, but for some reason is just so overly proud in his soul patch that he's difficult to talk to.

This.... is the "I'm-done-being-told-what-to-do"

As much as I'll miss the beard, it was fun getting a "clean-shave-kiss"

But really...

......I'm gonna miss the Grizzly Bear.....

Beans

WARNING: venting takes place throughout the post and may not be suited for those I'm talking about. "Don't Spill the Beans"

We've all heard that phrase, many of us I'm sure have used it. I want to talk about it, if you want to listen, continue reading.

To get a flawless definition I decided to start this off by telling you that the Urban Dictionary defines "Spill the Beans" as:

1. To give something away; to tell secret information.

2. To tell somebody the truth. Or the act of telling someone private information.

I want to focus on the "telling someone private information" part.

"Private information" implies that there is a reason it is not worn on one's sleeve, and that there are reasons why it is not posted on facebook, blogged about, or discussed in the lounge. It suggests there is an "emotional weight" to it.

You don't always know how many "beans" someone has, but just know, if you have any, they probably have more than you would ever imagine. And as I've learned, the less you know about "bad, sad or hard" things in someones life, the more heart breaking stories they actually have.

Here is why I'm saying all this:

I have been around a few people in my life who will sit across from me and claim that I "do not understand." That there is no way someone like me could understand what their talking about. They will call me un-experienced, naive, and overly protected. Most of them, I'm assuming, base it on my smile, blonde hair, blue eyes, and CTR ring.

Moments like this most of the time roll off like nothing. I can walk away, almost feeling sorry for them. I find myself sarcastically thinking "that must be hard knowing everything about every one's life."

But every now and then I find myself attempting to keep the steam coming out of my ears hidden. I find myself fighting the urge to not simply "spill the beans" but grab the glass that they're in and throw the entire bottle at the person as hard as I can. A very anger filled way of saying:

"Let me show you how much I understand."